Title: Lonely Light of Morning

Chapter 11: Finally I Can See You

There's a fire starting in my heart
Reaching a fever pitch,
it's bringing me out the dark.
Finally I can see you crystal clear
Go head and sell me out
and I'll lay your shit bare

- Adele, "Rolling in the Deep"

Sam didn't know how long they sat in silence, Dean with his empty glass of whiskey and Sam nursing a second Jack and coke. When the club doors began swishing open and admitting Piper's little worker bees to get the club ready for the night, however, he decided they had things they needed to do.

"Come on," said Sam, downing the last of his drink and getting to his feet. He clapped Dean on the shoulder and set their glasses in the sink, where the barman, Rick, was beginning to set up. "The girls will be wondering how it went. You need to meet them. Let's go."

Dean grunted and got to his feet, too, surprisingly steady, all things considered. "First things first, Sammy," he said, returning Sam's clap on the shoulder. "Where is she?"

Sam paused and turned around in confusion. "Who? The sisters? There are three, Dean, not one."

"No, you 'tard. Where is she? My baby, Sam, how is my baby? You haven't douched her up while I've been gone, have you? 'Cause I swear, you are never getting in her again if you did – I'll tie a rope to you and make you run out behind her all the way to Bobby's if you even got a scratch on her. Don't think I won't." He held up a finger at Sam, expression dangerously serious, and Sam didn't know whether to laugh or make a run for it.

He compromised by giving a nervous, strained chuckle and taking a few more steps, getting a fair distance between himself and his brother in case he needed a head start. His legs were longer, but that wouldn't mean much if Dean were fighting for his baby's honor. He'd seen Dean take down monsters twice his height for scraping the paint-job.

"The car's out back, man," said Sam. He pulled the keys out of his pocket, trying to ignore the sudden sense of panic at the loss of their familiar weight. He had Dean back now, he didn't need little things like car keys or a necklace or that stash of bottle caps in the backseat to remember his brother's face and laugh and stupid inappropriate humor, anymore. He didn't have to cling to every article and pray – pray – he could hold onto every memory of his brother, and then feel the panic because he was already starting to forget.

He tossed the keys to Dean. "We can drive to the Manor."

"Damn straight, we can drive to the Manor," Dean muttered, catching the keys and clutching them like his own lifeline of memories, though his expression still bordered on mutinous. It was as if he already knew what Sam had done to the car and was preemptively brooding. Sam swallowed hard and reconsidered running for it. Dean amended, "I'll drive to the Manor."

Sam opened his mouth to argue – Dean had had how many glasses of whiskey? – but another look at his brother's expression stopped him in his tracks. He sighed. "Right," he said. "Fine. I'll just… point, yell, and hang on for dear life at the turns."

"Hell yeah, you will." Dean flashed him a wolfish grin and started for the door.

Sam shook his head, followed Dean outside, and led the way to the small employee parking lot. He forced himself not to run as he awaited the explosion.

"Ah-ha!" Dean crowed, spotting his baby sitting like a queen among the modern, tasteless boxes. He had already shoved the key to unlock the door and was twisting it up when he spotted the… doucheries.

His face turned white. He froze.

Sam reminded himself of his conviction not to run.

Dean whirled around. "SAMUEL! You – you – you –"

"Upgraded," Sam said quickly. "I upgraded. Look – it's really more convenient this way –"

" – killed her!" Dean finished. He gestured to the dash, where the ipod hook-up stuck out with a flashy new ipod and jerry-rigged cup-holder. He sputtered like a fish out of water. "And – and this! What the hell is this?"

He made another motion at the new seat covers and then put a hand over his face as if he were dying. The noise he made sort of sounded like it, too.

"They're more comfortable over long drives," Sam said weakly. "And they don't squeak as much as that old leather, so sneakier getaways."

"They're beach sunsets! Those are chick seat covers, Sam! You made my beautiful woman a – a – a whore!" He let his hands fall to the door panel and caressed it where the window met metal. "Oh, you poor baby. Don't worry. Daddy will fix you. It'll be alright. That mean, nasty Sam will never touch you again, I promise."

"Dean –"

Dean shot him a filthy glare, jerked his car door open, and ripped the bright, beach sunset seat cover off the driver seat. He wadded it up as if it had insulted their mother and tossed it over his shoulder. He leaned in and did the same to the passenger seat.

When his face started turning purple, Sam said, "Breathe, Dean. You know we can't resurrect you again."

Dean paused. After a moment, he took a breath, and his normal coloring began to return. After a few more moments in which Sam thought innocent, inconspicuous thoughts, his expression faded from fratricidal fury into stony acceptance.

After another several seconds, he said, "Alright, just get in."

And Sam released a gush of air. He got in. When Dean cranked the car and ABBA's "Fernando" blared out of the – also upgraded – speakers, Dean swatted and jabbed at the new system until something made an electric, dying sound and the music stopped.

Dean stared straight ahead, his shoulders high and stiff. He pulled out of the parking lot.

"Left at the light," Sam sighed.

"I've died again," said Dean, when Piper, Phoebe, and Paige all showed up to open the door. "But this time I went to Heaven."

"Oh, honey," said Phoebe, ushering them in, "you'll have to do better than that."

"I dunno," said Paige brightly. "I am half angel." She paused and then added, "Not that you're allowed to ask me if it hurt when I fell, because I'm warning you now, I've killed for less."

While Sam and Phoebe let out laughs, Dean looked like Christmas had come early and muttered something that sounded like, "Hello, Mama."

Sam stepped on his foot.

"So, I guess this means it went well?" asked Phoebe, fluttering around the boys in excitement. "Oh, I'm so happy for you, Sam!"

She gave him a hug, which he returned warmly, and then stepped back to look at Dean.

Dean opened his arms and said, "Don't I get one, too?"

Phoebe eyed him and said, "Yeah, as soon as you get those hormones under control, Mister. I've got my eye on you." She gave him a narrow look, which was ruined only slightly by the twinkling in her eyes.

While Dean put his arms down with a dramatically wounded expression, Piper stepped in and offered her hand. "You must be Dean Winchester," she said. "Sam's told us a lot about you. I'm Piper Halliwell, and these are my sisters, Phoebe Halliwell and Paige Matthews."

Dean shook her hand and said, "Aw, the angel's married? It's not nice to tease, honey."

"Not married," Paige returned with a smirk. "Different father. And it's funny how you think you have a chance."

"A chance? Darling, I have a waiting list. I just thought I'd give you the opportunity to move to the top of it."

Sam put his hand over his face and wished his brother could shut up and be responsible for just five minutes. He knew that look of feigned, intense interest Paige was treating Dean to.

"Oh, wow, darling," said Paige. "Did Sam mention the part where this 'angel' can move things with her mind? One word, and your fun parts disappear in a thousand shiny lights." She smiled sweetly, held out her hand, and said, "Wanna see?"

Dean hesitated, exercising reason over libido for just a moment, and Sam felt hope spring up in his heart. Maybe it wasn't too late for him, after all.

Dean let out a small cough and said, "Um, not right now, thanks."

While Paige smiled like the cat that caught the canary, Sam smirked, and Phoebe clucked her tongue.

Piper said, "Come on. Let's take this in the living room, and I'll bring us sandwiches. Are you hungry, Dean? I could make something more filling if you are."

"Oh, God, yes," said Dean as they followed her into the living room. "Thank you, Piper. I can see that you're the real angel here."

"No," said Piper airily. "I'm just married to one." She stopped on her way to the kitchen, blinking, and said, "Was. Was… married to one." She stood in the doorway a moment longer, apparently lost in thought, before shaking her head and continuing on her way.

"Huh," said Dean. "This family is like opposite-Winchester. We're surrounded by demons and monsters, and you guys are surrounded by angels and beautiful people."

Phoebe gave a laugh. "It's not just angels and beautiful people," she said. "Trust me; we have plenty of demons and monsters, too."

"That's not important," said Paige. "What is important is: what happened? What was the trial like? And – where's Chris?" she added as an afterthought.

They had settled on the couches in the living room, and now Sam perched at the edge of his seat, worry tightening his chest and making his hands clasp almost compulsively. "Underworld," he said. "He didn't look very good at all. I'm really worried about him."

Phoebe and Paige looked at him in confusion. "What happened?" Paige repeated.

Sam shifted uncomfortably. While he had told Dean a few of the gory details, he had promised Chris not to tell the Charmed Ones anything. 'Future consequences' and 'disastrous repercussions' and all.

He hesitated a moment longer while Dean raised his eyebrows at him, waiting, probably, for the same explanation he had gotten. Oh, right. Sam had forgotten to explain Chris's lying tendencies where the sisters were concerned. And the secrets and the manipulations. He'd have to take his brother aside later and warn him not to repeat the things he had been told. It was the least Dean could do, knowing what he did to Chris in the future and how much Chris had done to help them, despite everything.

At the moment, however, Dean seemed to notice Sam's discomfort and wisely kept his mouth shut.

"It went… well," said Sam. "I mean, we got Dean back, which was the important thing. But it was hard, too. Chris had to – you know, necessarily – convince the Tribunal that the future is a really bad place, so it wasn't like we spent the last few hours watching cute home videos about beach vacations. But, all things considered, we got my brother out of Hell with no casualties or Faustian deals, so… I mean, I really have a lot to thank Chris for. He really pulled through for us."

"Huh," said Paige. "Well, I wouldn't have thought it, but hey. I guess that whitelighter of ours can be useful for things other than demon hunting and nagging."

"That's really great, honey," said Phoebe again, not commenting on her sister's remark and this time giving his knee a squeeze. "But why do you feel like you just watched someone die?"

Sam froze. "What?"

Phoebe's smile was sympathetic, concerned, and way too knowing for his liking. Empathy, his mind suddenly whispered. Phoebe's new power is Empathy.

Shit. How does Chris deal with this all the time? And how does he get away with it all?

Sam swallowed hard and looked away, hoping her power wasn't quite so strong without eye contact. "Chris's future is bad, Phoebe," he eventually murmured. "Leo told you himself: you can't lie to the Tribunal. And Chris couldn't. So when he tells you the future sucks and this is the only chance you're going to get to fix it, you really should listen to him. He's not kidding. He's just trying to help us all."

Phoebe continued giving him that penetrating look; he could practically feel it stabbing into him, though he wouldn't look up to meet it.

"He's in the Underworld, you said?" she asked quietly, though whether she was simply empathing Sam's concern or finally felt some of her own, Sam couldn't say.

He nodded. "Yeah. I couldn't stop him. You know how he gets when he's behind schedule."

While Phoebe frowned in concern, Paige waved a hand breezily. "Aw, he'll be fine," she said. "He knows what he's doing. He practically lives down there, anyway. But you know, I wish there was more I could do to help, Sam. I'm your whitelighter, and all I've done is let you borrow those books on magic and convinced Piper to let you share that room in the back at P3. Do you know what your next move is, now? Is there anything I can do to, you know, guide and advise? I'm kinda feeling like Chris just stole my only charge, when he's already got three of his own to bully around!"

"What is this?" asked Dean with a grin. "Some kind of guardian angel competition to see who can take the most charges? Do you get a prize if you collect them all?"

"No," said Paige, with an impatient flounce of her arms. "It's just that I know my temp jobs are important and all, but they're temporary, so I can never really cut a place of my own in them. So I was hoping maybe being a whitelighter might be a little more permanent as well as meaningful. And I love you to death, Sam, but you just haven't really needed me much, you know?"

She gave him a forced smile that fell kinda flat. He stared at her dumbly. He'd been so wrapped up in Chris and Dean and the Tribunal, he hadn't even noticed that Paige was feeling...neglected. He felt like kicking himself.

"No, Paige," he said seriously, "you've been amazing. I mean it. You found me on the hunt when I barely knew what I was living for anymore, and you picked me up and just set me down right in the middle of your own family, and trusted me, and supported me, and Chris may have been the one beside me at the trial, but I couldn't have gotten this far without you, Paige. Thank you."

Paige's face broke into a smile and she sat back, obviously touched and trying not to show it. "Wow," she said. "You really know how to show a girl some appreciation, huh?" She gave a small laugh.

Sam flashed his own smile while Dean tried not to gag in the background. "You know," Sam said, as a new thought struck him. "There may be something else you could help us with, actually."

Paige leaned forward, eyes serious again. "Yeah, sure. Anything."

"Well, since the three of us can't really live in the back room all together, Dean and I should really find another place. Probably a hotel until we figure out our next move. But, since our normal means generally involve various types of credit card… misunderstandings… think you might be able to finagle a bit of the paying kind of work for us? Maybe at the temp agency or something you've seen around?"

Paige squinted at them as she considered it. "You boys don't have much in the ways of resumes, I'm guessing?"

"We can be experts at anything you want and have a phone number reference to back it all up," said Dean immediately, and Sam grinned as Bobby's telephone central station crossed his mind.

"I meant legitimately," sighed Paige. "I don't want to get fired if they find out I recommended con artists or something. And I think you're technically dead, Dean. Like, twice now."

Dean winced with a tight smile, nodded, and studied the floral pattern on the arm of their sofa.

"Actually, I could use some help at the club," said Piper, sweeping back into the room with two full, steaming plates of chicken dinners and glasses of iced tea on a serving tray. She set it down on the coffee table in front of the boys, chastised, "Don't get anything on the furniture," and continued, "Yeah, Rick and Harvey are both leaving in a couple of days. Rick's moving to Seattle with his new wife, and Harvey just finished his degree and got a job at some computer place. So I'm down a barman and a bouncer." She leaned back against Phoebe's chair, crossed her arms, and eyed the Winchesters. "You boys battle monsters every other day without even using magic. Think you can handle tossing a few drunks out every now and then? Except this time with good background music, food, and girls in risqué clothing?"

Dean looked at Paige like she had just granted all his earthly desires. "I think we can manage it," he drawled. He was practically drooling.

Sam sighed at his brother but gave Piper a grateful smile. "Thank you, Piper. That sounds great, really. We can even go over tonight and get Rick and Harvey to show us the ropes, so you don't have to take time out over it."

"Oh, don't worry about it," said Piper. "Your brother just got out of Hell. Take a night off, please. Rick and Harvey will still be around a few more days, and I don't mind showing you, myself, if I need to. I'm just happy to help."

The Winchesters nodded their appreciation again, and for a few seconds, silence fell.

Dean broke it the moment he took his first bite of the chicken. "Oh, my God." He set it back down and looked up at Piper with starry eyes. "Will you marry me?"

Leo sighed as his old mentor gave him yet another lecture on how he needed to wean himself away from his family, going on about how his responsibilities lay with the rest of the Elders and the greater good. Gideon meant well, he knew he did, and so did the other Elders. But sometimes he wished they would all just shut up and leave him alone. None of them had ever been in the position he was right now. No other whitelighter had ever been allowed to marry, to father a child, and then been promoted to Elder and asked to give it all up in the blink of an eye.

Not that he didn't believe in the greater good. He fought for it every day. He was called upon to make decisions about which witches should be assigned to which whitelighers- that was the greater part of an Elder's job, aside from keeping an eye on things downstairs. It didn't sound like much, but assigning a charge to a whitelighter required a great deal of careful study and observation. It required judging the personalities of both parties, being able to decide which kind of whitelighter would be a good spiritual guide for each particular witch. Those decisions were important, shaping lives and destinies and the future in subtle ways that not even the Elders themselves ever fully understood.

That was why he had doubted Chris's abilities so much in the beginning. He hadn't been assigned officially, the Elders had simply followed the rules, which were, surprisingly, very specific when it came to time travelling whitelighers. Apparently this wasn't the first time someone had travelled back in time to save the world, and there was a protocol to be followed in such cases. So the Elders allowed Chris wide berth and asked him few questions about the future. He was a whitelighter, after all, one of the purest souls on earth- so he couldn't not be trustworthy, could he? In spite of that, Leo had always thought there was something off with him. His lies, the whole Valhalla episode had made him deeply suspicious, and then discovering he wasn't a full whitelighter had clinched it.

In terms of temperament, he was a terrible fit for Piper, Phoebe and Paige. Anyone could see that. The first thing Leo had learned as a whitelighter to the Charmed Ones was that if you talked to them with patience and affection, they would move mountains; but if you tried to boss them around their backs went up immediately, and they got belligerent and stubborn made stupid mistakes. Leo didn't get much time to spare to keep watch over them with all his other duties, but even from the few glances he managed to steal, he could tell they were barely getting anything done with Chris as their whitelighter, each pursuing their own personal lives and living in separate houses. They had to be dragged kicking and screaming on demon hunts by Chris. He'd never seen them so reluctant to perform their magical duties before, and he couldn't help but blame Chris for not guiding them any better.

And now this latest nonsense with the Sam's trial, he just knew the boy was up to something-

"Leo, are you even listening to me?" Gideon's sharp voice cut into his musings.

"I, uh..." Leo stammered guiltily, but was spared from coming up with a good excuse when he heard a disembodied voice echoing from somewhere in his own head.

"The Tribunal summons you to the Circle of Truth."

Even though in his years as a whitelighter Leo had gotten used to hearing voices in his head, what with the jingles and summons from the his charges, he was unnerved. This voice was one he'd never heard before, echoing with a power more ancient than he could conceive. He looked at Gideon, seeing his own startled expression mirrored in his mentor's face.

"Did you hear-?"

"Yes," Gideon said. "It must be something serious. Come, we must go at once."

Leo glanced around, and saw that the other Elders were already starting to orb out. The whitelighters were staring around in confusion at the sudden mass exodus of Elders. With a feeling of deep misgiving, he orbed into the harsh black light of the trial room. The floating heads of the four Tribunal members were already present, staring down at them so grimly that it only deepened Leo's sense of foreboding.

There was a brief silence and then Odin stepped forward. "Blessed be," he said on behalf of all the Elders gathered there.

"Blessed be," returned Adair and Aramis. Thrask and Crill merely sneered.

"We have summoned you here today because we have received information we think it necessary for the Elders to know," Aramis said. "As you know, the time traveller Chris Perry asked for a trial today to resurrect the brother of Paige Matthews' new charge. We eventually found in his favour-"

A shocked exclamation escaped Leo's mouth at this, and he could hear the other Elders murmuring as well. He couldn't believe Chris had been successful. He had been completely sure the Tribunal would see through whatever it was he was trying to pull. Because resurrecting the dead? It was all but impossible. The Tribunal had pretty much made an exception to the one rule the entire magical world lived by. He doubted they would have agreed to resurrect Prue if the Charmed Ones had known about them at the time and asked for a trial.

"...learned that the balance of good and evil is greatly imperilled in the future," Aramis was saying. "We cannot tell you much, but we believe it is necessary for the Elders to know this. In the future, Wyatt Halliwell, the Twice Blessed, has become the new Source and is running the magical and the mortal world as an evil overlord."

Leo's mind went blank as he processed the words. Then the denial set in. "That's not possible!"He burst out. "Wyatt wouldn't...he would never..."

"I assure you he has," Crill said coldly.

"Chris was lying," Leo blurted out desperately.

"Do you really think a mere whitelighter would be capable of deceiving us?" Aramis asked sharply. "Or do you not know why that is called The Circle of Truth?" He nodded pointedly towards the centre of the room.

Leo followed his gaze. There was a dull roaring in his ears. He stared at the Circle, tried to imagine the scenes of destruction Chris had painted there. He couldn't. He couldn't imagine his beloved golden-haired baby growing into what the Tribunal was implying. But they couldn't be lying. Not the Tribunal. He felt his heart break. The Elders murmured in fear around him.

Chris's voice echoed in his head, mocking him in its earnestness. "I came back to save Wyatt." Lies. Half-truths.

Leo felt a sudden wave of fury over-take him. How dare Chris lie to them, and about something as important as this? This was his son. He had the right to know what was at stake, future consequences be damned.

The Elders had been talking agitatedly for the last two minutes. Leo had been too caught up in his emotions to really listen to what they were saying, but when Odin talked about the possibility of "cleaning" Wyatt for the good of the future, all other thoughts flew out of the window.

"You can't erase Wyatt!" he shouted before he could stop himself.

A sudden silence fell. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Gideon shooting him a warning look.

"And you cannot dictate terms to us," Crill said, glaring down at him. "Be mindful of where you are, Leo Wyatt, and to whom you speak."

"I apologize," Leo said, backtracking quickly. "I didn't mean any disrespect. I can't pretend that I'm capable of being impartial about this, but my own feelings aside, the fact is that the Charmed Ones would never allow you to erase Wyatt. You saw that yourself only a few months ago. Piper would never forget her son, and none of them would stop at anything to get him back. They would expose magic, forcing you to-"

"No one forces us into anything," Aramis interrupted, glaring down at him. "If the Charmed Ones create too many problems about this, we would simply have to erase them as well."

Leo stared at the holographic image above him, not sure that he'd heard right. "You can't," he said faintly. "That's..."

"They're the Charmed Ones," Odin added. He sounded nearly as shaken as Leo by Aramis' pronouncement. "The balance between good and evil-"

"-would be upset," Adiar acknowledged. "But not as much as it would be if we let Wyatt Halliwell ascend to power unchecked. We have seen that future, and we cannot allow it to come to pass."

"Please," Leo whispered. "Don't do this."

"We have decided not do anything at present," said Adair. "We will wait and see if Chris Perry succeeds in his mission. He has already changed things in ways we cannot know by raising Dean Winchester from the dead. If he manages to save Wyatt Halliwell from turning, all will be well and we will be spared the necessity of intervening. But if he doesn't, we will do whatever is necessary to preserve the future."

"So all this- the entire future- hangs on Chris?" Leo asked incredulously. "He's a boy, an incompetent, lying little boy who's not even a full whitelighter-"

"-which is why you, Leo Wyatt, will rejoin the Charmed Ones on a permanent basis," Crill's voice boomed out. "Inform them what is at stake and make them dedicate themselves to aiding Chris in his efforts. With the assistance of an Elder, the mission will have a far better chance of success. If Perry fails, however, we will have no choice but to erase Wyatt Halliwell from existence. Tell the Charmed Ones that if they fight us, we'll erase them, as well."

As one, the Tribunal and Elders levelled their gazes upon him, gravity, urgency, and just the faintest threads of fear in their eyes. Leo couldn't speak. He swallowed dryly, feeling as if Atlas had suddenly hurled the world at him without a word of warning. Holding it up wasn't even an option – at this point, he was just trying to not be crushed by the weight and surprise alike.

A little voice in the back of his mind whispered that this wasn't fair – if Chris had just been honest, he could have prepared – he would have had time to brace himself. This was all Chris's fault.

Without a word, he nodded in understanding and orbed out.

His wife and son's lives hung in Chris's backstabbing hands.

If that was the score, then Leo had some settling to do.

TBC...