Disclaimer: I wish it was but alas no...and though I am seeing the Foo's on December 10th I don't actually own their songs, or lyrics.
So many spelling mistakes in chapters I've looked over. Sorry about that.
Back to this chapter, better late than never, right? As always thank you so much to everyone who reviewed!
Chapter 7, Deceit
Everything has it's rightful place in time, and all around. There are some things that don't belong in certain places. Bread doesn't belong in the same grocery bag as the frozen products, halter necks and mini skirts do not belong in a nursing home and just as such, Elders and Whitelighters do not belong in the Underworld.
At least, they never used to.
There had once been a time when a single orb in the cavernous Underworld would alert all, including the Source of the time, in such speed that the being would be slaughtered right there and then.
Ah the good old days, how things have changed. Now there were far too many orbs around the place. For many of the low level, and a surprising amount of the upper level demons, orbs were now an omen of doom. A sign that he was on the way, that he'd be there in a matter of seconds with a vanquishing potion in his hand, his powers at the ready, because seldom did orbs appear in the Underworld, and when they did, it usually meant the Charmed One's Whitelighter was feeling a little angry.
Now though, as Yerrish stood with his mediocre followers, the orbs were not those of fear, in fact, they held no immediate threat at all, and they held no blue and white tint, instead they were a deep purple, so much so that they could almost be mistaken as that of a Darklighter's orbs, but this particular Demon knew full well who had just appeared in his dark lair, and he wasn't afraid, one little bit.
The four demons that had not scampered away in fear, stood by their leader, more out of fear of looking cowardly than loyalty and bravery but Yerrish didn't mind, he'd take whatever he could get in this hell hole, meant in its literal sense.
"I do believe," The older man said in his well-educated British accent, "We have a common enemy."
Yerrish narrowed his eyes, staring the Elder as the stench of his betrayal filled the air, present to only those with exceptionally potent nostrils, that being the Demons.
"I'm listening."
Phoebe Halliwell was perched on the side of the sofa, carefully ensuring she wasn't sitting on Chris' limbs as she pressed the cold compress onto his feverish skin. She sighed in contemplation, seeing the tell tales signs of his Halliwell heritage, things she was surprised not to have noticed earlier.
She heard her younger sisters heels as they clipped on the ground, and her own name being called out. Something she chose to ignore, feigning ignorance.
"Phoebe?" Paige asked again, seeing as her oldest sister had taken to caring for her son, and Phoebe had simply taken to looking after Chris (something Paige herself had been doing not too long ago) the half Whitelighter of the three sisters took it upon herself to question her.
Secrets had never been Phoebe's forte, in fact she had a reputation for being one of the worst liars of the family, with few exceptions when keeping a secret was the only thing standing between her, Grams, and a lifetime of punishment. In those days she had really shone as a brilliant liar, a title that served her juvenile delinquency well.
But now, things were different. She had changed a lot since then, and there was something about being the youngest of three that had allowed her to be more secretive. After all it was one of the few things she had to do. But now, things were different. Paige was the youngest, Piper the eldest, and Phoebe was the middle child. Not as much responsibility as the eldest, but still expected to set a good example for the youngest among them.
She had never liked lying. Once one was told, more had to follow, lest the lie be uncovered, but this, this was huge.
Chris, the sarcastic, neurotic, highly annoying Whitelighter of theirs, was her nephew. Her older sisters son. Wyatt's brother….
"I believe you're after a Whitelighter."
"Then you're wrong old man, I was after the child, his power is greatly felt in the Underworld. The Whitelighter got in the way."
"Why are you so persistant to keep attacking rashly then?" Gideon asked, eyebrows raised. Yerrish let the insult slide.
"I never abandon a kill. I leave none alive. No exceptions."
Gideon smiled. "Let's make things a little interesting, shall we?"
Yerrish looked at him. "Since when do Elders help demons kill their own?" He was curious, he could not dispute that.
Gideon growled impatiently. "Something is helping the boy, it cannot be stopped but if the he allows another to heal him, then he will live, simple as, and the Charmed Ones will vanquish you on the spot."
Yerrish continued to stare, waiting for the better part.
"Intercept the healing process. The boy does not have much longer, that much is obvious. The kill will be easy."
"And what of the Charmed Ones?"
"They will be so pre-occupied with keeping the Whitelighter alive and the baby safe that they'll have no time to vanquish you." Gideon said the words with such confidence that Yerrish grinned in satisfaction.
"Phoebe!" Paige said a little louder, finally managing to make Phoebe look at her with a strange look in her eyes Paige couldn't quite place. Something akin to, but not quite, grief.
"What's wrong?" She asked fearfully, and Phoebe looked away, pressing the cold compress on Chris' feverish forehead once more. Phoebe shook her head, and Paige looked back down at Chris, still feeling the strange sense that she cared for him. Then again, maybe it wasn't so strange. He was their Whitelighter after all…
But that didn't explain the change in Phoebe, in fact the only thing that did was Phoebe's vision, whatever that was.
"Phoebe."
The tone no longer held kindness, nor was it one asking calmly, instead it was a tone of warning, laced with impatience. The empathy sighed, standing and turning to face her sister. She took a deep breath, looking down at the man on the sofa.
"I saw something-"
"I gathered that."
Phoebe glared at the interruption before being urged to continue by the youngest sisters hand gestures. "It was bad, really."
"What was it?" Paige asked in a hushed tone.
"I-." Phoebe stopped herself. 'I can't say.' Raced around her mind, but the sentence itself would hold too many questions. She couldn't say it. "I saw Chris," Phoebe said, changing tracks. "And he was hurt, but Wyatt wasn't very sympathetic. We have to save him." The last sentence was said into the distance.
Paige knew that the sugar-coated words left much to be desired but she also knew that her sister had her reasons for being vague. The vision was clearly something she did not want to repeat. A silence reigned, something Paige had never liked. One thing popped into her mind to break it, the solution to almost all of their demonic problems.
"Ok then, uh Book of Shadows?"
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