Okay, so this chapter is a bit weird, but it's super super long, so hopefully, that makes up for some of the weirdness...Oh, lyrics at the end are from Madonna's song The Power of Goodbye.
CHAPTER 26
The Power of Goodbye
"Funeral is today."
"You're kidding, right?"
Molly shook her head, plopping down on the sofa. "No. After all, how many chances does a person really get to see their own funeral?"
"Sick. Sick and twisted."
"Wouldn't you be curious?"
"More like disturbed by the fact it was possible."
The whitelighter raised her head to look over her charge's shoulder and into the large bowl he had in front of him. It was her turn to raise a brow. "So, what attempt would this one be?"
"Sixty-eight," he answered, sprinkling in the extract.
He held his breath as the last ingredient danced across the surface of the potion before melding with the concoction completely. Once this happened, Lucas was able to release the breath he'd been holding in. It had taken him days and almost seventy different attempts to manage it, but he'd just successfully made the love potion destined to save his life.
"You know, Lucas, I don't know why the love potion is even necessary at this point. The Vetala was taken care of, right?"
"Yeah, but he's still acting like he's evil. I don't know why. It's like he's waiting for something. In any case, he's still following through with Zayel's orders, just taking his sweet time doing it. Last time I checked up on them, the minion purposefully dropped the vial of their potion.It's like he's trying to buy time. Just not sure for what."
"Interesting. So, you think he'll eventually go through with it?"
"Zayel took up the project himself. The Vetala doesn't have anything to do with it at this point. So, Zayel's potion will probably be done anytime now, which means I need to hurry up, bottle this and get over to the manor ASAP."
"You know, there's probably a reason it took you so many, many attempts to get the potion right. Like maybe the Powers that Be are trying to tell you something. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't meant to be."
"No. No way. You can't mean that. I am meant to be. Howcan you think otherwise, Molly?" Lucky argued, clearly a little hurt by her comment.
Molly moved to put a hand on his upper arm, letting her gentle hazel eyes stare into his steely green in an attempt to convey just how wrong his assumption was. Her eyes shone with a love so powerful a bond of blood could not even strengthen it. "Lucas Perry Halliwell, I have loved you since the day you were born. You may not be my son biologically, but you know I would die for you as quickly as your own mother– may she rest in peace. Now, don't you dare let a thought slip into that head of yours to the contrary. I never wanted to imply you weren't meant to be. I was referring to the potion. Understand?"
The shaggy haired teen nodded, his eyes slipping to the floor.
"I only thought forcing your parents into it might not be the best route. Your conception should be done through the mutual love and respect of your parents. Not a potion."
"If Zayel uses his potion, I might not exist. I think I'd rather fight fire with fire and say to hell with mutual love and respect."
"Language."
"Sorry. Say to heck with, then. Doesn't change my point, which is I'd prefer to exist than not."
Molly brushed his jagged bangs from his eyes with a motherly tenderness. "Okay. I understand. You need to do what you need to do."
"Thank you."
"Just make sure you're back in time for my funeral."
"You're really planning on going through with it?"
The whitelighter gave a little shrug. "What can I say? I'm too curious to pass it up."
"Curiosity killed the cat."
"Satisfaction brought him back," Molly shot back with a grin. "Now, go do your thing. I'll wait for you here then we'll head over to the church together."
"Why do I have to go?"
"I don't want to sit at my funeral alone. How depressing."
Lucas rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'll see you in a few minutes."
The youth, potion bottled and ready in his hand, went up in a brilliant shower of blue and white lights, re-materializing invisible inside the kitchen of Halliwell Manor. He nearly gasped in surprise when he found his mother standing only a few feet away from him. He hadn't thought to sense for anyone before he orbed. It was lucky he hadn't crashed right into her. Still, being so close to her was bad enough.
He took a couple of steps back, watching her face carefully to see if she'd felt anything unusual, maybe sensed his presence. Her deep brown eyes were dull, signaling her thoughts were keeping her trapped in her own little world. She probably wouldn't have noticed him if he were visible, as deep in concentration as she appeared to be.
"Morning, Casey," Wyatt greeted, stepping into the kitchen dressed in black slacks and a silky black dress shirt. He frowned as he took in the sight of the young woman. "You're not dressed. Why aren't you dressed? The funeral is only an hour away, and with traffic the way it is we need to go soon."
Lucas winced, sure that at any moment the all powerful Twice Blessed would sense his presence and reveal him to all the world. He opened his eyes, which he had squeezed shut in panic. Wyatt was staring at his mother. Apparently, he was too focused on her to notice the visitor from the future standing over by the kitchen table.
Biting her lower lip in the way Lucas remembered meant she was troubled, Casey finally looked up into the Twice Blessed's eyes. "I'm not going."
"What? What do you mean?"
Casey turned her back to the young man, busying herself with pouring a cup of coffee into a red mug she pulled down from the cupboard. Once it was full of liquid caffeine, she mixed it with cream and sugar. As she stirred the creamy brown liquid with a spoon she'd pulled from the drawer, she tried to sound nonchalant. "Chris doesn't want me there."
"Chris doesn't...?" Wyatt blinked, wondering for a moment if he'd heard correctly. After a brief pause to collect his shaken thoughts, he asked, "He said so?"
"Didn't have to," the other witch answered, dropping the spoon onto the counter with a clang.
Lucas eyed the mug then glanced at the potion vial in his hand. It could work. . .
"Oh, so you're just assuming, then? Good. For a minute I thought my brother had lost his mind."
"What are you talking about?"
"You've been his best friend since you both were barely talking. You know him better than anyone– except me, of course– you have always been a good and loyal friend to him, and more importantly, you love him. He needs all that today. He needs you to sit by him in that pew while he watches the world say goodbye to the girl he gave his heart to."
Casey, clasping the mug tightly in both hands, let out a shaky breath. "I want to. I want to be that for him today. It's just. . .he hasn't said one word to me since I kissed him. He's been avoiding me like I was the carrier of some plague. In fact, he won't even look at me."
"Have you tried to talk to him about it?"
The young woman quickly took a sip from her steaming mug. "Mmm, have I told you how good the coffee is this morning?"
"I guess that means no."
The Twice Blessed gently pulled the mug from her hands, setting it down on the counter next to where his mother's white one was resting. He then took his friend's hands in his, while forcing her to look him in the eyes. "Case, I know my brother can be a stubborn idiot when he wants to be. So, even if he is avoiding you, don't let him. He needs you to help him through this. He acts tough, but we both know how he really feels– hurt, alone, angry. Watching them bury Molly's body today is going to kill him. So, he needs both of us by his side, whether he'll admit to it or not."
Casey nodded her head, smiling softly. "Okay. I guess I'll go change. Good thing I have the black dress from the last funeral, huh?"
"Again with the debased humor?"
"Sorry."
The young woman moved to her tiptoes, kissing the young man lightly on the cheek. "Thanks for the pep talk."
"Anytime."
As Casey scurried from the kitchen, Lucas felt the panic rising again, waiting for the Twice Blessed to finally sense his presence and expose him or worse try to vanquish him. Luckily, a call from his brother distracted the future King Arthur, who promptly orbed from the kitchen to check up on his sibling.
Lucky moved from the table over to the counter. Unfortunately, when he reached the counter, he realized he didn't remember which mug his mother had been holding in her hand. Was it red or white? He hadn't really paid too much attention to color. He had just been hoping Wyatt would leave.
Hearing someone coming, Lucas made a snap decision to put half the potion into the white mug, saving the other half for his father's dosing. If he remembered correctly, his mom didn't like red, so white it was. Dumping in the clear potion, he then ducked away from the counter just in time to see his grandmother scurry into the kitchen.
To Lucas' utter horror, she immediately moved to grab the white mug, taking a healthy drink from it while walking back out of the kitchen, calling for Leo as she went.
"Oh, no. Oh, no no no." Lucas pulled at his hair. "Shit. Instead of putting mom in the mood, I probably got grandpa laid. Eeeeeew."
000
Zayel shimmered into the girl's bedroom, potion in hand, ready to change the course of history. Unfortunately, despite all his planning and scheming to create the perfect moment to put his plan into motion, he had neglected to take into account one tiny detail: Sam.
Upon materializing, the demon found himself at the mercy of a tiny brown fur ball with teeth which dug deep into his leg.
Casey turned around from the closet, severely startled to find her ex-boyfriend chewing on thin air– which clearly wasn't as thin as it appeared. She flicked out her hands, trying to freeze the invisible entity and her personal guard dog, but as was par for the course lately, her powers weren't cooperating, which was clear from the way Sam kept snarling. "Wyatt, Chris," she bellowed, backing up into the closet.
Zayel ripped the ferocious pup from his leg tossing him at the nearest wall.
Horrified, the witch in the room panicked, her hands shooting out toward the flying animal, who immediately stopped in mid-air, safe from impact with the wall.
Two sets of orb lights appeared a moment later, taking the shapes of Wyatt and Chris.
Zayel, knowing when to cut his losses, immediately shimmered away from the formidable duo.
Casey ran over to the frozen wiener dog, taking the animal into her arms just as her power wore off. She scratched behind Sam's ears, making his hind leg twitch in happiness. "Gracias a Dios."
Wyatt couldn't sense any evil in the room, but still felt a lingering echo of maliciousness in the air. "Demon was here but definitely took off when we showed up."
"I can't believe this," Chris snapped. "He attacked us today? Today of all days?"
"Demons aren't exactly known for their sensitivity, Chris," Wyatt softly remarked.
Sam's tiny head whipped over to look at the younger witchlighter. He bared his teeth, growling deep in the back of his throat before giving off a few sharp barks in the young man's direction.
"Shut up, Sam," Chris barked back.
Casey moved to set the animal on the floor, making sure he was completely submissive to her will before removing her eyes from him. When his ears went back and he laid down, she turned her attention to Chris. "I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault."
Wyatt glanced down at his wrist, which was bare. "Oh, look at the time. I need to finish getting ready, so I'm just going to– ah– go leave you two kids to, I don't know, talk?"
The Twice Blessed moved to pick up the dachshund, cradling the animal in his big arms as Sam squirmed in protest– at least until Wyatt started massaging the tips of his ears, at which point the doggy eyes became droopy and he snuggled in to the nook of the witch's arm. Once he had the dog calm, he less than gracefully excused himself, closing the bedroom door behind him on his way out.
"Subtle isn't he?" Casey remarked.
"Like a fireball to the chest."
A beat of uneasy silence filled the room. Casey fidgeted on her feet, shoving her hair behind her ears as her eyes turned to look anywhere but at the young man in front of her. In the same space of time, Chris folded his arms over his chest, keeping his eyes locked on his shiny black dress shoes.
Finally, in an explosion of words both asked the other simultaneously, "Why are you avoiding me?" "What's up with us lately?"
"You think I'm avoiding you?" Chris asked, clearly shocked. "I'm not. Looking back on this week, I guess I could see where you might think so, though. After vanquishing the Vetala I just really wanted to be alone. To think and try to deal with everything. I never meant to make you think it was because of you– it had nothing to do with you. I swear."
"I would have deserved it," the young woman softly admitted. "I don't know why I kissed you that night. It was just habit, maybe? Not that it's an excuse. There isn't one. I'm just so sorry I did."
Chris smiled softly, folding his arms over his chest. "I'm kind of not sorry you did. Don't get me wrong, I don't want it to happen again. I'm in love with Molly, and she's out there somewhere, and I have every confidence she'll come back to me, so I plan to wait for her. It's just...I can't regret the kiss. It's you."
Casey blushed, biting her bottom lip and turning her eyes away.
"Even though I'm not in love with you anymore, I do still love you a lot. We have a lifetimes worth of history all the way from learning to walk to the first time we slept together. That kiss had all the history and all the feelings. It made me remember there are people still in my life who love me and who I love. So, in a way, it was a good thing to do."
"Just not ever again," his friend added quietly.
"I'm sorry," Chris stated, looking uncharacteristically helpless. "I hate being the one hurting you. I'd rather rip out my own than break your heart."
"I know."
The witchlighter moved to wrap his friend in his arms. He sweetly kissed the top of her head as she nestled it against his chest. Closing his eyes, he took in the subtle smell of her mango conditioner. He smiled softly. He had always loved the sweet aroma of her hair.
Chris had always loved running his hands through the ultra silky tresses as well. It was partly for this reason he ran a hand over the waterfall of hair falling onto her back as a gesture to comfort her. It was something he had done many times before in the course of their friendship. Perhaps, the ritual is why the gesture inadvertently soothed him as well.
Swallowing down his pride, the young man managed to admit, "I don't think I can do this today. . .see her like that."
Casey lifted her head to focus on his shimmering eyes. "Wyatt and I will be with you the whole time. We'll help you get through today. I promise."
He nodded his head, licking his lips as he tried to keep a lid on his tempestuous emotions. "How did you do it?"
"My dad's funeral?"
He nodded.
Casey's eyes dropped to the floor, images of her father torn to shreds in the morgue crashing into the center of her mind's eye. It was replaced by her mother wearing a short black dress and a matching hat with a small black blusher attached to it. The woman was sobbing as she yelled, 'This is all because of magic. You people bring death wherever you go. Just stay away. Don't you dare set one foot in that church today. You're not welcome in the house of God. "I didn't go."
"You didn't go? What do you mean you didn't go?"
The young woman's eyes flicked up to her friend's face. Pain of an unspeakable nature clouded the coffee colored orbs. "I wasn't welcome."
"What? You mean your mom? Oh my god...I can't believe...I mean she's always been a bitch, but to deny you your last goodbye? I could wring her neck."
The conversation didn't go any further as Wyatt poked his head into the room, smiling anxiously. "So...I hate to interrupt, but time is up. We actually have to go. You guys cool, though?"
"More than," Chris answered.
Wyatt looked over to the young woman in the room for confirmation. He was rewarded with a little nod and half smile. Her focus was far away, though, and something dark lurked underneath the surface. Either Chris was blind to some unresolved issue between them, or Casey's pain didn't have to do with him. The Twice Blessed couldn't tell.
In any case, the three friends headed out of the room and down the stairs. They were surprised not to find Leo and Piper both waiting for them in the foyer. In fact, neither adult was anywhere in sight. As far as the teenagers could tell, they weren't anywhere downstairs.
"Mom, Dad?" Chris called up the stairs. "We need to go."
A few moments later, Piper appeared, glowing with a large smile on her face. Her expression only became somber as she reached the bottom of the stairs and her gaze fell on her youngest son's face. At which point any glee previously visible in her disappeared. She put a hand on her son's shoulder. With no words, she conveyed the deepest of sympathies. Then, she continued on her way, snatching her keys from the table in the entry and moving for the door calling back, "Okay, everyone, let's go. We don't want to be late."
Wyatt turned to Casey, whispering, "Did my mother just have an after sex glow?"
Stifling a small giggle, "I think so."
Chris turned to look back at the others. "What was that?"
They both shook their heads, shrugging. Both knew the other teen would be unable to see the humor in the situation today.
Leo came hurrying down the stairs a moment later, finishing up with his tie as he reached the bottom landing. He noticed the knowing and slightly reproachful looks on both Casey and Wyatt's faces and turned deep red, muttering, "Well, come on guys. Don't just stand there, get out to the car."
Chris frowned as his father nigh on ran from the house past the other two kids who were both looking anywhere but at him, with their mouths twitching in efforts not to smile. He let out a breath. "They had sex didn't they?"
"They don't do that," Casey remarked with an innocent look on her face.
Wyatt added, "Ever."
Unamused, the younger brother snatched his coat from the closet before storming out of the house.
"I think he bought it," Wyatt commented.
Casey couldn't help but laugh.
000
The church was quaint with only room for a hundred or so people. All of the windows were done in stained glass imagery of the life of Christ from birth to death to resurrection. Rows of pale wood pews with soft red cushioning led up to the front alter where the mahogany casket rested surrounded by a carpeting of potted white lilies.
Molly's mother was up at the front of the church, talking with the pastor. It was clear even from Chris' position at the back of the sanctuary the woman was barely holding it together. The larger woman looked so fragile, practically shaking all over as she struggled to keep her tears at bay.
Piper, standing closely by her son, took a deep breath as she too spotted Ms. Vettle. "There's no describing the pain of a mother who's lost her child. It's so much worse than death."
Wyatt frowned at his mother, noticing the sheen in her eyes and the way his father immediately took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "You almost sound like you would know..."
The mother forced a smile to her face, shaking her head. "No. Of course not."
The Twice Blessed knew she was lying when her eyes immediately shifted to his father's, and the two shared a moment only they could possibly understand. It was something the Twice Blessed would not be forgetting any time soon. Nor was it a matter he planned on letting drop. When the time was right, he would remind his mother of this moment, and he would get a truthful answer.
"I can't go up there," Chris breathed. "I can't."
Casey linked her arm with his. "We'll go together." She rubbed his arm soothingly. "We'll just go up and say goodbye to Molly, and then give our condolences to her mom. It's the right thing to do. You can lean on me and let me be the strong one for a change. Okay?"
Chris nodded.
Wyatt caught sight of them heading toward the casket and followed behind them. He knew his brother would need all the support he could get for this.
The young woman led her friend up the aisle toward the open casket, feeling him tense more and more the closer they got to the front of the church. She knew it was his way of trying to remain in control of his feelings. So, when they reached the casket, she rubbed circles on his back until he let himself relax.
Wyatt noticed the interaction between the other two teenagers, and knew both of them well enough to know just how hard Casey was trying to calm Chris down, while Chris was struggling to keep his emotional barriers unhealthily intact. So, putting a hand on his little brother's shoulder, he softly said, "It's okay not to be strong today, Chris."
With those words and the touch from his big brother, the wall inside the young man broke. He let out one large breath, the next few hitching as he looked down on the body of the woman he loved, trapped inside the wooden resting place. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes and hated it. He squeezed them shut, taking another deep breath to get a grip on his emotions.
Casey took his hand, rubbing her thumb over the back of it with a feathery touch. Once he was back in control, she looked over to Molly's corpse lying peacefully in the white satin covered box. She placed a hand on the edge of the coffin, her own emotions starting to get to her.
However, she had something to say, and was not about to be derailed by sorrow. "Molly, I hate I didn't get but a few brief encounters with you before you were taken from us. However, in that small amount of time, I was able to see what an inspiring person you truly are. You were able to see past your own feelings to help me in a time of need. You were kind to me when you had every right not to be. More importantly, you loved my best friend completely, making him happier than he's ever been. For being so good to him and to me, you took a place in my heart as well, which grieves along with everyone else here today."
Chris smiled softly at the words. "That was nice."
"Really beautiful," Wyatt added.
Neither of them noticed a glamoured Molly getting teary a few feet away, her youthful companion patting her arm while smiling over at Chris and Casey with a proud look in his eyes.
"I almost feel bad for how I treated her when I first returned to the manor as a new whitelighter," Molly softly admitted.
Lucas, also glamoured as to not draw attention to himself, frowned at his guardian. "What do you mean? I thought you and mom were friends?"
The whitelighter laughed nervously. "That came quite a bit later..."
Wyatt cleared his throat before taking his turn with saying goodbye. "Molly, you were a really great friend. You always did anything to make sure other people were happy, always giving your loyalty and love one hundred percent. You were a beautiful person both inside and out, and you will be missed."
The older Molly put her hand to her heart. "For an all powerful being he always has been a complete softy."
Chris shook his head as he gazed down on the unmoving body of his girlfriend. "I can't believe how pale she is...I mean, I know that's how it works, but. . ."
"I know," his friend said.
"I'm not sure what to say," the witchlighter admitted.
Wyatt replied, "Just say what you feel."
The younger boy nodded. Taking a breath, he started, "Molly, I didn't do or say the right things. Now, probably isn't going to be any different. So, I'm just going to say this: I will always love you."
Lucas shook his head. "I feel like a peeper."
Molly, ignoring her charge, remarked, "Just like Chris to be simple, sweet and to the point."
"I think you said the perfect thing," Casey commented to Chris. "It was very you."
The Twice Blessed nodded in agreement.
"Now, I just have to find the right words for her mom," he muttered, realizing how much harder the next part would be for him.
Chris took a deep breath to quiet his nerves before going over to Ms. Vettle. The older woman immediately started crying upon seeing her baby's boyfriend, and pulled the young man into a tight embrace.
"I'm so sorry," Chris murmured.
The mother pulled away, shaking her head. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Sweetie. You made my little girl so happy. She always said Prom was the best night of her life, but every day since then you still treated her like a princess. Her eyes were always so full of joy when she was with you. And I could always see how much you loved her too. At least she got to experience real love before she," the mother got choked up, unable to finish.
"She was the best thing to happen to me," Chris offered, not sure what else to say in these circumstances.
The mother smiled, but the tears kept coming until she was forced to excuse herself to go regroup.
"Chris," a voice from behind said.
Chris turned around to find Bryan, red eyed and shaken. He extended a hand to the other young man, pulling his girlfriend's best friend into a quick hug with a pat on the back. When they parted, the witchlighter gently inquired how the other was holding up.
"I'm a mess," Bryan admitted. "When I found out, I just stood there in complete shock like it was some sort of sick joke, and if only my mom would get to the punch line everything would be okay. Only she didn't. And it's not."
"I know exactly what you mean."
Bryan winced as he caught sight of the body. "I can't believe she's in there. That this is really happening. I pictured us being friends when we were old and wrinkled and in a nursing home playing cards. Death is always unfair, but this? It goes beyond unfair, right? I mean, she never got to live her life. She was just starting to be happy with college and you...especially you. Man, she really loved you."
"I really love– loved– her."
The other youth took a shaky breath. "I should go be with Molly's mom. She was practically my mom too. Maybe I can offer her some comfort."
"I think she'd like that, Bryan."
As Bryan left to find the distraught parent, the minister stepped to the front, arms clasped in front of him, staring out over the funeral attendants like a noble bird watching everything from its lofty perch. As people began to notice him patiently waiting, everyone began to settle into the pews, ready as they possibly could be for the funeral to begin.
Chris sat sandwiched between his brother and his best friend, and as the service began, everything became a blur of meaningless words and the sharp clenching of his heart every time his eyes caught sight of the lifeless woman he loved more than words have the art to describe.
The spell has been broken, I loved you so
Freedom comes when you learn to let go.
Choking down the hopeless feeling drowning him, the witchlighter took hold of Casey's hand, squeezing it tightly, trying to remind himself not to let go of his hope, his faith that all of this meant nothing because Molly would be returned again soon.
Pain is a warning that something's wrong,
I pray to God that it won't be long.
As the minister kept droning about Molly's life, the facts of which everyone in the church already knew, Chris caught sight of Bryan, an arm wrapped around Molly's mother over on the opposite side of the church. Both of their faces were moist with liquid pain. Seeing their sorrow, Chris wished he could shorten their grief by telling them about Molly's fate as a whitelighter, but knew it was impossible.
There's nothing left to try
There's no place left to hide.
People kept looking at him. Kids from school. Relatives of Molly. Random adults Chris had never met before. All of them kept looking at him with the same look– you poor kid, your girlfriend's dead, and we feel sorry for you. Chris wanted nothing more than to turn invisible right then and there to avoid the looks, which only reminded him he had a reason for them to feel sorry for him. Instead, he slouched down further in the pew, closing his eyes and praying for the end, so he could go back to mourning alone.
There's nothing left to lose
There's no more heart to bruise
There's no greater power
Than the power of good-bye.
The minister finished the final prayer before moving to stand behind the coffin. With a solemn, sorrowful nature, he announced, "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust."
Chris watched as the man slowly, deliberately, closed the lid of the coffin. With the symbolic words and action, every last bit of strength Chris had vanished. Hot tears slipped off his lashes to race down his face.
As his big brother saw and gently pulled him to his shoulder, Chris felt his heart break all over again from this powerful goodbye.
tbc. . .