Chapter 7
It hasn't been a vacation by any means, but in the last few days, the last few days when she has grown more confident in her capacity to control her powers, when she has slowly stopped trembling every time Leo touches her for fear she will make a mistake, things have become better; manageable. She and Leo have decided to leave the boys with her sister a few days longer just to be sure – even though Leo maintains that he has already been sure for days – that there will be no more accidents, but the atmosphere in the manor has changed. Piper is no longer tense, and subsequently, Leo no longer feels the compulsion to hover.
The boys are coming home tomorrow; Piper has already thanked Paige and Henry, and eagerly informed them of her and Leo's plan to reclaim their children. It is Piper's idea to make a nice dinner; when Leo asks if she wants to go out, she knows right away that she does not. She so rarely has opportunity or time for "real" cooking anymore, and it seems a fitting way to enjoy their last night as a family of two. Stress and frustration on both their parts have been too high to really enjoy the company of the other before now.
Leo learns the extent of her buoyant mood when she shyly asks if he wants to help, and the two of them move hand in hand to the kitchen. As she directs Leo, and subtly adds spices to the pot on the burner that he hadn't quite managed to season the way she asked, Piper thinks of Wyatt and Chris. Wyatt, Chris, and the two tiny stools they dutifully drag around the kitchen when they want to help her. She thinks of the many times she has tripped over the cumbersome devices and nearly fallen.
"What?" Leo smiles.
Her grin grows wider, "The step-stools."
He groans and rolls his eyes, and she laughs openly.
"You remember the step-stools, don't you, Leo?"
Of course he remembers the stools. Of course, she already knows he remembers them. Another snort of laughter slips from her lips as she thinks of finding poor Leo, sitting in a mess of broken egg shells and yolky insides and shattered dishes on Mother's Day the year before. According to Leo, Wyatt had dragged the stool to the fridge in order to be nearer his father, and with a stealth Piper viewed as poetic, given the many many occasions her husband has startled her over the years, Leo hadn't even noticed until it was too late.
"This is nice." She says softly. "We should make time to do this more often. Under better circumstances, of course."
"Agreed."
He drops a light kiss on her neck, and then pulls open the oven door.
"Wait, not yet!"
She heaves an aggrieved sigh when Leo freezes, bent over the oven. Nothing has exploded, but she is irritated regardless. Freezing Leo on purpose is one thing, freezing him unintentionally is another issue entirely. She glares at his statuesque form; in these moments of disappointment in herself, it is always easier to be mad at Leo. Unfair, to be sure, but easier nevertheless. She had very clearly told him not to open the door until a half hour had passed. All he had to do was pay attention.
She reflexively raises her hands to unfreeze him, but before she can flick her wrists, or even think about doing so, there is an explosion that knocks her off her feet. Her irritation triples as she picks herself up off the floor; great. There would be no hiding her little setback from Leo now. Except Leo isn't in the kitchen anymore. When the smoke clears, she can't see Leo anywhere. Her heart thumps against her ribs, and her skin grows cold, because her body knows what she has done before her mind has a chance to process it. Her body recognizes a new void in itself and immediately goes into lockdown. Her body knows that when her mind catches up, it will cease to function.
It's not real. She says this to herself very firmly. It's not real, it's not real. But her senses are rioting against her in their quest to convince her of the truth. Her ears ring with the silence of the kitchen, the kitchen that now holds only one person where there used to be two. Her nose burns, because the smell of burnt flesh is overwhelming. It's a smell she has grown used to in her years as a witch, a smell she hardly notices anymore, but this is different. Because there haven't been any demons in this room. There has only been…
It's not real. It's not real. Wake up, Piper. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. Come on you silly girl, open your eyes.
And then she does.
Piper's eyes fluttered open, and she remained stock-still beneath her blankets. She held her breath and counted to ten, keeping track of the number of breaths she heard from Leo before daring to exhale. He was still asleep.
She dreamt vividly; she always had, but it had steadily become worse over the years. When Prue had first died, her imagination had run wild when she slept and tortured her with terrible, terrible images of her sister. Of the way she hadn't been strong enough to save her. And Leo, good, sweet Leo, had awoken every time she woke crying and on the verge of complete hysteria. His patience had been boundless as always, and she had resented it. Resented the way he accepted her so unconditionally, even when she was crazy. Resented the way she couldn't accept herself the same way. And so she had taught herself to wake up silently. She had taught her mind to pull her forcefully out of her sleep before the terror could swallow her whole.
In the way she had been forced to do off and on since Prue's death, she closed her eyes and swallowed, inhaling and exhaling evenly to calm her racing heartbeat. Don't look at Leo. That was another integral part of her ritual; with her touch, more often than not he was pulled from sleep as well. Sometimes it was worth the risk, sometimes she couldn't fight the compulsion, but tonight she would refrain. She wouldn't look at Leo, because she could never look at his face without touching it, just to be sure. And so she balled her fists and kept her gaze straight ahead. She inched her way off the mattress and pulled her sweat soaked shirt over her head with disdain before quietly slipping out the bedroom door.
Leo woke to an empty bedroom. Getting Piper to come to bed at all was proving to be a nightly struggle, but keeping her there was a battle he couldn't seem to win. He had all but dragged her up from the basement at one thirty in the morning, and the bedside clock now read five fifteen. He wondered how long ago she had left the room… if she had managed to sleep for even an hour before the nightmare pulled her back into consciousness.
He ran a hand over his exhausted face; the breakneck pace of the last week and a half was beginning to catch up with him, and he knew it couldn't be much longer before Piper burned out as well. Apparently, sending Wyatt and Chris home with Paige and Henry had been the right decision at exactly the right time, because soon afterwards, demons had begun coming out of the woodwork. It was as if the entire lower level community of the underworld had lost their minds. Demons, who really should know better by this point, had been attacking the manor, one by one. Although to Piper and himself it was a nuisance, it was suicide to the demons; and as his pissed off spouse sent them one by one to the demonic wasteland, he couldn't even begin to make sense of it all. The upside was, Piper was getting ample practice at controlling the intensity behind her explosions. She had managed to exert her normal, unwavering, strict control the last four days; which, considering her – as of late – flashpoint temper, was quite a feat. He listened carefully for any sound that would give away her presence on the second floor, and when he heard nothing, he reluctantly pulled off the comforter and went in search of his wife.
He found her in the living room curled up on one of the couches, staring mindlessly at the television screen in front of her. Half buried in a knitted throw, she looked twice as small as she already was.
It was a step up. At least she wasn't in the basement.
"Is there anything good on?" He asked casually as he sat on the cushion beside her.
Piper very nearly jumped out of her skin, and she let her breath out in the form of an angry hiss as she glared at him.
Leo lifted both hands in apologetic surrender. It was a reflexive action on his part more than anything else; she frequently scolded him for startling her, but the truth was, she was so often lost in her own world it was impossible for him not to.
She held her breath a moment before relaxing back into the seat and Leo knew she was waiting for an explosion; for an excuse to validate her ongoing delay in bringing the boys home, despite the fact that it had been days since her magic last flew out of her control. They were approaching day twelve, and in his mind, she had been ready almost immediately following the one week mark. Of course, there was no point in telling her that; her dreams were doing a better job of breaking her confidence than he was of building it. Four days ago a demon had attacked, and Piper had flicked her wrists and vanquished it with ease. When the second demon shimmered in behind her and pinned her arms, she had just as easily, just as naturally, almost absently, vanquished him without the hands, and nothing else in the room had so much as shaken. It had been instinctive, and she had seemed pleased with herself, even tentatively asked him his thoughts on retrieving the boys within the next few days, until that night. That night, he had woken up alone; not unusual, given all the hours she had dedicated to mastering the power advancement, but when he brought up Wyatt and Chris the next day, she had abruptly changed her mind and starkly refused to discuss why. In the days since, he had woken early every morning alone in their bed and found her fitfully asleep in different rooms throughout the house; the couch in the attic, the kitchen table, the bench in the conservatory. He looked her over critically; her hair was damp, and she wasn't wearing the same clothes she had gone to bed in only hours before. She had showered. Probably in the bathroom down the hall from their bedroom in order to avoid waking him.
"They're getting worse, aren't they?"
She paused, then bit her lip and silently nodded her head without meeting his eyes.
"Is that why you're not ready to bring the boys home?"
Again, she paused before nodding.
"Piper."
He used that voice when he said her name; the voice that, tonight, made her want to cry, because if even he was beginning to become frustrated with her, then she had to be pretty close to going off the deep end.
"They miss you. You miss them. I miss them, and I've been checking in on them almost every day."
"I know that."
"Then what's the problem? You're ready. You have to see that."
"I don't trust it." She shook her head, "It took a lot longer than this the first time."
"It was a completely new thing then. Besides, at the time, you barely made an effort to get a hold of them. You tried for about two days, then you got frustrated and stubbornly decided to just carry on with your life, freezing things and blowing them up at random."
He couldn't help but laugh, and she turned her head away from him; but not before he saw the hint of a smile on her face.
"Do you ever get tired of doing this?" She smiled wanly, "Being my constant cheerleader?"
"You would do the same for me. You have, many times before."
She untangled herself from the throw, and graciously offered him half of it.
"They seem so real." She began, after she was securely wrapped against his chest. It was easier to be forthright when she knew he couldn't see her face; she didn't know why. "And I know that goes without saying for all dreams, but, I can't help but think; what if that happens? What if I…"
"So start small." He stepped in. "Start by going back to work. Let yourself get comfortable, and take it from there."
She was quiet for so long, Leo started to think she had fallen back asleep.
"I can do that." Piper said finally.
"Chris! Buddy, you're killing us!"
"I'm trying!"
Paige shut the apartment door behind her and rolled her eyes as she dropped her keys in the nearby bowl, immediately ascertaining the activity currently causing such a commotion. Only Henry could take a stupid videogame so seriously, he was willing to yell at his four year old nephew over it.
Alright, already we'll all float on,
Alright, don't worry even if things end up a bit too heavy; we'll all float on…
"Do you guys have the volume turned up loud enough on that thing?" She shouted over the noise, walking into the living room.
Three boyish faces beamed back at her in response, and she wondered how Piper dealt with being outnumbered like this day in and day out. Her nephews had been with her twelve days, and already, Wyatt, Chris and Henry had formed their own boy club; she would die before admitting this to Henry, but she was a little bitter about losing her reigning title as coolest relative. All Henry had done was bring home that stupid Guitar Hero game… he couldn't even orb.
"Hi honey." Henry grinned without taking his eyes away from the scrolling notes on the television screen.
"Auntie Paige, I can't see!" Chris protested.
"Come on, hon." Henry complained, "As if we aren't close enough to failing already. Get out of his way."
"Why yes, I had a fantastic day at work while the three of you sat here playing your little game all day; thank you for asking." Paige exclaimed dramatically.
When she failed to get even a minimal response from any of the males in her living room, she gave up, and grudgingly shuffled a few steps to the side.
"Auntie Paige, watch me! Are you watching?"
Wyatt banged enthusiastically on the play drum set, only managing to hit about three out of every five notes, and clearly having way too much fun to be able to tell the difference. Chris stood beside him, struggling to grip the guitar that was more than half his height, but his face was one hundred percent determination as he stubbornly stayed the course.
"No wonder you guys are having such a hard time; Chris, that guitar is bigger than you are. Wyatt, trade with him."
Wyatt began to protest at the same time as Chris triumphantly began to voice his agreement.
"It's my turn!"
"Auntie Paige said trade!"
"We're taking turns, Paige." Henry warned, "Don't make them start that up again."
Paige held up both hands in surrender, "Fine."
Chris chanced a glance away from the screen and looked toward his aunt; just to be sure she wasn't actually upset.
"You can sing, Auntie Paige." He appeased. "Our band doesn't have a singer. Wyatt tried, but he can't read good enough and we failed."
"What about your Uncle Henry?" Paige teased, "He doesn't want to be the singer?"
"Funny, Paige."
"Mommy says you're a good singer." Wyatt contributed.
"I don't think so." Paige said firmly, "I don't want to become one of you clowns; you haven't given it a rest since Henry bought this game two days ago."
"Wyatt!" Chris and Henry shouted simultaneously. The five-year-old's section of the screen blinked an ominous red before the signature, guitar-string-snapping sound reverberated through the speakers and the faux crowd booed.
"I'm sorry!" He said defensively. "It's hard."
Henry sighed and placed his guitar to one side as he stood up from the couch and greeted his wife properly.
"Hey baby." He smiled irresistibly.
"Hey yourself." She replied, giving him a quick, G-rated peck on the lips. "Are you enjoying your day off?"
"Hell yeah." He grinned.
"Can we play another one?" Wyatt asked, twirling on the spinning bar stool Henry had found for them to sit on while they played the drums.
"Only if your Aunt plays." Henry smirked.
"Please Auntie Paige?" Chris begged, "Please? It's soo much fun!"
"I said no." She sing-songed.
"Please?" Wyatt chimed.
"I love your voice." Henry whispered in her ear.
Paige shoved him away from her and placed her hands on her hips, recognizing a losing battle when she saw one.
This sucked.
"Orange button! Come on Henry, it's not there to look at!" Paige roared competitively during his solo.
"I'm playing on expert, Paige."
"So am I, and you don't see me sucking at it."
"Singing is the easiest out of everything." Henry countered.
"Then why don't we trade?" She challenged.
Chris giggled as he bashed a drumstick against the yellow coloured symbol, having finally received his turn on the set. The banter between his Aunt and Uncle continued.
"Why do you even care? You said this game was stupid."
"That was before I realized it was the most awesome thing ever."
"You're missing the words, Auntie." Wyatt pointed out.
"Crap… if anything could ever be this way again. The only thing I'll ever ask of you, you've got to promise not to stop when I say when-
Paige, Chris and Wyatt all loudly vocalized their protest when Henry killed them moments before the end of the song.
"Ninety-nine percent completed." Paige scoffed in disbelief. "How does anyone fail at ninety-nine percent?"
"Uncle Henry, maybe you should pick beginner, like me and Wyatt." Chris suggested.
"I don't need to move down." Henry snapped.
After the next round, the words began to swim in front of Paige's eyes, and she gratefully hit pause when she heard the phone ring. Piper generally called just before dinner, and Paige didn't want her having a coronary because they were too busy screwing around to answer the phone. The manor might not survive a panic of those proportions.
"Hello?"
"Hey Paige."
Paige could hear the soft clicking of her sister's heels against the hardwood floor as she predictably paced back and forth in one of the hallways. Paige had always thought of herself as restless, but Piper couldn't sit still for two seconds when she was on the phone.
"Hey there explody." Paige greeted easily, "How's it going?"
"It's… going." Piper sighed. "I haven't destroyed anything by accident in awhile, so that's something, right?"
"I'd say it's a victory. Do you want me to get Wyatt and Chris?"
"No no." she dismissed, "I actually wanted to talk to you. I've talked to them twice already today; to be honest I don't think they would come if you called them. Apparently, I'm the only one doing any missing… they just wanted to go back to that Guitar Master game."
"It's Guitar Hero, Piper."
"It's killing their brain cells."
"You're just upset because your four and five year old sons are outgrowing you already." Paige teased.
"You're just upset because they've become more enamoured of Henry than they are with you." Piper returned with a laugh. "I've heard three "Uncle Henry's" to every "Auntie Paige" in the last few days."
"Quiet you." Paige grumbled, "It's a temporary lead."
"Are you planning on being this competitive with your own children?"
"Very funny. I am so not starting that with you right now; what do you want?"
"I packed more clothes for Wyatt and Chris; Leo was supposed to bring them by, but he forgot and he's already at the club; it's my first night back and he's insisting on providing moral support. Anyway, the bags are just on the inside of the front door… how he left them there, I don't know. Pop over whenever you have a second and grab them. Put their worn things in the laundry room; I'll wash them when I get home."
Wyatt and Chris didn't need more clothes. In true Piper fashion, she had packed enough clothing for them to last a month, but keeping her hands busy kept Piper sane, so Paige wouldn't argue. If Leo had his way, the boys wouldn't be with her much longer anyway.
"Have I told you lately that you're the best sister ever?"
"Anything to avoid laundry, huh?"
Paige could all but see Piper rolling her eyes, and she grinned into the receiver. "You know it."
"Are you sure you're okay taking Wyatt to school tomorrow? Because I can send Leo over…"
"Don't be silly, it's fine. I'm off tomorrow; I'll take him and then hang out with Chris. Henry's working, so it'll be the cool Aunt's time to shine; I've got awesome things planned for us."
"Just keep that part on the down low before you drop off Wyatt; the two of them are in this phase–
"Piper, I know."
"And make sure you –
This time when Piper was cut off, it wasn't Paige's doing. She stifled a laugh as a door opened, letting the sound check of P3's guest band filter in for a moment before it closed and she heard Leo's muffled, impatient voice.
"… give me a minute." She heard Piper hiss, despite the hand smothering the microphone.
"Piper?"
"Yeah, I'm still here. Listen –
"No, you listen." Paige interrupted, "Lady, you need to hang up the phone and go take care of your business. You worry about not blowing up your band, and I'll worry about my nephews' sibling rivalry. I can handle it; a girl learns fast with you and Phoebe for sisters."
"Hey!"
"Just go already!"
"Fine." She huffed.
"Thanks again, Paige." She heard Leo call over Piper's shoulder.
"You're welcome." She laughed.
There was more muffled conversation from the other end, and then the phone clicked mercifully in her ear, although whether the final act had been by Piper's hand or Leo's, Paige didn't know.
In no real hurry, Paige waited until after dinner to head to the manor. She had planned on simply taking thirty seconds to orb there and back, but mindful of the two young boys observing her every move, she opted to drive instead. The last thing she needed was Piper blaming her for the boys orbing outside the home as well as inside of it. In the end, she made the journey with Wyatt and Chris in tow while Henry stayed behind and cleaned the kitchen. Or, at least pretended to. The boys had made so many requests on her way out, it had seemed easier to just bring them along.
"Is mommy going to be home?" Chris asked, as they pulled into the driveway.
"No, she's at the club with your dad."
"Can we take a cookie before we go?" Wyatt jumped in.
"Of course."
The game of a hundred million questions had been going strong since Paige strapped them into the backseat, and she had realized she might as well save her breath, since, regardless of whether she delivered a long answer, or a short one, more questions followed just the same.
"Can we take two?"
"Hell yeah." She answered absently, nudging the car door shut with her hip.
"You're not supposed to say "hell," Auntie Paige."
"You're right. I'm sorry."
"Can we take three?"
"If you think you can eat three, take three." Paige shrugged. "We're going to be fast though, right guys? Go in, find your things, and get out."
"We know."
"I mean it."
"We know." They chorused dramatically.
Paige rolled her eyes and turned the key in the lock without further ado. Wyatt and Chris scampered ahead of her; Chris taking the stairs up to their bedroom, and Wyatt heading straight for the cookies he knew he would find in the kitchen. The bags were just inside the door; exactly where Piper had told her they would be, and she picked up the two tiny overnight bags before walking down the hall to toss the old clothes into the laundry room.
"Five minutes, guys!" She hollered.
Upstairs, Chris's face was scrunched up in concentration as he carefully selected the action figures and toy cars that had been most missed by Wyatt and himself in the days they had been gone. He scooted under the bottom bunk to reach the soccer ball that had rolled underneath it, and just as his fingers grazed the worn material, he froze.
The witch's back is turned; their backs are always turned. They are so easily distracted by the details of their meaningless lives it is no small wonder that they continue to survive. Their guards are always down, they are always easily surprised and slow to act.
His breathing grew louder as he tried not to scream, but it was harder than last time. The last time, he could see his family the real way at the same time he saw them in the way everyone said wasn't real. But he was all by himself right now; he didn't know where his brother or his aunt were, and the only thing he could see outside of his room was the bad thing.
As her body is half hidden inside the cupboard she is searching, the knife plunges into her back. There are other methods of attack, of course, but a knife seems particularly endearing given the trouble she and her family have caused. The boy can scream as much as he desires… there will be no help coming, and it will make finding him and killing him that much less work.
The petrified cry from the upper floor startled Paige, interrupting her raid on Piper's dryer sheets. She swore as she bumped her head on the top of the cupboard frame, and quickly threw herself to one side when she caught sight of the shadow – far too big to belong to one of her nephews – on the wall in her peripheral vision. She rolled her eyes when the demon clumsily fell forward and banged his head on the sink. She deftly kicked the knife out of his outstretched hand, and then caught him squarely in the face, knocking him unconscious. The entire ordeal was over in a matter of seconds, but Chris continued to scream upstairs.
Paige released an angry breath and gave the demon at her feet another kick for good measure. Stupid son of a bitch. These demonic inconveniences were going to drive them all mad sooner rather than later; especially when every single one, no matter how minor, inspired a full fledged freak out from Chris. Attempts to shield him from demon contact were failing; maybe it was time they made an effort to help Chris get a hold of his power instead.
She felt Wyatt orb from somewhere in the house, and soon afterwards, Chris finally stopped screaming. She stared at the unconscious demon with disdain, and with a wave of her arm, she sent him to the attic floor.
She ran up the stairs with her plan only half completed in her mind, and heard Wyatt's frantic voice coming from his bedroom as she raced past.
"Auntie Paige?"
"One second bud. I'll be right back."
"But-
"One sec."
When she reached the attic, the demon was just coming to. Without wasting any further time, she sent the crystals on the nearby shelf toward him, calling for them in a way she had long since outgrown, but occasionally did out of old habit when there were too many things going through her mind.
"Crystals, circle!"
The demon, lower level and hardly threatening by the look of him, howled in rage when he received the expected jolt after testing the limits of the cage.
Just as she expected, the screaming downstairs began anew, and Wyatt began calling her name with increasing panic.
She took a deep breath, and prepared herself for what she was going to do.
"Aunt Paige! Aunt Paige Aunt Paige Aunt Paige!"
"I'm right here." Paige responded calmly as she orbed into the bedroom.
Chris was curled into a ball on the floor, his eyes squeezed tight and his hands clapped over his ears, while Wyatt sat vigilantly by his side and tried to shake him back to their reality.
Wyatt looked almost as terrified as Chris, and Paige sat on the floor between the two of them and pulled Wyatt into her lap, kissing the top of his head reassuringly. "He's okay, Wyatt. We're going to help him."
Wyatt furrowed his eyebrows in uncertainty, but he relaxed slightly in his Aunt's grip; he could trust her to make things right almost as easily as he trusted his parents. Chris murmured something unintelligible into the carpet, and she pulled gently on his arm.
"Chris, I need you to look at me, honey."
Chris shook his head, but he took his hands away from his ears and gripped her hand as if their lives depended on it. In his mind, they probably did.
"We're going to do something scary, but I'm going to be with you the whole time; it's really important that you remember that part. Whatever happens, whatever you hear, you're going to be safe. So will Wyatt and myself."
He unscrewed his eyes, and turned pained, bright green irises to her own compassionate brown ones. "I don't want to." He whispered.
"I know you don't. I know you're scared, but you have to trust me. You trust your Auntie Paige, right? You know I love you… even if you're a turkey sometimes. I would never let anything bad happen to us."
"He's upstairs."
"I know."
"He's going to get out, Auntie Paige. He's going to get out and then he's going to-
"He's not going anywhere." Paige said forcefully. "Who do you think is stronger, your Aunt Paige, or some stupid demon?"
Chris paused; a few weeks ago, he would have answered without hesitation. He had seen the powers of his Mother and Aunts in action, and it had always been near impossible for him to conceive of something more powerful. But recently, seeing firsthand the confidence of the demons that so often plagued their lives, the violence and inhumanity of their thoughts… it wasn't nearly as simple to maintain the absolute faith he used to hold in his protectors as it had once been.
Paige shifted Wyatt's weight to one side and pulled Chris comfortingly into her other, displaying a kind of patience and boundless love only those closest to her wouldn't have been surprised to see.
"Trust me, Chris. You've always trusted your mom and your dad and me and Phoebe to keep you safe before; none of that has changed."
Chris seemed to be on the brink of accepting this, but then he cringed, probably in accordance with a new assault on the cage, care of the demon upstairs.
He turned hopeful eyes Paige's way, caught between believing her capable of fixing anything, and his awful fear of the things he saw. He was never quite sure which version of his mind's eye was the true reality anymore.
Paige placed one last loving kiss on his cheek before orbing them into the attic. Chris, however, was not quite ready to give in; Paige was shocked to feel her body, still in contact with both boys, beginning to pull in another direction. Immediately recognizing Chris's attempt at the orb within an orb, she set them back on course with record breaking speed. When they came together in the attic, she watched the hopeful look in Chris's eyes fall as he realized he had ended up in the attic in spite of his best efforts.
The kid learned fast; she had to give him that. The orbing game hadn't been going on too long, and while it was miss far more often than it was hit, he had almost pulled it off when he most wanted. It was that exact quality she was hoping would carry him through the next few hours. If this didn't work, it was going to make things worse; and then Piper and Leo would kill her.
She, Piper, and Phoebe had all doggedly suffered through their power advancements as adults, but Chris was young and moldable. As a child, he could probably capture in a matter of hours the same control that was taking Piper days.
Chris squeezed her arm so hard he broke the skin, and Paige bit her lip against the discomfort as tiny dots of blood began to well up in the pint sized wounds.
"Auntie Paige he's killing you again." He whispered fiercely.
"He's not, Chris." Paige contradicted gently. "Look at me. Look at my face."
Chris tried to follow her instructions, to concentrate, and slowly, the haze around her began to clear, and he could almost, almost-
I will tear them apart. I will set fire to their skin and laugh as they burn.
And then it was gone. Then Paige was screaming and he was crying and everything was murky again.
Paige pursed her lips in deep thought, trying to push past the disappointment and doubt that was fast replacing the determination she had possessed only minutes before. He had been close that time; she could feel it. He just hadn't quite been able hold on. It was frustrating; this was the kind of demon he would have never thought to flinch from before… him and Wyatt would have been trying to investigate up close, and she, Phoebe, Piper and Leo would have been pulling him back with their hearts in their throats as he laughed. Maybe she didn't want to restore him to quite that level of security, but there had to be a balance. There had to be a way to convince him that ultimately, nothing had changed.
Her eyes fell on the box containing the tiny, shell-like arsenals they used when interrogating demons, and a vindictive smile settled on her lips. Torturing demons was pretty high up there on her list of favourite past-times. Suddenly the answer was simple; they had been approaching this situation from the wrong direction. Chris and Wyatt had both concluded, based on what they had seen her and her sisters do, that demons feared them. That standing up against the Charmed Ones was suicide. That, as children, protected by the Charmed Ones, they were untouchable; demons wouldn't risk inspiring the wrath of their family by harming them. She could remind Chris of this. She could make the demon beg. She could unveil to Chris the world of fear his family instilled in the demonic community, and she could blow off a little steam in the process.
She jumped up from the floor and ran over to the shelf, ignoring Chris's mewl of protest.
Paige the doting aunt took a backseat to Paige the cold warrior.
She flipped the box open and removed a handful of pellets, standing with her feet shoulder's width apart before the cage.
The demon eyed her warily, his gaze darting uncertainly between her imposing stance, and the two children huddled on the floor behind her. Paige stood silently and waited for him to make a decision.
He made the wrong one.
The demon hurled himself violently against the cage and Paige remorselessly threw one of the shells against it. He screamed in agony, hit simultaneously with the combined force of the electric cage and the additional witch magic thrown against it.
Paige heard Chris's breathing grow heavier, but she didn't turn around. She threw six more shells against the structure in quick succession, smirking as she watched the blind rage in the demon's face fall to frantic, animalistic fear.
"Why are you here?" She asked coolly.
"I don't answer to you, witch." He spat.
Paige shrugged and threw three more pieces against the cage, and another for good measure even after the demon had already crumpled pathetically to the floor.
"Does that hurt?" She crooned darkly, "I'm sorry. I wonder, what do you think would happen if I threw more than a couple of these at one time?"
She tossed the remainder of her handful against the cage, confident that there was just under enough firepower in it to accidentally vanquish him.
He shrieked again, and gone was the confident, albeit moronic, evil being she had encountered downstairs. In his place lay a slobbering, quivering mess of filthy skin and clothes trapped like a household rodent in a cage.
Wyatt was so shocked by Paige's behaviour he forgot all about his fear and concern for his brother, and he looked on with morbid fascination. He had seen vanquishes before; he had even participated in a few, much to his parents' distress, but never before had he seen this. Aunt Paige was scary; she was almost as scary as Piper had been that time he used his magic at the playground in front of that stupid girl who stole his swing.
"Do you feel like talking yet?" Paige asked sweetly.
"I don't know anything." The demon yelled, "I was sent to watch the house. You weren't supposed to be home."
"Sent by whom?"
He hesitated a fraction of a second too long, and Paige threw a new round of arsenal against the cage.
"Who sent you?"
Twice more this process of questioning and torturing continued.
"He'll kill me if he finds out."
"I'll kill you right now." Paige promised.
Instead of resuming her attack, this time when he hesitated, Paige returned her attention to her nephews and gauged Chris's reaction. His face was ashen, but he was sporting the same confused expression she had seen across his face a few weeks ago, when seeing the healing glow emanating from her hands had contradicted his belief that Piper had died. Confusion was good; it was better than terror, anyway.
The demon seemed to be regrouping, and Paige swiftly switched back her focus; she was on shaky ground. Piper was very particular about minimizing the boys' exposure to demon fighting – something about it being hypocritical to tell them not to hit each other if they watched her kill things – and she was going to be pissed enough as it was. If Paige screwed this up, her sister would never forgive her.
Chris broke the silence with a murmur to Wyatt in what Paige supposed he believed to be a confidential whisper.
"He's scared."
The surprise in Chris's tone was palpable, and Paige hid a proud smile. It was working; perhaps Piper and Leo would let her live after all… she had been concerned for a moment there.
Tell her. Don't tell her. If you speak now, you can run and return when they've killed Lisgav. They will kill Lisgav; you've always known it; they always win. Somehow they always win. But what if—oh for the love of all that is evil, at least stall before that cursed bitch begins again.
The demon was afraid. He was more afraid of Paige than he was of the demon that had sent him here in the first place.
"He's scared." Chris repeated, louder this time.
How dare he mock me! Riding the coattails of the charmed Ones; I'll bet he thinks himself powerful.
Lisgav finds the boy cowering near the swiftly cooling bodies of his family, then lifts him and shimmers to the underground, where he will be killed for his convenient gift.
Chris saw the images flash before him like film, but the haze that had before so almost completely consumed both pictures, was significantly clearer. And with the thick haze went the excruciating pain that had come with it as his mind struggled between the views. They had been muted somehow… the voice in his head stopped screaming and he could clearly see his Aunt in front of him, and suddenly the threats and fantasies seemed ridiculous; this demon couldn't even figure out a way to break through a little cage.
Piper's Bounty Hunter vanquish of weeks before hadn't made much of an impression on Chris at the time; he had been too distracted by the presence of the second voice. But now, the event popped into his head and he reviewed the memory with a vision no longer clouded by fear. He saw it the way Wyatt had seen it that day; the way he himself would have seen it a week prior. The demon hadn't stood a chance. His mother had reduced him to nothing but a blackened mark on their floor without even trying. His dad had been forced to replace all the windows because his mom was so powerful, and so mad at the demon, she had completely destroyed the old ones.
Paige grinned triumphantly as she watched Chris peer intently at the demon in the cage. She knelt down in front of him and whispered softly, mindful of the enemy listening a few feet away.
"Can you hear him?"
Chris hesitated ever so slightly, and then nodded.
"Do you know what he was doing here? Why he came?"
Again, Chris nodded.
"Would it be okay if you told me about it later? Would that make you upset?"
He wasn't paying attention to her anymore; one look at his face told her that. Instead he was staring at the demon with a timid curiosity that let her see a shadow of the old Chris; the one who had snuck around with Wyatt trying to observe demon vanquishes with no concept of the danger they posed. Perhaps he would never again find that childish fearlessness, but the curiosity was back, and as exasperating as it sometimes was, it was a part of her nephew Paige would have greatly missed.
"Chris?"
"Hmm?"
"Do you think you could tell me what he's been thinking when we get back to my place?" She repeated.
"Okay."
"Can we rent a movie?" Wyatt asked.
"Can you two agree on one without killing each other?"
Wyatt and Chris looked at one another, and then they nodded their heads.
"Alright." She smiled.
Paige stood and once again ambled to her offensive position in front of the cage. Enough was enough. Her little demonstration had served its purpose.
"I guess I really don't need you anymore."
The demon's eyes widened in panic, "Wait; I can help you."
"No… no I don't think so."
She strolled to the shelves and nonchalantly selected an athame.
"Wyatt, Chris; go finish packing your things."
"We want to see." Wyatt whined.
"I mean it guys. Get a move on."
Paige waited until she could no longer hear their loud footsteps in the hall. Then she turned back to the cage and hurled the athame forward.
I know it was kind of slow, but it was also necessary. So bear with me a chapter or two longer :) .
