Okay, so I couldn't write a scene about digging up a grave and NOT include a couple of special guest stars, who will more than likely show up again much later on in the story as well.
CHAPTER 25
Kiss from a Rose on the Grave
The Halliwell family had participated in more bizarre activities than a normal human being could possibly even imagine. They'd been transformed into animals, ghosts, the opposite gender, mythical creatures, super heroes, fairy tales, and monsters. They'd seen the unbelievable countless times– including but clearly not limited to everything previously listed. Not to mention the lengths they would go for a vanquish, which ranged from using animal parts they never knew existed to burying ashes in cemeteries in the middle of the night. However, on their many trips to said cemetery, they had never participated in the event currently underway– grave robbing.According to Piper Halliwell's new watch, which she checked about every three minutes, it was well past two in the morning, and instead of being wrapped up in her husband's arms underneath the coziness of her comforter, she was standing a few feet away from a newly dug grave in the middle of Nebraska.
"I think I hit it," Wyatt announced as his shovel clanged against something hard. He pulled a face. "I just hit some poor dead guy's coffin. . .I'm so going to hell. . ."
Chris rolled his eyes, and dug his spade deeper into the earth, ploughing through until he revealed the top of an oak coffin. Without hesitating, he plunged the sharp edge of the shovel into the deteriorated wood, splitting it open to reveal a long, grey haired skeleton.
The Twice Blessed pulled a face, swiping at the air in front of his nose. "Damn that's foul."
"Okay, we've got it," Chris called up to his parents. "Now, we grab a bone, re-bury the coffin and get the heck out of here."
"Christopher, could you at least feign a little unease at the prospect of vandalizing someone's resting place?" his mother chastised.
"No time for that," Leo announced, "someone's coming."
Before the Halliwells could even think of orbing away from the cemetery, dust could be seen flying up from the gravel road running parallel to the old cemetery. Within a few moments, a black chevy impala, one headlight out, came roaring down the one way lane being followed by some sort of large wolf.
The wolf, spotting the others nearby, turned from its course and started charging toward the family in the cemetery, its feet flying underneath its furry body as it dashed at speeds one would think completely impossible for an earth bound animal to travel.
Meanwhile, the midnight black car on the road skidded to a halt, the two front doors flying open as a pair of men jumped from the front seats, guns in hand as they took up pursuit of the charging animal. The shorter of the two started firing shots mid-run, but only succeeded in nicking the animal's right ear.
Upon the bullets impact with the animal's ear, the wolf halted, rearing back on its hind legs as it howled in pain. To the surprise of the Halliwells, the hind legs soon turned into human legs, its body stretching out into that of a man as paws became hands and jowl changed to jaw. Soon, standing before them was a tall native American man with flickering yellow eyes.
"Don't look him in the face," called the taller of the two strangers as he and his partner continued pursuit.
"Come back and face us you cowardly son of a bitch," the shorter challenged, firing off two more shots from his .45 colt.
The creature took off at a run again, a blur in its movements as it headed straight for Piper who instinctively flicked out her hands to freeze the man-beast. Unfortunately, whatever it was moved too fast for her powers to catch hold of him. The creature raised a hand to rip into the Charmed One, but Chris, fast on the draw, raised his arm into the air just a second before the creature's claws made contact with the teen's mother. The result was Chris sending the attacker flying into a nearby headstone.
"Say good night you skin stealing bastard," the man with the colt declared before taking aim and firing one last time to send a silver bullet soaring through the night air and into the chest of the thing lying dazed by the headstone.
The bullet pierced the chest of the creature, tiny electric bolts zapping through the area as the monster screamed out in agony before suddenly slumping over dead in its spot, its yellow eyes never to move again.
"You guys all right?" the other stranger directed to Piper and Leo.
"Are they all right?" his partner repeated. "Didn't you see that kid full on Max the skin-walker?"
The other rolled his green eyes, ignoring the comment. "He didn't scratch you or anything, did he? You didn't look directly into his eyes?"
"No," Leo answered. "We're fine."
"Great. That's-uh-great. Me and my partner here, are just going to be going then," the shooter responded, pulling on the larger man's arm to no avail. "Sammy, come on. Let's go."
Sammy, as he was called, easily shook free from the shorter man's grasp, turning his attention to the two boys in the grave. His green eyes narrowed as he focused on Chris. "You used telekinesis back there."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Chris replied.
"Sure you don't. Just like I'm sure underneath all that calm you're really freaking out about what you just saw here, which is why when the skin-walker attacked your mom you didn't blink an eye."
Wyatt frowned, "Skin-walker?"
"It's like a cross between a werewolf and a shape shifter," the boys' father explained without thinking. "It's part of Native American lore. The only way to kill it would be a silver bullet to the heart."
"Whoa. Okay, who the hell are you people?" the shorter man asked.
Piper folded her arms over her chest. "Who are we? Who are you?"
"We don't have to tell you an– "
"– I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean."
Dean, which was the name of the man responsible for killing the skin-walker, wasted no time turning on his sibling. "Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?"
Sam, ignoring his sibling, continued, "We're hunters. I get the feeling you guys are something else, though. Am I right?"
"Witches," Wyatt answered. "Good ones."
Dean immediately grumbled under his breath, "I hate friggin' witches."
Sam shot his brother a look before returning his attention back to the others. "In our experience witches aren't exactly known for playing for the good guys. Especially those with actual powers like the one you displayed."
"Believe whatever you want to believe," Chris shot back. "We're busy trying to steal a bone to summon a corpse to get revenge on the demon responsible for killing my girlfriend, so if you could just be on your merry way, we'll all get back to work. Thanks."
"Chris," Leo warned.
"Someone didn't get their nap today," Dean remarked.
The youngest son rolled his eyes.
"A demon killed your girlfriend?" Sam questioned, his green eyes softening immediately. "I'm so sorry for your loss. I know what it's like to lose someone you love like that."
Chris lowered his eyes. "Then, I'm sorry for your loss too."
"You say you're hunters?" Leo asked. "Named Sam and Dean?"
"You've heard of us?"
"Rumors. Nothing anyone really took seriously. Just, about twenty years ago there was word of two young men named Sam and Dean Winchester that were out hunting supernatural evil. It was even said a demonic war was brewing, and those two were responsible for stopping it and saving the world. No one thought it was possible two men without powers could actually do something like that."
"Well, believe it," Dean said. "That was us."
Wyatt raised his eyebrows in appreciation. "Wow. Impressive."
"Whatever," Chris remarked. "Join the club."
Leo extended a hand to Sam. "Then, it's an honor to meet you. My name is Leo Wyatt. This is my wife, Piper and our sons, Wyatt and Chris. Piper is actually a Charmed One."
"A what?"
"A Charmed One?" Sam asked. "That legend is real?"
Dean frowned at his brother. "What legend? What are you talking about?"
"Well, there is a legend in certain circles claiming the Charmed Ones are three sister witches. One moves things with her mind, another stops time and the third sees the future. They're pretty much the most powerful witches to ever live, and unlike most of the witches we've come across their powers are natural– not demonically bestowed, meaning they are actually good witches."
"Oh. I knew that."
"Great. Introductions over," Chris cut in. "I have work to do."
Not waiting a minute longer, Chris reached his arm into the coffin, grabbing hold of a rib bone and pulling until he heard a crack as it broke off into his hand. He pulled it out and set it on the edge of the grave before picking up his shovel again and starting to pile the dirt back onto the coffin.
"Do you need any help?" Sam offered, feeling for the kid. "My brother and I are sort of experts."
Chris didn't respond.
Wyatt frowned as he saw a little yellow blanket moving toward them of its own accord. He pointed toward it. "Uh, guys, what's that?"
The little blanket suddenly lowered revealing the sleepy face of a girl no more than four or five years old, her brown hair in pig tails and her pajamas covered in little purple ducks. She tilted her head as she saw Chris piling the dirt back into the open grave. She turned her big brown eyes up to Sam. "Are they hunters too?"
"Mary, I thought we told you to stay in the Impala."
"I woke up," she explained as though it were obvious. She looked over to Dean. "Did you kill the bad thing?"
"Was there any doubt?"
The little girl shook her head back and forth, the two brown tails on her head swooshing back and forth.
Piper moved toward the little girl, her maternal instinct taking over. She removed her coat and placed it over the tiny girl's shoulders. "It's too cold out here for a little girl. You should be at home in your nice warm bed."
"We had to kill the bad thing."
The mother shot a dark look up to the two Winchesters. "You brought her with you on a vanquish? What is the matter with you two? She's just a little girl. It's almost three o'clock in the morning. She should not be standing out in the middle of a graveyard. She should be at home, safe and warm."
Dean stepped forward, his green eyes sharp. "Hey, Lady, don't tell us how to take care of my niece. You know nothing about us. She's fine. She's safer with us than anywhere else. Besides, we don't have any one we could leave her with, and she'd be in danger alone at some motel. Besides, you aren't exactly parent of the year with your two kids digging that grave over there."
"Excuse me?"
"Piper," Leo tried.
Sam put a hand on his brother's shoulder, "Dean..."
While Dean and Piper started tearing into each other about the other's parenting skills, Wyatt kept his eyes on Mary who toddled over to the grave where she sat down on the edge, cuddling her little yellow blanket. She looked up at Wyatt and smiled shyly. "Hi. I'm Mary."
"Hey, Cutie, I'm Wyatt."
The little girl looked over to Chris. "Hi."
No response.
She scrunched up her little face. "I said hiiiii."
Wyatt turned to tap his brother on the shoulder. "Chris, someone's talking to you."
"I'm a little busy right now."
Mary, upset at being ignored, threw her blanket at Chris. The yellow fleece landed over the teenager's head, causing him to stop what he was doing to remove it. At which point, he realized a little girl was currently staring at him from the edge of the grave. He looked over to Wyatt who was smiling like an idiot. "Who's the kid?"
"I'm Mary," said child answered, batting her eyelashes at the brunet.
"I'm Chris."
"You're cute," the little girl giggled.
The older brother stifled a laugh as Chris' eyes went wide in response to the pig tailed four year old making eyes at him from the edge of the grave. Even through the dark of the night, anyone could see the young man's cheeks were bright red. "Uh...thanks. You too."
"Come here."
"Why?"
The little girl pouted. "Pleeeeease?"
Chris set down his shovel and moved to stand in front of the little girl. Before he knew what was happening the child had taken her tiny hands and placed them on either side of his face forcing him into a peck on the lips.
"Whoa," Dean commented, spotting the scene. "Guess the little tyke takes after her Uncle Dean, huh, Sammy?"
Piper, mid-rant paused to look back over her shoulder to see what it was the hunter was referring to. She caught the tail end of the kiss and immediately started smiling at how adorable it was.
Leo, also turning to see, couldn't wipe the smile off his own face. "It's funny. Kids and Chris don't normally go together very well. The little ones usually flock to Wyatt..."
"He probably reminds her of us," Sam commented.
Dean folded his arms over his broad chest. "Come her teenage years, we're gonna have to watch this one like a hawk. Ain't no guy getting anywhere near her."
"Is that so?" Sam asked with a chuckle.
"I know what guys think– what they really want. I used to be one. No way in hell is one getting near Mary. That kiss is gonna be her last till she's like...thirty."
Sam shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Right." Turning to the other parents, "Well, Piper, you are right. Mary should be in bed. So, we need to go, but," he reached into his jacket pocket pulling out a card, "here's my cell number. If you ever need our help just give us call."
"Will do," Piper promised, pocketing the number.
Sam turned to Chris, who had just climbed out of the grave, rib bone in his hand. "I hope you get the demon responsible. I really do."
"Me too."
Dean Winchester removed Piper's coat from Mary, slipping his own over her shoulders instead, while Leo grabbed his wife's and returned it to her. Meanwhile, Dean scooped his niece up into his arms, depositing the girl onto his shoulders. "Come on, Mary. Time to catch some z's."
"But, I'm not tired," she whined.
"You think I care?"
"Five card stud to stay up?"
"You cheat."
"Do not."
"Do so."
"Do no-ot."
"Do so-oh."
Sam shook his head. "Dean, you realize you're arguing with a four year old, right?"
"Dude, what's your point? I'm winning."
"Sure you are." Sam turned to the others. "It was very nice meeting all of you. Like I said, just give us a call if you need anything."
"We will," Piper assured him.
Mary turned her head to smile back at Chris. "Bye, Chris."
The teen gave a little wave, his cheeks still bright red.
As the Winchester brothers disappeared toward the black Impala still parked on the dirt road, the little girl negotiating with her Uncle for more time, Leo and Piper couldn't help but think about the dynamic between the two strange men. In only the few moments they'd passed with the two hunters, both parents were strongly reminded of their own two boys and the strong bond they shared. They wondered if the child coming into their lives soon (based on Phoebe's premonition) would be like Mary– loved completely by both father and uncle, and if the child's life were bound to be just as chaotic.
000
Casey had returned to Halliwell manor to find the place completely deserted. It was an unusual occurrence. Most of the time the Manor was bustling with both immediate and distant family. Some members of the group weren't even corporeal. So, to find the place so empty was a little disconcerting. While the old Victorian home had been more of a home to her than her own, right now, all alone, she was a little frightened.
Sitting up in the attic, the place where she generally felt safest, the witch curled up on Aunt Pearl's sofa with a throw blanket from Chris' room, her former boyfriend currently curled up on her feet and snoring. The noise emitted from the small dog was surprising; who knew something so small could sound so loud?
"Then, I have to subtract here...no. That's not right," she murmured, erasing her calculus problem for the third time. It was amazing she wasn't failing all her classes as distracted as she'd been since getting back to the States. Not to mention, math wasn't exactly her favorite subject to begin with.
Then of course was the fact it was almost three in the morning and her body was starting to go to into slumber mode without her permission. Her eyelids felt heavier each time she read over the problem. Her head was starting to tilt back to rest on the back of the couch when she caught herself and jerked back upright.
It was after the fourth time she'd nearly dosed off that orb lights lit up the area, accompanied by a soft jingle. Piper, Leo and the boys stepped out of the ethereal lights a moment later. Chris and Wyatt were covered in dirt and sweat, and it appeared to Casey as though her best friend was holding a human bone in his hand, which, in any other family, would have been out of the realm of possibility. For her, it was just out of the ordinary.
"Hey, why aren't you in bed?" Wyatt asked, immediately concerned. "It's late."
"Why is Chris holding some human's rib in his hand?"
"I asked first."
Casey rolled her eyes. "Couldn't sleep with no one home. Felt weird."
"Using it to summon Marshal Bannon's corpse."
"Oooh."
Piper set her eyes on the furry animal resting on the old sofa. "What is that? More importantly, why is it in my house?"
The young woman didn't get the chance to answer the question because it was at this moment the little dog awoke from all the talking, his brown eyes popping open and immediately setting their sights on Chris. With a low growl, the wiener dog leaped from the end of the sofa and threw himself at the brunet teenager, yipping and snapping at the witchlighter.
"What the hell?" Chris questioned, blocking the sharp teeth with the bone without thinking.
Sam, being a dog, immediately went for the bone, grasping it firmly in his strong jaw. With a few good jerks, the dachshund managed to rip the bone from Chris' hand. Once the article was firmly in his doggy mouth, Sam tore out of the attic like a little brown blur.
"Sam, no," Casey cried, jumping to her feet.
It was already too late though. The animal was long gone.
"Sam?" Chris questioned. "You named your new pet Sam?"
"A. So not my pet. B. I didn't name him his parents did."
"Excuse me?"
"That was Sam."
"That was a dog."
"In our world the two do not necessarily have to be mutually exclusive," Casey pointed out.
"She has a point," Wyatt agreed. "Sure explains why he hated you on sight."
"Gee, thanks, Wy."
Leo formed a 'T' with his hands. "Wait a minute. That dog was actually a person? How did he wind up a dog? You know better than to use magic for personal gain."
"I didn't do it," Casey defended herself. "Kip did. Then he and Jess thrust the little monster onto me. Which, is why he was here in the first place. I didn't know what else to do with him."
Piper let out a breath, putting her hands on her hips. "Okay, well, first of all, we need to round him up and get that bone back. We'll figure out how to turn him back into a real boy after that."
"Can't. Kip made it so the spell has to run its course."
Chris rolled his eyes, muttering, "Great. Just great."
"Anyone want the good news?" Wyatt asked. When he managed to receive everyone's attention, "The dog can't leave the manor. So, it's not like he got far. Chances are he just went in some little nook to chew on the bone."
"Great, so not only have we vandalized a grave, we're letting a dog chew on some dead man's rib. Our whole family is going to hell," Piper moaned.
"Wyatt," Casey started, "couldn't you just call for the bone? Orb it to you? If it's still in the house it must easily be in your range, right?"
"I would think so. Okay– rib bone."
With a satisfying swirl of lights, the purloined rib appeared in the Twice Blessed's outstretched hands. He smiled, more than a little pleased with himself. Until he noticed the slimy saliva now on the palm of his hand. He shook off the excess dribble, pulling a face. "So disgusting."
Chris yanked the bone from his brother's grasp, immediately moving over to the Book of Shadows, where they'd left the page open to the summoning spell. Taking a cursory look at the needed ingredients, the young man moved over to the potion table, grabbing the silver mortar and quickly throwing together a pinch of rosemary, a sprig of cypress, and a yarrow root. While grinding together these ingredients with the pestle, Chris chanted, "Powers of the witches rise, course unseen across the skies. Come to us who call you near. Come to us and settle here."
He then put the bone into the mixture and finished the spell. "Bone to bone I summon thee. Bone to bone return to me."
In a swirl of golden lights, a new corpse, one smaller than the skeleton from the cemetery, appeared in the middle of the attic. The foul smell from the decomposition of human flesh forced all present to plug their noses, waving at the air in front of them as though it might help.
Chris moved to grab the salt from the potion ingredients stashed on the cabinet shelf. Dousing the skeleton with the purifying agent, he then turned to Wyatt. "Do your thing all powerful one."
With a mere blink of his eyes, the Twice Blessed sent the skeletal frame bursting into flames, controlling each ember with precision to make sure only the bones were lit and not the family home. After a moment, ashes were all that remained of one Marshal Bannon.
"Blessed Be," Wyatt murmured as the last ember faded.
"Blessed Be," his parents and Casey both repeated.
Chris stared at the pile of dust on the floor, his eyes unnaturally dark as they focused in on the remains of the thing responsible for killing the woman he loved. "May those not be the only flames you feel, you son of a bitch."
Then, he orbed away.
Casey turned to give Wyatt a worried look which was more than reciprocated by both he and his parents.
000
Milash, laying on his stomach on the soft bed of the apartment Zayel had for them, was completely absorbed in the tale being unraveled on the television screen. In these late night hours, he always felt fortunate the t.v. programmers felt it necessary to show the afternoon soap operas a second time. He just loved the drama.
Would Kendall ever forgive her son Spike for choosing his new girlfriend over his own mother? Was Emma going to break up with Adam once and for all? And what about the big fire at the Pine Valley hospital? What was going to happen next?
"Oh, come on," the Vetala whined. "He cheated on you. There's no forgiveness for that girlfriend. Dump him. Dump him hard. Break his heart into a million pieces like he did yours. Oh, yeah. Tell him. Take that, Adam. Ha."
A sharp pain shot through Milash's chest, burning like a bad case of acid reflux. He rubbed the afflicted area, wincing at the acuteness of the pain. For a moment, the gesture seemed to help, but then, the small spark of pain erupted into an inferno.
His whole body felt like it was being burned alive. Every nerve in his host body was screaming, pulsing in pain.
Without seeing another option, Milash abandoned his host, watching as the body slumped over lifeless on the bed without his essence to keep it moving. Unfortunately, dumping the meat suit had no affect on the pain. The Vetala's agony wasn't coming from the corpse he'd been using; it was coming from inside his own spirit.
Come on, Bethy, you can do it. It was his own voice, just from a time very long ago. One he didn't remember being part of until this very moment.
A little blonde girl of no more than four was giggling happily, chasing after her big brother, her long ponytail bouncing behind her as she followed his challenges with glee. Her little feet were pounding on the grass as she scampered after her hero, trying desperately to catch him.
The young man slowed his jog, allowing his sister to catch up and pounce on him, knocking them both to the soft grass. Her laughter rang through the summer air as she bounced excitedly from atop her big brother. "Caught you, Marsh," she giggled. "Oh, yeah?" the teenager challenged, tickling her, causing her to squeal. A scream interrupted the happy moment. Marshal looked over to the house as a crash followed. He lifted his little sister up, setting her on her feet. "Go hide in our secret spot, Bethy." "Where you going?" "Just go," he ordered, running back up to the house. As he tore through the back door, he found himself sliding, nearly crashing into the table. When he looked down to see the cause of his near fall, the sight made his stomach churn. Deep crimson stained the linoleum.
His mother lifeless on the livingroom floor, a large hole in her chest.
His father, his head beaten in with the poker from the fireplace. Little Bethy. . .
"Hello, Marshal. I have special plans for you." Zayel. Zayel had killed them. He had murdered his whole family. Murdered Marshal himself. Then, he'd hidden Marshal's body to make sure no one found it, ensuring the angry spirit would never be put to rest. He made sure the angry, heart broken spirit of a teenage boy would turn into an ugly monster, who's only desire was to feed on others, to cause the same pain he felt. Zayel had even taken it one step further. He's used his power to drive Marshal slightly insane– enough so he couldn't remember his own past.
No more. Zayel would never use him again. Someone had set him free from the monster's control.Marshal was free to do as he pleased, to move on if he wished. He would someday. But first, he had to make amends for the terrible things Zayel had forced him to do. And to punish Zayel for what he'd stolen from Marshal.
Bethy kissed his nose. "Love you, Marsh."
He had unfinished business to take care of.
tbc. . .