AN: Enjoy!

VOX POPULI

Andrew's eyes snapped open the moment the first glimmers of light bespeckled his bedroom's floor. Ritualistically he rolled over onto his side. The other half of his bed was still perfectly made. He lamented silently with a heavy sigh. Under normal circumstances waking up alone for a teenaged boy or girl would be mundane, but for the past year and a half, he had not been living under normal conditions. The perpetual and persistent threat of being attacked, living under a single roof with over thirty other people, and being stranded at least half a continent from his home were a few examples of the new normal he had grown accustomed to. The most significant change in his quotidian living environment was sharing a bed with his boyfriend.

Everything changed again after the near tragedy in town months previous. He felt Danny starting to pull away, but he chose to ignore it. People dealt with stress differently. Danny had already proven he struggled with the continuous danger being allied with the Halliwells placed them under. Andrew felt after a period of time Danny would open up to him. Only the discussion never happened. Then the attack on the compound made the situation a hundred times worse.

The last attack, being put on lockdown, was the final straw for Danny. He cut himself off from all of their friends. He was rarely at any of the meals. He put in fewer appearances than even Zach. While the others trained or helped research obscure texts on myths and legends, Danny locked himself in his previously never used room. Andrew had tried talking to him, but the taller and more muscular boy shoved him aside. Jamal told him to give Danny some time to cool down.

The problem with giving him time was it meant Andrew was left alone. He had friends, but they were busy. Every one of his friends had something to contribute to the effort to bring down Lucifer save him. He was not a grand scholar like Sophia. Try as he might he could not bring himself to enjoy exercising at the crack of dawn. He went on the runs to be with Zach, to not feel so alone, but he always felt like he was holding his friend back, something they could not afford. He wanted his boyfriend back.

He dragged himself out of bed and opened the heavy drapes. People bustled around beneath his bedroom window. They were setting up some sort of new warding system. He heard Pyrrha and Anakin discussing it during the previous night's dinner between bouts of brooding. Even if he had paid attention, he doubted he would have understood much. He did come to the realization that the new wards would mean an end to the angelic guardians patrolling the passages at night; something he would not miss. He had the misfortune to run into one, and it was a memory he did not care to revisit ever. Needless to say, pure terror barely began to cover the horror he felt at the moment. Angels were clearly not meant to be viewed by mortal eyes.

A part of him wanted to stay hunkered down in the stuffy room for the rest of the day. He would not have to deal with the silent questioning looks the girls gave him. The concern in Zach's eyes might just kill him. He knew his best friend had better things to be than worried about than him. Remaining in bed also had the advantage of not running the risk of bumping into Danny and having the awkward conversation they both were avoiding.

Shaking his head, he ran his fingers through his slightly greasy hair. He could not hide away from the world. He refused to become a prisoner to his own thoughts; everything that happened with his family made him stronger than that. Today would be the day he confronted Danny. They would have a heart to heart; enough was enough.

Energized by the thought, he hurriedly collected an outfit for the day and rushed to the bathroom. Thankfully, the boy's bathroom was unoccupied. He needed to find the tall blond before he lost his nerve. For all his hubris, he was inherently a person who avoided conflict if at all possible. It was one of the reasons he had hidden his true self from the world for so long.

Kenny stood at the door when he exited, feeling refreshed and more awake from the shower. He smiled, unsure it reached his eyes. "Hey!"

Kenny returned the smile but concern perverted it into a grimace. "Missed you this morning. Zach used it as an excuse to run me ragged. I don't think I'll be able to walk tomorrow."

Andrew smirked and stepped aside. "Sorry I missed that."

"All done?" asked Kenny.

Andrew gestured for the younger boy to enter. "It's all yours."

He deposited his dirty clothes in his room, chucking them onto his unmade bed. Snapping the door shut behind him, he took a deep steadying breath and descended the stairs into the hustle and bustle of another day among the Halliwell clan. He discovered David slurping the remnants of a bowl of cereal at the breakfast nook and joined him. The young boy wiped aside a drop of milk just as his mother entered giving him and Andrew a look.

"Your father is looking for you, David," said Layla in a tone used by all parents when they know their child had just done something they would not approve. She trained her brown eyes on Andrew who shrugged, the universal sign of ignorance. "Morning," she said by way of greetings.

Andrew forced a genuine smile. "Morning, Ms. Yousefi."

"It's Layla, sweetheart. Most of the teens are down by the old oak tree."

"Thanks, ma'a—err—Layla. Is Danny with them?"

Layla ushered David out the porch door with a stern look. "Um—I think so."

"Thanks!" Andrew grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl on the kitchen island and departed.

He did not head directly to the oak tree but made a detour to the living room. Wyatt was sitting on the couch and in deep conversation with Piper. The Halliwell matriarch still did not look fully recovered from her encounter with the Ennead. The oldest of the Charmed children also looked years older than before the attack. Andrew cleared his throat, and the adults halted their conversation.

"Andrew!" greeted Wyatt warmly. "Zach and the rest are out back."

"I heard. Um—I was actually—uh—hoping I could talk to you for a sec."

Wyatt glanced back at his mother.

Piper struggled to her feet with a soft groan. "I need to see to preparing lunches if you guys are heading out into the woods later."

Wyatt's eyes narrowed, but he bowed his head. "Thanks, Mom. What's up, Andrew?"

Andrew twiddled his thumbs, struggling to meet Wyatt's gaze. His mouth sudden felt like it was fill of cotton. The frog in his throat further inhibited his ability to speak. His eyes felt like there were thousands of tiny needles in them, and he blinked. Horror filled him as he felt the dampness of tears trail down his cheeks. He involuntarily gasped for air and gulped, feeling completely out of control.

His body continued to shake as Wyatt wrapped him in a warm fatherly embrace, the type of hug he could not remember ever receiving before. He buried his face against the older man's muscular chest and sobbed. They stayed in the same position for minutes on end until his tears dried. He sniffed and pulled away gently. He felt Wyatt hesitate before letting him step back. The young teen sniffed and smeared the remnants of his breakdown with his forearm. Wyatt offered him a facecloth. He hiccoughed and accepted the piece of dark gray fabric graciously.

"Sorry," he murmured, cleaning his face to avoid meeting the adult's searching eyes.

Wyatt remained close but did not approach him, giving him the space he needed. "What are you sorry for?"

Andrew bunched the cloth firmly in his right fist and looked up with bloodshot eyes. "Your shirt for one."

Wyatt glanced down at the damp patch and half smiled. "This old thing?"

Andrew laughed halfheartedly. "I—th—that wasn't the—uh—plan."

Wyatt tilted his head to one side as a show of concern. "It wasn't?"

Sniffling again, Andrew stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I—I—um—err…"

"Take your time, kiddo," said Wyatt compassionately. He took a seat giving Andrew an excuse to do the same. When Andrew did not continue, Wyatt folded his hands in his lap. "Do you mind if I take a jab at what's brought this on?"

Andrew shook his head.

Taking a deep breath, Wyatt relaxed back into the couch. "I won't lie and pretend I haven't noticed you and Danny seem to be on the outs. He's been closed off from all of us, but he's been exceptionally careful to dodge you in specifically."

Andrew swallowed and croaked, "Yeah."

Head bobbing, Wyatt continued. "The past year has been—well, it's not been easy on anyone. William's death hit Danny hard."

"I—I wanted..." started Andrew but his voice failed him.

Wyatt smiled softly. "I'm not blaming you. I'm not blaming anyone. This is just what I've observed, ok? Danny's always expressed a reservation about magic. His beliefs have only been confirmed by the death of his best friend and father, not to mention your own close call a few months ago. Fear is a very insidious emotion. It can twist everything around, turn even the best in a person against them. Danny is someone who loves deeply, and consequently, he feels loss just as profoundly. My guess, and it is only a guess, he's withdrawn from everyone in an attempt to protect himself."

Andrew chewed on his lip. "How…"

"You can remind him—show him the pain is worth it. There is more to his life than the darkness he's focusing on."

Andrew blinked away more tears and stared out the window. "He doesn't give me the chance."

Wyatt shrugged. "Actually—there's something I can do to help in that regard. This property is very large, but being cooped up here with parents and adults must be wearing on you and your friends. Matthew asked my brother if he and a few of the others could spend the day in town."

Andrew's eyes widened. "Isn't that dangerous?"

"Extremely," said Wyatt gravely. "Our first thought was, of course, to say no, but the more it's lingered the less inclined I am to deny the request outright. We're expecting a lot out of you—I think there may be a way to minimize the risk. What do you think?"

"Um—the last time I was there I nearly died, but—but it might be nice to have a day as almost normal teens."

Wyatt clapped him on the shoulder. "Good, give me a day. This is going to take some planning."

Andrew stood up; his legs still felt a bit weak. "Uh—Mr. Halliwell—Wyatt…Thanks."

Wyatt grinned. "Anytime, kiddo. Anytime."

Henry Jr. stood amongst the ruins of a football stadium across the river from downtown Nashville. The scars of a major battle marred the otherwise picturesque skyline amongst the vibrant green of Middle Tennessee. Most of the damage was from the decisive victory the witch hunters won almost two years previous, effectively wiping out renegade witches from the southern United States. The leader of the local coven had been a man with a short temper fuse and even less sense; some would call him deranged. Rather than surrender the city, he had set off a series of bombs destroying major landmarks and killing hundreds of innocents, injuring thousands more. He had managed to vanquish a couple dozen highly ranked demons in the process was his excuse before being executed before the newly formed witch hunter tribunal.

Considering the recent history the mortal population of the area had with magic, the battle-weary man could not understand the reasoning for starting their efforts to win back the public's support here. He shook his head and wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand leaving a smear of gray ash in its wake. He turned aside from the view of the river separating him from the true heart of the city and faced his cousin and a heavily built middle-aged man in army fatigues.

The discussion wounded down soon after, and the man trotted off in the direction of the collection of army vehicles and the rest of his men. Henry Jr watched with concern as his cousin sighed and shut his sunken eyes. The strain of the day was evident in his pained expression.

"I hate bureaucracy," stated Anakin, massaging his thigh as Henry Jr. approached.

Henry Jr. could not think of a clever response and shrugged. "Is the leg still bothering you?"

Anakin swiveled his head in the negative. "It's habit, now. No, it seems my body finally figured out how to repair itself."

"Creep," muttered a passing military personnel.

Smirking, Anakin started walking in the opposite direction of the army troops. "Our contact in the resistance said their headquarters is not too far from here. Some place that used to be a university before everything went to hell."

"Is that where we're heading?"

"No. No, we're going to meet with your sister."

Henry Jr. frowned. "What?"

Anakin smiled knowingly and took his head. One moment they were standing next to a mortar shell blast hole, and the next they were somewhere on the other side of the world, judging by the lack of a sun in the sky. Henry Jr. twisted around and spotted a very familiar domed building. A man dressed in something akin to a clown's costume of blue, yellow, and red stripes hurried across the courtyard toward them, carrying a spear in one hand and a black cap clutched in the other.

"The Vatican!" hissed Henry Jr.

Anakin rolled his eyes and greeted the man with a warm smile. "We're expected."

The guard struggled to catch his breath. "Sorry, sir. Things…"

Anakin dismissed the guard's concern. "It is no matter. Has our friend already arrived?"

"I believe so," he said in a thick Italian accent. "The monsignor is waiting in his chambers. This way, gentlemen."

"Our friend pulled out all the stops," whispered Anakin conspiratorially.

Henry Jr.'s head was still spinning. "Um—what?" You mean Ur…"

Anakin interrupted him. "Let's keep it as 'our friend' for now."

"Right, so he set this up?"

Anakin nodded as they were led into a dimly lit corridor. "We're looking for knowledge about a being that features heavily in the Church's doctrine. It is only logical they would have an extensive collection concerning said being."

They took a right. The floor changed from polished stone to marble. The lights flickered and grew brighter.

"You think…"

Anakin held up his hand. "Let's wait until we're away from prying ears."

The guard stopped in front of a massive door and rapped on it twice with an equally large brass doorknocker. A voice inside bade them enter. The guard pushed the door open slightly and stepped aside. Anakin gestured for Henry Jr. to enter first. He did and turned just in time to see Anakin spell the guard. The man went cross-eyed for a moment before stumbling down the passage clearly drunk.

"Was that necessary?" asked Henry Jr. He still felt uneasy using magic on mortals.

Anakin shrugged. "It's best to be cautious. We can't afford to have word of this reach unwanted ears."

A man standing by the fireplace holding a glass of red wine coughed. "Gentlemen," said a man with a warm voice.

Henry Jr.'s eyes widened. "No. It can't be! Father Rowe!"

Prefect Brendan Rowe, the former half-warlock saved by the original Charmed Ones, smiled broadly before putting on a stern expression. "That is Monsignor Rowe to you, young man."

Henry Jr. laughed and walked over to the old priest and gave him a hug. "When did you give up the missionary gigs in Africa?"

Anakin took a seat beside Pyrrha with a small smirk playing around his mouth. He noticed the pile of worn tomes and fragile looking scrolls. There were even a few stone tablets sat next to a very modern computer tablet. "You've been busy."

Brendan returned to standing in front of the lit fireplace. "It's not everyday one is visited by a genuine archangel."

"Before we start—Pyrrha, do you have the spell?"

Pyrrha rolled her large eyes and produced a slip of paper. "It requires the Power of Three, though."

Anakin arched an eyebrow and took the paper and read it over. "Not for me."

The paper vanished in a flash of flames. Power flowed off Anakin disrupting loose objects throughout the office. Every port of entry or exit, no matter how small, glowed a faded orange. Anakin's ears popped, and smoke began building around the fire. He snapped his fingers. The fire sputtered out. All shadows in the room vanished.

"Sorry, Monsignor, but we cannot afford to be lax. I'll restart the flames once we've concluded our business."

Brendan stared at Anakin. "Mon Dieu! You're…"

"Not quite," said Anakin dismissively. "What I am is of little consequence to our agenda tonight. The less time I spend here; the less attention Lucifer will spend examining the area."

Pyrrha pulled a stone tablet closer to her. "I'm good with ancient languages, Annie, but these are beyond me. Penny's the real linguist; she's got that whole omnilingualism power down pat. Anything older than ancient Etruscan—it gives me a headache even looking at the script."

Brendan took up the computer and typed in a few lines of text. "This will give you access to all the libraries contents, assuming it has been digitized. It's been stored on the computer instead of sitting in the cloud. Did I say that right?"

Henry Jr. graciously accepted the computer. "All the Vatican archives are on this?"

"That is what my IT guy said. He was very concerned why I would need something like it. Something about it being highly unprecedented." Brendan shrugged.

Anakin studied one of the scrolls, paused, and looked up. "This is perfect. Thank you, Brendan."

Brendan bowed his head. "I owe your mother and her sisters a lot."

"Are you certain this is all worth it?" asked Pyrrha.

Anakin nodded, returning to reading the scroll. "Knowledge is power. Lucifer knows everything there is to know about our family. He's had millennia to study us. We need to level the playing field a bit. Somewhere in all this may be the tiny piece of information that leads to his downfall."

Pyrrha closed her eyes, exhausted. "But not tonight. I've been at this for too long. I'm heading back."

Anakin replaced the scroll on the table and rubbed his thigh. "I've got a few more things to do. Can you guys orb back?"

"We're not newbies, Annie," mocked Henry Jr. He shook Brendan's hand. "Thank you for the help."

Anakin lowered the wards and watched his cousins depart in a swirl of orbs. He eyed the remaining evidence of their search. "You're positive you can hide this."

Brendan rubbed his hands together. Anakin restarted the fire. "I still know how they think."

"I'm just an orb away if they come after you," said Anakin and vanished. Shadows popped back into their natural positions.

He returned to the Compound in the early hours of the morning. A fine layer of red and yellow dust covered his clothes. His cheeks sported impressive red marks, telltale signs of excess time spent unprotected under the sun. His back ached from hours of being hunched over. Grit irritated his eyes. He longed for a shower and his soft comfortable bed. The light in the kitchen informed him his desires would go unfulfilled for some time yet. He wished for a moment the new wards could be altered to let him orb directly into his room.

He trudged up the steps of the house's porch. His feet shuffled under the uneven ground. He reached the door and steeled himself for whoever waited inside. Opening the door slowly, he groaned. It was an ambush. His three siblings and their respective spouses were waiting for him.

He slipped inside. "Evening."

All eyes in the room settled on him.

"I've seen deserts with less dust," said Chris.

Anakin shivered and the dust evaporated. "Better? I wasn't exactly planning on entertaining at this hour."

Chris gave him an unimpressed look. "You're talking to a group of people that's had to look after newborns. You haven't even begun to feel the level of sleep deprivation you get from being a parent."

Serena touched him on the forearm. "Hun," she murmured gently.

Anakin folded his arms. "I take it we're going to have 'the talk'...again."

Wyatt with an arm snaked around Sarah's waist stepped slightly forward. "It's time, don't you think?"

Anakin looked around the group of his friends and family. There was a look of resigned stubbornness on each of their faces. He sighed and bobbed his head once in defeat. "I suppose. Where do you want to start?"

Kyle scratched his neck and shuffled his feet. "Can we move somewhere we can sit?"

"That works for me," said Anakin, giving his siblings each a meaningful look.

They resituated themselves in the main living room. Anakin sat in a chair in front of the empty fireplace, placing himself at the center of the semi-circle. Wyatt and Sarah sat to his left. Chris and Serena took the chair to his right. Prue snuggled up to Kyle in the magically enlarged loveseat. He could see each of their attempts to make the whole situation feel anything other than what it was: an interrogation.

"I can start from the beginning," stated Anakin after a few moments of uncomfortable silence.

Chris shook his head. "We don't want the runaround, Anakin. The time for keeping us in the dark has passed. We want the truth, the whole truth."

Anakin crossed his arms and frowned. He leaned forward and stared down Chris. His eyes subtly shifted from their baby blue to the dazzling sky blue and emerald. Chris blinked and looked away.

"Maybe not the whole truth then," said Anakin evenly.

Serena moaned. "Annie," she pleaded weakly.

Anakin forced himself to physically relax. "Right, sorry. Look, it's never been my intention to keep you guys in the dark. There's just—some things are too sensitive to be discussed. Others are—well—knowledge is a powerful thing. In some cases it is so powerful it strips away free will. Removal of a human's free will is a big thing, not even Lucifer messes with it."

"So you're a Power?" asked Prue in a tiny voice.

He kept still for a moment, pondering the question. Slowly, he shook his head. "No, I'm not a Power. I—uh—my rebirth was necessitated by Lucifer's return to this plain. After the events with Aeglaeca, The Balance was left in a state of limbo or could have been. Uriel—he made—he saved me, protected my being, soul or whatever, by infusing my magical essence with some of his own. In doing so he created the opening Lucifer needed to return."

A few people gasped.

"You—if he hadn't acted…"

Anakin shrugged. "I don't know. The ritual Rahab and Tiamat used was not the one Uriel thought they'd use. It is possible they could've resurrected him regardless."

"Ok, struggling a bit," said Kyle, rubbing his temples. "All this is very esoteric. Boil it down for us laypeople."

The color of the world inverted for a split second, and Uriel stood amongst them for a second. Bright lights flashed. Metal twisted and crashed, breaking. Uriel burst apart.

"What the hell was that!" yelled Wyatt.

Someone knocked on the front door. Anakin stood up. "Looks like our wards work." He left and returned with Uriel.

Uriel was dressed in all black. "I see Pyrrha's research into Enochian runes has paid off." He took Anakin's seat. Anakin stood behind him and to his right. The Angel of Death took a moment to eye each person seated in the circle. "Anakin, how did your investigations go today?"

Anakin gulped. He had not told anyone about what he had been doing. "They're progressing," he said evasively.

Uriel took a deep breath. "Tea, anyone?"

"Why are you here?" asked Wyatt through gritted teeth.

Uriel smiled, conjured a cup of steaming tea, and took a sip. "Always the impetuous one, Twice Blessed. An artifact no doubt from the false belief you have no equal. I assure you, young man, I am beyond your abilities and deserve the modicum of respect availed your betters."

Wyatt cracked his knuckles. Anakin coughed, his eyes hardened. "Uriel, you are a guest."

Uriel looked up at him. "Perhaps, I shall lead by example. I am here, Wyatt Halliwell, to ensure your brother is reminded of all that is at stake. Forget the concerns with free will. My brother, how it pains me to include him as part of my family, is highly skilled in the art of eavesdropping. Even the best wards stand little chance of inhibiting him completely. He is after all the being who taught the Master of Shadows everything he knows."

Anakin's eyes sunk down to the floor covered in shadows. "It's not like I know much."

"Every bit is an advantage. Were you not early today espousing on the power of knowledge?" Uriel stood up and handed his empty cup to Anakin. "The time has not yet come, Anakin."

Anakin closed his eyes and nodded.

"So you can learn!"

Wyatt stood up. "Listen here, bub!" He pocked Uriel in his chest.

Uriel looked down at the offending digit. His form shifted for a brief moment. The humanity in the being washed away. A creature with metallic eyes and glowing skin stood in his place wreathed in nine pure silver and fiery wings. The moment passed, and the old man stood before them again. "Yes?"

Wyatt gulped. "Um—uh…"

'That is what I thought." He turned aside. "Anakin, the angelic host remains at your call. Remember their strengths and inabilities." He took a step forward and blurred away.

"Fuck," whispered Prue.

"Yeah…" echoed a few others.

Anakin took a few deep breaths, steadying his thoughts. He took his seat, still holding the empty cup. "What else do you what to know?"

They all remained quiet for a dozen more minutes, unmoving. Then Sarah slowly sat forward. "I—uh—what did you know about Zachary?"

Anakin smiled grimly. "He was—is at the center of Lucifer's plan. A being born in pure innocence to the union of two great magical powers. He, like all of us, has the potential to be a force for good or evil. His potential to be pulled to one side or the other is greater than in most. Think of it as a similar dilemma as Phoebe or Wyatt faced. They were born under the influence of the nexus, a place inherently easily turned."

"Lucifer succeeded. He turned Zach," whispered Sarah. "He's a naagolishii."

At this, Anakin honestly shrugged. "All I've heard about naagolishii leads me to understand them as beings of power driven by great intellect and predatory instinct. That does not describe Zach. No naagolishii acts with empathy. I don't they understand how to."

"So he's not one of those?" interrupted Kyle.

"I can't say. His aura is marred by a darkness that was not there before he first transformed. What I think—no, believe is Zachary is still Zachary." Anakin met Sarah's worried eyes. "I have no doubt Lucifer's initial plans from him failed utterly. He is still possibly the being mentioned in the prophecy driving Lucifer."

"Prophecy! What prophecy?" inquired Chris.

"I mentioned it before. There is a prophecy, made by Sarah's grandmother, foretelling the doom of the Grand Design as we know it. Lucifer has interpreted it to mean as a blueprint to separate this plane from his home plane. In doing so, he will be free to rule this world however he sees fit without fear of reprisal. He's wanting to get out from under his father's watchful eyes."

Serena huddled closer to her husband. "And what do you think it means?"

"No idea. I've not heard it."

"Can we—hear it or read it? Is it written down somewhere?"

"That is one of the things I'm looking for."

Prue looked directly at him. "And the others? How do they fit in all this?"

Anakin licked his lips. "They're Zach's balance, all of them. He'll lose himself without them."

They let the magnitude of everything settle around them. Finally, Wyatt cleared his throat. Everyone turned to him.

"We—uh—um—look…if what Annie says is true. If their friendships are that important…we need to let them. Shit, it's not helping them being cooped up in this emotional powder keg. They need to go out. They need a chance to have fun."

Chris jumped in immediately. "We discussed this, Wy. Even Mom thinks it's a bad idea."

Wyatt ignored him and faced Anakin. "The guardians—they can defend a person, not just a place?"

"Yes, but it's dangerous. They're limited to defending only. Lucifer could easily overwhelm them, and they live in a morality with no latitude. A being is either a friend or they are a foe. It's why I limited their guarding of the house to only the hours we were asleep."

"For a few hours—they need to get away from this, from us. I can see it. Their relationships are on the brink of snapping. It's important," entreated Wyatt.

Chris threw his hands up. "They've got acres of woods to go and get drunk. They don't need to be out there, alone and vulnerable."

Wyatt squared his shoulders, but Sarah stopped him from speaking his mind. She eased her way into the center of the two brothers. "There hasn't been any demonic activity in town since the attack. There are no witch hunters. With the added protection of a few invisible angels and clear instructions to orb back the moment anything felt off—it terrifies me to not have Zach under my roof on a good day, never mind with a psychotic archangel hunting him. You need time to affix the more intricate wards, to work them around and in unison with my mother's death curse. You said so yourself, Christopher."

Chris glowered but kept quiet.

"And they will not be alone. I'll patrol the town without them knowing."

Anakin joined Sarah. "I've been told I can be fairly sneaky myself when I try."

The other adults exchanged concerned glances.

"This is going to backfire," huffed Chris

"We're going to see a movie," announced Rebecca happily, indicating a less thrilled Zach. "Any other takers?"

Matt pulled a face. "Isn't it only that sappy love story playing?"

Rebecca laid her head on Zach's shoulder, staring at the brunette. "Your point?"

Sophia rose to her boyfriend's defense. "It's fine, Becks; we're planning on a shopping spree. I'm all for the survivalist look, but a girl needs a dress or two."

Rebecca pretended to sulk. "Damn! I wanted to go dress shopping also."

Beth holding Richard's hand joined. "Oh, great! That means I can see the movie with you and then go shopping later. What do you think, baby?"

Richard half turned a grimace into a smile. "Sounds great," he replied in a tone that fooled no one.

Sophia eyed Andrew and Danny. "You guys joining us?"

Danny agreed silently. Andrew chewed his cheek but nodded.

"Do you think Kenny really wanted to spend time with David and Alex?" asked Matt.

Sophia rolled her eyes. "Come on, sweetie, he's supposed to be your best friend. He didn't want to be surrounded by couples."

"Oh," mouthed Matt quietly and returned to eating the sherbet he was sharing with Sophia.

Zach pushed the last spoonful of vanilla ice cream in front of Rebecca. "I feel bad leaving him behind. We should've dragged him along. He'd have fun."

"I don't know. David and Alex aren't terrible company, and I know from personal experience being the third wheel isn't fun no matter the situation," said Richard slurping the last dredges of his milkshake.

Rebecca stood up and pulled Zach to his feet. "We've got to run. Soph, remember I need uh," she waggled her eyebrows, "if you go to the convenience store."

Sophia nodded. "I remember. We'll see you guys after the movie."

Beth and Richard hurried after Zach and Rebecca. Matt waited for a beat longer before asking, "What was that about?"

"I still don't know why she thinks I'm sneakier than her. Look, she doesn't want anyone to know, especially not Zach, but she's—um—late."

Matt's eyes widened to the size of saucers and clapped a hand over his mouth. Andrew followed suit.

"Doesn't that kid know how to use a condom?" asked Danny snidely. Andrew elbowed him in the ribs.

"Ow!"

Sophia shook her head. "It could be nothing. Things have been stressful. She's not been eating, but it's a possibility."

Andrew breathed out heavily. "God, I'm glad I'm gay."

Sternly Sophia eyed each of them as they stood. "Not a word, understand?"

Matt and Andrew mimed zipping their lips shut. Danny collected their trash.

"And why doesn't she want Zach to know?" asked Danny as they started their leisurely stroll down the main street.

"Could be he just lost a kid," quipped Matt, earning himself a jab from Sophia. "What? It's true!"

Sophia glared at him imperiously. "Sensitivity."

Matt rolled his eyes. "They're not here."

"And that baby was a member of your family, Matthew," snapped Sophia.

Matt paled. "Right—never thought about it like that…shit."

Andrew wrapped an arm around Matt's waist. "Don't feel too bad. I'd have been godfather."

"Piss off! No way he'd have chosen you over me!"

Andrew stuck out his tongue and raced off. Matt chased after him.

Sophia yelled after them but gave it up as a lost cause quickly. "So—how are you?"

Danny did not immediately answer. They continued down the block. He came to a stop at the end of the second block. Sophia waited with him, silent.

"Before all this, before knowing about the Halliwells—what did you think about magic?" asked Danny so softly Sophia had to lean in to hear him.

Sophia rocked back on his heels. "Um, you'd think with my background I'd hate magic. Honestly, I didn't give it a second thought. I mean I was barely a year old when everything went down with Aeglaeca. I've never known a world where the public didn't know about magic. Also, it didn't touch me personally, or so I thought. Why?"

Danny shrugged. "Peter was my best friend—my first real friend. My dads, they were—are lovely. I never wanted for anything, but I was a quiet kid. Even in San Francisco, having two dads gets you bullied. Peter stood up for me. He ate lunch with me for a month scaring away anyone who looked at me funny. So—impressionable six-year-old me not wanting to lose the only friend I had went along with what he said. His dad—his dad was an angry man, a drunk. He hated magic—blamed it for everything wrong in his life, and he hated the Halliwells, too."

Sophia nodded along. "Matt told me Peter's dad went to school with his dad. They were rivals on the swim team."

"I've watched the old videos. Chris was amazing in the water. He deserved the captainship. I don't think anyone topped him on our team, except maybe Anakin." Danny trailed off. He jumped slightly and blinked. "Anyways, Pete's dad hated magic, so Pete hated magic and so did I. I mean, after time progressed I started thinking more for myself. I grew into myself, accepted myself, gained more friends. I stopped hating magic, but I didn't trust it. The whole thing with my dads—they never told me about it. I had no idea they were so intimately connected to it."

"I know the feeling. The day my dad told me we're witch hunter…" she trailed off,knowing it was not her time to reminisce.

Danny smiled sadly. "Then magic stole my best friend from me. It killed my dad. Drew came so close…I don't know what I'd done if I lost him." He started to tear up.

Sophia spotted Matt and Andrew approaching. She waved them away. "I'm sorry about your dad, Danny—and Peter."

"I know—I know…all the Halliwells are. Za—Zach even told me he was sorry for Peter. After everything, Peter did to him. He's a good man, a good friend. I know I'm blessed to have all of you as friends, but then I remember the six-year-old me. I wonder, then, what if I kept my distrust of magic as strong as it was back then? How much pain would it have saved me from? My family from?"

Sophia stepped closer. "Oh, sweetie, you can't think like that. Just think, if you hadn't changed. You'd never met Drew. Peter might have been even more of a tyrant. Could your friendship have lasted? Would you have stood by him if it truly had been him that raped Rebecca?"

Danny's eyes snapped onto her own. "Never!"

"I'm not saying you would have," she amended placatingly. "Danny, you are an amazing person with an even better heart. You'd have been miserable as your six-year-old self. Just look at your choices; they show who you really are."

Danny blinked and wiped aside tears. "You guys can come closer," he called.

Andrew approached quickly and enveloped him in a tight hug. They muttered things in each other's ears. Matt pulled Sophia against him and smiled.

"Let's go buy some pregnancy tests!" exclaimed Matt.

Sophia swatted the back of his head. "Seriously, Matt!"

Matt smirked and kissed her on the cheek. They walked into the convenience store attached to the gas station. The proprietor gave them a glare as they entered. Danny and Andrew decided to wait outside. Matt walked right up to the collection of family planning devices. He picked a box with twelve pregnancy sticks and held it up to Sophia. She pushed his arm down to his side and selected a box with two tests. Matt rolled his eyes and grabbed a box of condoms.

"What? Clearly, Zach needs to be better prepared."

He marched up to the counter and laid out the two items on the counter without a hint of embarrassment. The old man behind the counter raised an eyebrow. Matt returned the expression. "I like sex, but you need to be prepared, man."

The man blushed bright red and scanned the items, throwing them hastily into an opaque plastic bag.

Sophia spoke up. "Um, sir, could we have a paper bag."

The man stuffed the plastic bag into a brown bag. "Fucking hippies."

Matt paid the man with a smile. "Always a pleasure. I'll be sure to send all my friends this way. Your collection of condoms is quite extensive. I'm sure your wife is appreciative."

Sophia groaned and pulled Matt forcibly out of the store. "For God's sake."

Matt chuckled. "He deserved it. Looking at us like we're a bunch of hooligans, pfft."

"'I like sex'! What the hell, Matthew. We've not even slept together since you were rescued."

Andrew popped up. "Damn, dude! That's like a lifetime of not doing it."

Matt rounded on Andrew. "Kindly butt out." He turned back to Sophia. "All I said is 'I like sex' I didn't say anything about sex with you." Matt squeaked the moment he finished the sentence.

Sophia's face turned blood red. "WHAT!"

Matt hid behind the paper bag, holding up as a defense. "Not what I meant! Not what I meant. You know that. You're—you're the best. I—uh—um…"

Andrew opened his mouth, but Danny pulled him away.

Sophia crossed her arms. "Explain," she seethed.

Matt lowered the bag incrementally, speeding up the process as his confidence in not being pummeled grew. "Babe—all I was doing is yanking the man's chain. I didn't think about it reflecting poorly on you. You know I love you."

"I love yous won't save you, mister," said Sophia tapping her toe impatiently.

Matt sighed. "I—you know what happened on the island."

Sophia nodded. "Which is why I can't understand why you'd be so flippant about it."

"Right, it's—you know, it's me. I joke and kid when I'm uncomfortable."

Sophia's expression thawed a few degrees. "This isn't over."

Matt gulped. "Sorry?"

Sophia reached for his hand. "Is that a statement?"

Andrew and Danny joined them.

"I think the movie's almost over."

Sophia checked her watch. "We've got at least another hour. Dress shopping?"

"Yippee!" said Matt with more enthusiasm than he felt.

Sophia kissed him briefly. The group walked off ready to while away the rest of the afternoon.

Paige sat down across from her sisters at the solid dining room table. The table had the nicks and bangs furniture collected in a well used and happy home. She had no doubt the table back in her home had similar telltale marks of wear and tear. She smiled sadly to herself, remembering her home may very well no longer be standing. Her new hometown was among the hardest hit during the brief civil war aside for San Francisco.

"Do you guys feel obsolete?" asked Phoebe, pushing aside her laptop.

Piper's brows furrowed ever so slightly. It would have been missed by anyone but her sisters. Paige leaned over the table and patted her older sister's forearm.

"She doesn't mean anything bad by it, honey. Do you Pheebs?"

Phoebe shook her head vigorously. "Of course not. I'm just saying we're sitting here like a bunch of old women while our kids are off preparing for a war."

"Isn't that what we're preparing them for? The last thing we did as Charmed Ones, raise the next generation of Warren witches?"

Phoebe sat further back in her seat and smiled. "We did a damn good job."

Paige nodded in agreement. "Doesn't mean I'm not constantly in a state of panic. We fought one of those things, gave it our all, and barely survived."

"Whatever happened to the demon of the week?" asked Phoebe through a yawn.

Piper's face betrayed her concern. "Still not sleeping?"

Phoebe waved her off. "I'm fine. It's fine. Still psychic residue from the battle. Nothing I haven't dealt with before."

Lips thinning, Piper started to respond when Wyatt and Sarah walk in from the yard. Both younger adults stopped mid-argument, spotting the three sisters. Sarah gave her husband a meaningful look and walk off. Wyatt gulped and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Evening," he greeted timidly.

All three sisters adopted their "not buying it" expressions.

"Hi, Wyatt," said Piper evenly.

Wyatt cringed. "What are you guys doing up?"

Paige tapped her non-existent watch. "It's only eight-thirty. We're old, Wy, not dead."

"Not what I meant." Wyatt laughed nervously.

Phoebe pushed out the chair next to her. "Take a seat, sweetie."

Wyatt eyed the chair like it was a trap. "I, um, should head up…"

"You can spare a few minutes for your mother." Piper had perfected the no-nonsense tone as her children grew up. They all knew it was futile to argue once she started.

Wyatt huffed and collapsed into the chair.

"What's brought on this mood? All the kids got back safe. From what we heard, they enjoyed themselves."

Wyatt breathed out making his lips flap. "No, no—it's nothing about that. Although, it's nice to have them all back inside the wards. I didn't realize how stressful that was going to be. No, it's—it's something else."

"What else?" asked Piper gently.

Wyatt shook his head. "No—it's something—we need to deal with it."

Piper cocked an eyebrow. "Pumpkin, between the three of us we've got nearly a century of parental wisdom concerning raising magical kids."

Wyatt chuckled softly. "Thanks, Mom, but—this is something…"

Anakin walked in, spotted them, and tried to retreat.

"Stop right there," commanded the eldest Charmed One.

Anakin hung his head. "Hi. I—uh—wasn't expecting you to still be up."

Paige threw her hands up in the air. "How old do we look?"

Phoebe half-smiled. "Later," she said, commiserating.

Piper aimed her accusatory gaze at her youngest child. "Do you know what's going on?"

Anakin shot Wyatt a questioning and pleading glance. Foreseeing no aid from his brother, Anakin tugged on the bottom of his shirt. "Mom, it's…"

Piper held up her hand. "If you say 'nothing,' I will ground you. Don't think I can't bind your powers."

Anakin hid the smirk behind his fist, faking a cough. "Seriously, it's—whatever is going on, I'm sure Wyatt and Sarah can handle it."

"So this—it's got to do with Zach," stated Piper, eyeing Wyatt who dropped his face into his palms. She returned her gaze to Anakin who remained resolute. "And it's got nothing to do with magic."

Anakin kept silent for a minute but broke under the scrutinizing gaze of his mother. "It's just normal teenager problems."

"Normal!" gasped Wyatt, laughing hollowly. "Out of all of us, all of us! Not one of us had this problem."

Anakin shrugged.

The sisters frowned.

"Alright, one of you is going to fill us in," implored Phoebe.

Anakin shook his head sadly. "Sorry, Phoebe, it's not my place." He stood up. "I've got a conference call with our allies in Washington. Excuse me."

"Coward," whispered Wyatt as Anakin walked past him. Anakin flipped him off careful to do so when his mother could not see.

Three sets of eager eyes settled on Wyatt.

"Damn," he groaned.

Paige sighed and gave into her sympathy for her godson. "We just want to help, but we won't force it out of you. Right?"

Phoebe caved next and nodded. Piper folded her arms, face stern.

"Piper," hissed Paige.

The matriarch rolled her eyes. "Of course. We just want to help."

Wyatt offered his mother a thankful smile. "I know. Thank you."

He slowly got up. "Now, I've got to yell at my irresponsible son."

Pyrrha sat hunched over at the desk Anakin conjured for her. They had turned the basement into a miniature version of a world-class research library. A half dozen servers hummed behind her. Each server was tasked with different search criteria. An old colleague from Magic School who specialized in technokinesis, the ability to magical manipulate technology, had crafted a spell to magically hide their digital fingerprint; it allowed them to connect the servers to the outside world for a few hours every day. The massive computer underneath her desk acted as a download dump, giving them access to the found information during the time required to keep the servers offline.

Currently, her monitor was black. She was carefully translating a text in Latin written by an apothecary around the same time as Julius Caesar was assassinated give or take a few months. She had a theory that certain historical events were influenced by Lucifer's manipulations. During those times his presence would disturb the energies of the world, and she hoped those disturbances would lead to something, a revelation.

Her sister had her own desk. It was piled with printed photographs of stones marked with hieroglyphics and cuneiform. Two massive dusty leather-covered tomes sat on one corner; they were written in a language Pyrrha could not even guess at. Anakin had taken a quick look at it and pronounced them from China but was not familiar with the alphabet. Pyrrha did not think the text looked Chinese, but she did not argue with Anakin's declaration. Penelope had yet to try and decipher their contents.

They were inundated with possible clues and information. It would require a small army of dedicated researchers years to sort through everything they had collected so far. She could only fathom how much longer it would take to make sense of the information and rule out false trails. The whole effort felt hopeless.

"Mom's worried about you."

Pyrrha jumped. She had not realized Penelope had returned from lunch. She saw the concern in her sister's eyes.

"I'm fine, Pen."

Penelope sighed. "You need to eat. You skip the last three meals."

"I've got my snacks." She patted a small plastic bag of nuts and dried fruit.

They did not have the time for her to take hours out of her day to join in with the family mealtimes. She was the only one working on the research full-time. Penelope had her children to look after, so did their baby brother. Henry Jr. did come down and help during little Ivan's naps, but it amounted to only a few hours a day. He also had an active power useful in a battle. He needed to train.

Training and coordinating attacks kept Anakin busy most days. The blond witch was barely seen around the Compound. He had spent at least two weeks away just a few weeks ago. He returned with news of the greater part of the eastern seaboard being freed from Lucifer's reign. The victory was a milestone, but it also meant their allies had territory to protect. Progress in terms of new re-captures would be slow while Lucifer remained a threat.

The victory bothered Pyrrha. It cost a great many lives both mortal and magical, but not nearly to the level she was expecting, especially since it meant Washington D. C. was now under their command. She could not understand why Lucifer would surrender a strategic city like the capital of the United States without making an appearance, yet not even one of his three remaining lieutenants were seen in the fray by Anakin.

"…maybe at least go up to say morning? Py?"

Pyrrha forced herself to focus on her twin sister. "What? Sorry."

Penelope sighed dramatically. "Never mind. Have you at least found something?"

Pyrrha's eyes wondered over the stacks of books and artifacts scattered around the room. "I—um…"

"You need to take a break. Being cooped up down here is not helping anyone."

Pyrrha laughed hollowly. "This is nothing, sis. I spent two weeks stuck in that cramped genetics lab during the week leading up to my dissertation. I'm used to working long hours in less inviting environments than this. We need to find some clue or something."

Penelope sat down at her desk, thumbed through one of the thinner volumes. "Most of this is junk, the ravings of madmen and mortals way too interested in demonology. I did a quick search for popular novels about angels; there nearly four hundred thousand fictional novels out there, forget including religious texts and writings. Why'd Anakin think this was a good idea?"

"Because he thinks we can find a weakness…"

Penelope rolled her eyes. "If there was a weakness, it'd be in the Book."

"Not necessarily. The Book is a recording of what our family and ancestors encountered. There was a vanquishing potion or spell for Hellequin in it, but I don't think it was accurate. The witch that wrote the entry certainly had no idea Hellequin was a Power."

Someone knocked on the basement's door. Both sisters looked at each other and frowned. No one knocked.

"Who is it?" yelled Penelope.

The door cracked up, filling the cool room with the faint echoes of a full house.

"Um…"

"Stopping being silly," whispered another voice.

The first voice grew stronger. "Um, it's Danny and Drew."

Pyrrha's frown deepened. Penelope shrugged.

"Come on down," she called.

The two teen boys descended the steps and stopped on the last one. Both were fidgety; Daniel more so than Andrew.

"We—er—I was wondering if you needed help," stuttered Danny.

Pyrrha studied both boys. "What's brought this on?"

"Py! Be nice," admonished Penelope.

"We don't have time for distractions," hissed Pyrrha.

Penelope ignored her sister. "Do you know what we're doing?"

Andrew nodded. "Zach told us. You're looking for anything about—uh—the Powers."

Pyrrha smirked mildly impressed the teen was able to stop himself from saying Lucifer. They did not want to attract his attention and avoided saying his name as best they could. "Correct. We are. Are you able to read other languages?"

"I know Spanish," said Andrew helpfully.

Penelope gave him a small smile. "There are some texts in English. Plus, there's a lot of information on the computers we've not gotten to."

Daniel cleared his throat. "I—um—I took Latin. I know the basics. I'm a little bit more fluent in Arabic and Farsi because of my dad."

"Perfect. We've got a few articles we've been meaning to take up to Layla but haven't yet. See what you can make of them. Then just start going through the piles, one at a time. Even if you can't understand everything, skimming to find keywords will help. Pyrrha or I can look at anything you find in more detail." Penelope looked at her sister with a questioning glance. One eyebrow raised in a challenge.

Pyrrha nodded her consent and went back to studying the apothecary's journal. The basement drifted into a drone-less silence. Pages ruffled. The boys shifted uncomfortably on the floor. Mindlessly, Pyrrha reached for her snacks and munched on a nut or two. Hours went by. Penelope left to help get all the little kids ready for dinner. Pyrrha moved on from the journal, finding only vague useless alliterations and poetic language to describe destruction and something about a garden.

"Um—Ms. Love?"

Pyrrha looked up from a French Medieval article on the archangels. She was surprised to find both boys standing in front of her desk. Daniel was holding a piece of paper. He laid it on the table in front of her and pointed to a specific phrase.

"I keep finding references like this. Andrew's found a few as well. What does a garden have to do with all this?"

Pyrrha brows furrowed, aging her. She read the indicated line and stopped breathing. It was too similar to be a coincidence. She had dismissed the references. The Garden of Eden, or something similar, appeared in a few Creation myths; one of the few times the archangels were believed to walk visibly on the Earth. The phrasing was archaic and out of place in the document.

"How similar were the other references?" she asked quickly, not looking up.

"Very—I think," muttered Danny.

She took a deep breath. "Try and find the other ones. I need to see. Um—please, and thanks."

Andrew heaved a tome of his own onto the desk. "Is this similar enough?"

The text was in Middle English, but the line was older in syntax. She would have to check with Penelope. Language was her sister's forte. She looked at the two untranslatable books on her sister's desk. They needed to figure this out.

The sound of small feet interrupted her thought process. Phebe Halifax climbed down into view, gripping tightly to the railing. She reached the bottom and looked immensely pleased with herself.

"Mommy says it's dinner time."

Andrew's stomach chose to growl obnoxiously. "So does my tummy," he joked.

Phebe giggled. The boys glanced at Pyrrha. She relented. They were on to something, but she would never pry her sister away from a family dinner. Research would just have to wait. Phebe took her hand and pulled her along hurriedly back up to the kitchen.

Even after nearly a year of living at the Compound Pyrrha was not used to the organized chaos of a Halliwell family dinner. Dinners had been unruly enough when she was a child, but now there was an entirely new generation gathered around the tables. She did miss Christmas lunch at the Manor.

Trailing along in the serpentine line, she found herself between Anakin and a quiet Kenny. She frowned; finding it curious the teen was not further up with the rest of the older children. Unfortunately, it would not be her place to ask. They were only acquaintances. Anakin, choosing to include them both in the conversation between himself and Nathan Torres, saved her the internal debate.

"…right, Kenny? Pyrrha?"

Kenny's eyes widened. "Um, what?"

Anakin smiled and repeated the question. "Photography is a difficult art form, right?"

Pyrrha gulped. Art was not her forte.

Kenny lit up. "It takes a certain eye, sure, but I wouldn't say it's difficult. At least, it's not harder than any other type of art. You're a photography?"

Nathan nodded. "I worked for the New York Times. My true passion is nature photography."

"Do you work in all digital or…"

Pyrrha tuned out the conversation but caught the knowing smirk lingering on Anakin's lips. She rolled her eyes. "You did that on purpose."

Anakin shrugged. "He's had a tough few days: news about his girlfriend and her family. How goes the research?"

"It'd be going a lot faster if you let us use translation spells. We could get everyone down there and at least make a headway."

Anakin shook his head. "Translation spells are almost as bad as plugging the stuff into an online translating tool. You'll lose the nuisances. Plus, I'd prefer to keep the research group small. It'll get harder to keep things off his radar if we all worked on it."

Pyrrha crossed her arms. "He's spying on us. Surely he already knows?"

"He's a very capable spy, and from what I've heard Set is almost his equal. I'm certain they know we're researching something. I'm, also, fairly certain they don't know the details." Anakin picked up a plastic plate. "There are about a dozen telepathic inhibition wards built into the new system. It's not perfect, but it'll make him pinpointing any one thing difficult."

Pyrrha nodded along, adding a heaping pile of green beans to her plate. Apparently, she was hungrier than she imagined. "They're strong enough to keep Uriel from just coming in."

"But he still knows just about everything we're up to. Powers are connected to magic on a level we can barely comprehend. The only way to truly ward an area off from a Power would be to completely remove magic—an all but impossible feat."

"How do you know so much?"

Anakin's smirk returned. "I did spend quite a few years being trained by Uriel. Even my thick skull couldn't keep all the information out."

"So that's where you were—um—all those years?" She picked a few chicken drumsticks.

"Time passes differently in the Beyond, but essentially yes. I spent a bit of time where you'd normally end up, but—I couldn't stay. My soul is not wholly human."

Pyrrha nearly dropped her plate piled with food. "What?"

Anakin shrugged. "There aren't a lot of substances capable of extinguishing Holy Fire. Even though Uriel acted as quickly as he did—what I did to destroy Aeglaeca did a lot of damage." He blinked and his baby blue eyes changed color. One turned emerald and the other a much darker more unsettling blue. "The eyes are the windows to the soul," he whispered morosely.

Pyrrha composed herself. "So you're—what?"

"I'm me. There's just this—uh—other stuff holding my soul together. Think of it as supernatural superglue. That's how I wrapped my mind around it."

His tone was joking, but she saw the pain in his unfamiliar eyes. Her heart ached for him. She reached out and laid her hand on his forearm, giving it a gentle squeeze. He looked down at it. Confusion flickered over his face. He smiled weakly.

"Sorry, didn't mean to be a downer," he murmured.

Pyrrha chewed her lip. "You can talk to me," she offered.

Anakin shook his head. "Thanks, but we don't have time. Let's get the job done first."

Pyrrha nodded slowly. She ate a few mouthfuls of food in silence.

"We need to talk," she blurted out.

Anakin looked up from his own plate. "What?" he asked excitedly.

"After dinner. We need to get Penny. I think we may have found something."

The blond witch nodded his head somberly but did not press her for more information. It struck her how much the young man before her had grown up despite not looking much older than the day he died. He had always been an inquisitive boy to the point of aggravating. She continued to eat her dinner, lost in silent thought. The low drone of dozens of conversations surrounded her. Little giggles punctuated the evening. In the first time, in a long time, she felt like she could breathe. The weight of her research lifted if only for a few blessed minutes.

Anakin left the table after a few minutes, following a sulking Zach out toward the kitchen. He returned sans the teenager just as she finished the last piece of her peach cobbler. He looked tired, his eyes dull and the remnants of an angry blush highlighted his cheeks.

"Everything alright?" she asked when he reached their mostly abandoned table.

Anakin blinked and sighed heavily. "Yeah, he's not angry with me."

Pyrrha glanced over at the table with the rest of Anakin's siblings. Wyatt was pushing his melted vanilla ice cream around with a bent spoon. Sarah appeared to be talking to Prue, but she kept looking in the direction of the kitchen. Both parents were clearly under strain and trying not to show it.

"What's going on?"

Anakin shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Not my place to say."

Pyrrha nodded still at a complete loss. "But it will be fine."

"There isn't any—uh—physical reason for it to not be," he answered cryptically.

Before she could further her interrogation, he changed the subject. "Hey, Penny!"

Penelope who was helping heard a ground f the younger children up the stairs looked over her shoulder. She said something to Payton and walked over to them. Somehow, Andrew and Daniel appeared at the same moment, both brimming with eagerness. Anakin frowned for half a second before accepting their inclusion in silence.

"What's up?" inquired Penelope. "The kids all need to be bathed. They found out playing in the mud is a blast. We got them mostly cleaned up for dinner but…"

Pyrrha leaned in conspiratorially. "We think we found something."

Penelope snapped her mouth shut. Her eyes grew large, and she eyed Anakin. "Seriously?"

Anakin shrugged. "I've not heard anything. Your sister was waiting for you."

Pyrrha ruffled her deep red hair. "It'll be easier to show you."

She led the way to the basement. Gathering the few examples she had of the passage, she passed them over to Anakin. She held onto the one Daniel had found. Andrew and Daniel stood to one side, bouncing on the balls of their feet. She pointed out the section of text.

"This is translated word for word in all these documents. It's a description of a garden once open to the world. In it were all these amazing natural features, including these two trees in the center."

"The Garden of Eden," supplied Anakin almost dismissively.

Pyrrha grimaced. "I don't think so. There are other references to the Garden of Eden, mainly in the texts from the Abrahamic faiths. These words appear in Hindu, ancient Greek, the Celtic religions. If Penny finds it in those two texts which most certainly predate any texts that could reasonably be assumed to be influenced by the Garden of Eden myth—this could be it. Look at the passage. It uses the same archaic style no matter the language. It's as if—as if the words can't be written any other way."

Penelope pulled one of the tomes toward her. "This is in pictographs predating any known written language. Where'd we find it?"

Anakin coughed. "It's not exactly human in origin."

"What!"

"It was in that temple I searched a few months back. I thought it was just a holy text for the entomata initially, but they did not have a written tongue. The chamber, it was designed by a Power," explained the blond sheepishly.

"This is the chamber you dragged my son and Kenny to?" asked Chris from the stairs.

Anakin bowed his head. "Correct."

Chris frowned. "They told me the story. You read an inscription in entomata to get out of the chamber."

"Actually it was in the tongue of angels, the language spoken by all beings before the banishment of Lucifer."

Penelope interrupted any form of argument. "That's what the book is written in?"

Anakin shook his head. "I don't recognize the script. My best guess it is a dialect unfamiliar to Uriel."

"Is that possible?" asked Pyrrha anxiously.

Anakin faced her. "There's a great deal Uriel does not know or is unwilling to share." He tone of distaste pulled at his facial features.

Andrew fidgeted, drawing the attention of all the adults to him. He gulped. "Um, I…" he fell silent unsure what he wanted to say.

Chris ignored the teens and crossed the distance between him and Anakin in a few determined strides. He grabbed a bunch of Anakin's shirt in his fist and shoved his brother into Pyrrha's desk. His eyes narrowed. "No more games, Anakin."

Anakin looked down at Chris's fist. "Not a game."

Chris released him and crossed his arms. "Bullshit. Every step there's been something you've kept from us. Using Zach as a spy. I'm positive you suspected the depth of Kenny's issues long before that night. Hell, the exploration of that chamber was months ago. You've had this book lying around for months!"

"Chris!" exclaimed Pyrrha, trying to pry the brothers apart.

Chris roughly pushed her aside. His eyes blazed with anger. "No, Pyrrha. We've all talked about it. You can't tell me you've questioned his loyalties."

At the word, the room shook sending Chris stumbling backward. He tripped over his feet and fell, hard. Anakin's eyes shone brightly. His face set in a stern expression of extreme disapproval. He opened his mouth. The sound caused the rest in the room the clapped their hands over their ears in an attempt to save their eardrums. The blond witch took a deep measured breath and visibly fought to bring himself back under control.

When he spoke it was in his normal voice. "Never question my loyalty. Everything, everything I've done is to save this family. My family." His body shook with suppressed rage.

Chris crawled back and struggled back onto his feet, helped by Daniel and Andrew. "Then tell us. Talk to us. Stop acting like the fucking self-important Elders!"

"I CAN'T!" Anakin snapped. "I literally can't. You know I can't. This isn't a choice. I must abide by the laws, not rules—laws. I stray—if I try and break—giving you everything I know will restrict your free will, your choice. Free will is an absolute right. If a Power or I mess with it, there're dire consequences. It's what weakened Aeglaeca enough for me to destroy him: his manipulations of our family. The consequence for me—I vanish. I don't die—I vanish. I cease to exist."

Everyone stared at him in shock.

Anakin closed his eyes and sighed. "It would not matter to me—to vanish, but I know you'll need me. The battle, the final battle, it'll be deadly. It'll be a miracle if we all make it out alive. I'm hoping the sacri—I'm planning to be the one to die should it come to it. Understand? This isn't me being aloof. It's the only way I can see to be there when the time comes." His eyes were filled with tears by the end of his speech. He took a shuddering breath in and turned away from them.

The room kept silent. No one dared move or even breathe.

Chris took a step forward. "Anakin…"

Anakin shook his head. "Don't, Chris! Let's get back to the matter at hand. Penny, can you translate the book?"

Penny hesitated but chose to sit down. She poured over the book, flipping through pages rapidly. She stopped midway. Her brows furrowed. She dragged her finger across the same line in the text a half-dozen times.

"It's not trees," she whispered.

"What?"

She sat back and looked at them. "The two trees—the word isn't tree, well it is, but it could mean—Power with a capital 'P.'"

"Read it to us," instructed Anakin.

She cleared her throat. "The last and greatest of gates guard a sacred garden. In the garden is the greatest beauty in all creations. At the center, in the heart of a grand orchard stand two sister Powers…"

Chris's breath hitched in his throat. "Orifiel and Simiel."

"What?" questioned Penelope at the same time as Daniel.

Pyrrha grabbed a book off the shelf behind her and slapped it down on her desk. It opened to a page listing out archangels. "They are listed as archangels in some texts, not much is known about them. Some suggest they were the caretakers of the Garden of Eden before the Fall."

Anakin waved his hand and a holographic picture of a mosaic appeared in mid-air. The mosaic depicted seven figures, five men and two women. It was the artistic rendering of the Powers from the temple as seen by Kenny. He pointed at the two women. "Do they look familiar to you?"

Pyrrha gasped. "Impossible."

"I don't get it," insisted Andrew.

Anakin gestured again. Two pictures appeared alongside the hologram. "This is a painting of the fictional fairy queen Mab. The other is of Titania."

Andrew shrugged. "Still not getting it."

"They're one and the same. Orifiel and Simiel are Mab and Titania, probably a dozen other mythological goddesses. It makes sense."

"Lucifer said something similar when he was interrogating me," admitted Chris.

Anakin chuckled at the irony. "Looks like we're looking for a portal into fairyland, and not the types of fairies Mom and the aunts dealt with before. These are far more powerful figures."

"You think they're in another realm?" asked Pyrrha.

Anakin nodded. "They couldn't exist fully on this plane, not without a counterbalance to their powers. We'll need to find their realm."

"We know someone who's ripped the fabric of reality before," said Chris.

"And so does Lucifer," whispered Anakin.

AN: And so we begin the countdown. What did we all think? Almost everything is on the table now. Thank you to everyone who is sticking with me. It means a lot.