Benjamin's expression saddened; he lowered his eyes to his hands, staring at them for a while before finally raising his head to face Cole again.

"I don't know if the Source planned it all along, son, or if he just had the perfect timing, and knew exactly when to lay his clutches on your mother again."

He hesitated, feeling his heart wrench as dark memories flooded him, and wishing he could spare his son from the knowledge of how terribly wrong things had actually gone. But Benjamin had a feeling that Cole already knew most of it, even if the memories had been pushed to some dark corner of his mind. Now it was time for those memories to be finally brought to the light and forced to show their ugly faces. Only then could they be exorcised for good and his family would have a chance to move on. Still, he couldn't resist the temptation to prolong their reprieve a little longer as he talked about the blissful years that had preceded his death.

"After you were born, your mother's powers went back to normal; that was a great relief for both of us, considering I was still a witch, even without the Elders' approval, and innocents still crossed my way every now and then. What's more, the realization of how hopeless she'd have been without Miss McLeod's coaching, combined with the fact that now she had a newborn baby to love and care, did wonders to your mother's temper."

He couldn't help but smile a little as he added:

"And, consequently, to the china. There was, hum, a lot of plate throwing during the first year of our marriage."

Benjamin shrugged at their flabbergasted faces.

"Well," he reasoned, "Erzsebet had an excellent aim, so I take the fact that she never actually hit me as a sign that she just needed an outlet while adjusting to the rules of civilized human society."

"Anyway," he proceeded, turning to Cole again, "with Miss McLeod's help, I dare to say that your first three years were spent in a healthy -- even if a little eccentric -- environment."

"Did I know what I was? What we were?" Cole asked. He knew perfectly well that he and his father were avoiding the subject that they both feared, and he had no problem with that, none at all.

"No, you didn't: your powers were bound when you were born. Although in my family it wasn't common practice to bind children's powers, your mother and I agreed that in your case it'd be wiser to wait until you were old enough to understand the peculiarities of your ancestry."

And very peculiar it was indeed. Benjamin smiled as the thought crossed his mind.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Benjamin was intrigued when he saw that the lights on the first floor were off. It was almost dinner time: usually, when he arrived home from work his wife and his son came to welcome him back at the door. It had been raining cats and dogs for the entire afternoon; they couldn't have left for a walk. He frowned and walked warily towards the kitchen, the only visible source of light.

There, he found only Annabel McLeod, who turned away from the lamb chops she had been preparing for dinner and said, placing her hands on her hips:

"I tried to stop her, Mr. Turner. But did she listen to me? No! It's a shame to waste such a wonderful rain, she says. My kind doesn't get colds, she says. And yes, I admit that I have never seen the lady get sick, not even once in these three years but, frankly..." -- she waved her head and joined a very amazed Benjamin as he looked through the kitchen's window to see mother and son in the backyard, having the time of their lives, laughing and screaming and playing in the pouring rain.

As Benjamin glanced at the woman by his side, he saw that she was smiling, too, despite her reproachful words. His heart nearly stopped, though, as she said, still watching Erzsebet and Cole:

"You know she's not human, don't you?"

"Ah... hum?" was all he managed to utter.

Fortunately, she still had her eyes on the scene before them, unaware of the shocked look in his eyes as she proceeded:

"You married a sylph, Mr. Turner. Beautiful and wild, like a force of nature. The lady is lucky that she married you among all men: any other man would have tried to tame her, and that would have either pushed her away or crushed her spirit."

Benjamin had already managed to regain his wits when Miss McLeod turned to him again, with a smile on the round, freckled face framed by grizzled hair.

"But you let her be, and she's happy: anyone can see that. Mrs. Turner never talks about her past, but I don't think she had ever been happy before she met you."

Before Benjamin could answer to that surprisingly insightful remark, the door was opened, and Erzsebet burst in, with Cole in her arms. They were both soaking wet, but looked as happy as one could possibly be.

"Good evening, Counselor Turner," she said, walking towards him and going on tiptoes to kiss him. "How was your day?"

Miss McLeod eyed the trail of rainwater she was leaving behind her, and Erzsebet added, carelessly:

"Oh, that's just water, I'll dry it off later."

"Daddy, I saw the thunder and I heard the lightning," Cole broke in, proudly, while Erzsebet snuggled in Benjamin's arms, oblivious to the fact that she was soaking his brand new suit.

"You saw the thunder, huh? Well, then you're the first creature to have ever achieved such a deed," Benjamin said, chuckling. He kissed his son and his wife affectionately, and circled Erzsebet's waist with his arm, looking at Miss McLeod over her head and saying:

"I'll take these two savages upstairs and make sure they look presentable for dinner. And don't worry about the water, we'll take care of it later."

He took Cole from Erzsebet's arms and together they walked out of the kitchen, with the boy happily chattering about the differences between bath water and rainwater.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Benjamin unwillingly forced himself to come back to the present, wishing he had time to share some of those happy memories with his son, but knowing that it would have to wait.

"But eventually the Source got tired of waiting," he said. "He finally understood that your mother had indeed switched sides, and that she had every intention of staying good. Ironically enough," he remarked, with a humorless smile, "it took him less time to accept that than it did the Elders."

He paused, considering what to say next, and looking very tired and very sad.

"I was running for Congress then: your mother and I had been talking about leaving San Francisco, and I figured that would be the perfect opportunity to do that with no loss to my political career."

He looked down and his voice was hoarse as he proceeded:

"Not a day has passed during all these years that I haven't wished I had just took you and your mother and left without looking back."

"But I didn't," he sighed. "I was considered too young to be a congressman, but I managed to convince the party to nominate me. At least that's what I thought then," he added, bitterly. "Looking back now, I wonder if the Source didn't have more to do with my nomination than my eloquence did, as it turned out that it fit his interests perfectly."

He paused again, as if the memories were too painful to be remembered.

"I was spending long periods away from home; and when I was home, I'm afraid I was too tired and too immersed in my own musings to see what was happening. Sure, I noticed how your mother was often tense and irritable, but in my own tiredness I just blamed it on the fact that she spent most of her time at home, with no one to talk to but an old lady who had the best intentions but knew nothing about her pretty unusual background, and taking care of an extremely active three-year-old. Back then, a woman wouldn't go to the theater or to the opera all by herself, and making visits and doing small talk didn't thrill your mother. The things that interested other wives -- fashion, gossip, homemaking -- had little or no interest for her. And she..." -- he hesitated, apparently considering what to say next, then waved his head, as if dismissing an idea -- "She had bad memories of San Francisco, and couldn't wait to leave the city. So I just assumed that she was tired and frustrated, and that once the elections were over things would get back to normal."

Benjamin leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees; he closed his eyes and ran his hand across his face.

"Your mother never lied to me," he said, giving Cole a pained look. "She always said she wouldn't be able to make it alone, and I promised her I'd be by her side on every step of the way."

He sustained Cole's look with obvious effort as he finished:

"But I failed her when she needed me most."

"What happened, dad?" Cole asked, in a tiny voice.

"The Source had one of his most powerful sorcerers working day and night to bring the evil inside her back to surface. Because, you see, she did have evil inside her, and she fought it every goddamned day. And she kept fighting it, even with the spell working on her, weakening her will and poisoning her soul. But it's like..." -- he searched for the right words to make them understand -- "like giving liquor to a recovering alcoholic: once there's alcohol in their system, it's..."

"Like the breaking of a dam," Paige said, quietly.

At first, Benjamin just gave her a surprised look. Then, as comprehension sank in, he blushed and said:

"I'm awfully sorry! I never meant to..."

"That's okay," she said, softly. "What I meant is, I know what it's like. You're right. Refusing the first doses is hard enough. Refusing the second one is almost impossible. After you've had a few ones... it's just unstoppable."

"Thank you," Benjamin uttered.

He stared at his feet for a while, as if gathering the strength to proceed.

"I don't know exactly how it happened," he said, sounding like every word hurt. "I got home and you weren't there. Then I went to the kitchen, and that's where I found Miss McLeod."

"Was she dead?" Cole asked, tensely, needing to know, yet dreading the answer.

"No, she was still alive when I found her," Benjamin said. "But she was lying on the kitchen's floor, drenched in blood. I couldn't stop the bleeding, so I did the only thing I could think of: I called Sam and, God bless him, he came, even though I wasn't one of his charges any more."

"So, he healed her? Mother didn't kill her?"

"Your mother never raised her hand against her, son," Benjamin explained. "Miss McLeod herself told me so, after Sam healed her. She was frightened and weakened, of course, and I didn't have time to wait for her to fully recover, but she told me that it had been a stranger who stabbed her, and of how he had pushed the knife into your mother's hand and urged her to finish the job. But she didn't; she just stood there, looking from Miss McLeod to her attacker, then dropped the knife and scooted out of the kitchen. And I know that it wasn't the rightest thing to do, to leave Miss McLeod there, bleeding to death, but I don't think that right then she trusted herself next to a knife and all that blood."

"N-no," Cole said, shivering. "Of course not. It's... She would've killed her, had she stayed there."

He remembered that night in the attic, with Jenna lying helpless at his feet, and Raynor by his side, inciting him, each word feeding the fire that burnt inside him. His human half had failed to suppress his demon half then, and his mother didn't even have a human half. He could just picture her, standing there, watching life be slowly drawn from the other woman's body, scenting the acrid smell of blood, while every fiber of her being screamed, Kill her! Kill the human! Slash the bitch!

Phoebe had her arms around him, and she could feel him shaking badly as he proceeded:

"She had blood on her hands, and this wild look in her eyes..."

Cole's expression was just as tortured as his father's as the memories started to surface in a horrible torrent.

"She said we had to leave. I couldn't walk as fast as she did, so she scooped me up, and... I don't know where we went through; it was getting dark, and there were trees..."

"The Golden Gate Park," Benjamin said. "I left Miss McLeod with Sam and went looking for you two. Sam begged me to wait, but I didn't listen to him. I couldn't... I had to find you. I don't know what make me go straight to the Park, but it was only a couple of blocks away, and I caught up with the two of you there. I managed to get your mother to stop and listen to me. I talked her into letting me take you from her arms, and for a moment I actually thought I'd manage to take you both back home... only when her eyes started to glow red did I realize that something was deadly wrong, much more than I had first figured out. But then... it was too late."

Cole just nodded, unable to speak, as the tears streamed down his face.

"But of course you know that," Benjamin said, wiping the tears from his own face. "I shouldn't be making you relive it."

Cole waved his head and took a deep breath, trying to control his voice:

"No, it's just... I, I never had the chance to mourn you. A-and..."

He choked and Benjamin took him in his arms again, holding him tight and feeling his heart break with every silent sob that shook his son's body. Phoebe looked at them, wishing there was something she could do, but she felt that that moment and that pain belonged to them only. Turning to Piper, she saw that her big sister had tears in her eyes, too, and Leo's brow was furrowed as he pressed his face to hers, to comfort her. Paige had her eyes down, seemingly very busy checking up on Ben, and Phoebe wiped away the tears from her own face as she turned to Benjamin and Cole again.

The minutes passed and Cole's sobs diminished until he was still in his father's arms. Benjamin pulled away slightly, and gently wiped the tears from his son's face. He looked straight into Cole's eyes and begged:

"Don't blame her, son. Please. She wasn't herself that night. Blame it on me if you will, for not having noticed it in time, for not having helped her."

"I bet he enjoyed it," Cole said, with a fierce look in his eyes. "I bet the sadistic son of a bitch enjoyed every moment of it."

He could feel the tears running down his face again, and hid his face in his hands, with his elbows resting on his knees. As Benjamin rested his hand on his shoulder, Cole said, without raising his head:

"He's gone."

"Who's gone?" Benjamin asked, confused.

"The Source. He was vanquished about one year and a half ago."

Benjamin stood silent for a while, then he asked:

"Was it painful?"

"You bet," Cole answered, grimacing.

"Good." -- Benjamin's voice held an unusually hard note and his eyes had a steely glint.

He stood like that for a while, his hand still resting on his son's shoulder. Finally, he turned to Leo and asked, in a very tired voice:

"How much time do we have left?"

"How much time do you need?" Leo asked in response. He had the nauseated look the others had gotten used to seeing on his face during the last seven months.

"I don't think you..." Benjamin started, but Leo held up his hand.

"Please," said the Whitelighter. "Take your time. I mean it: I could have orbed up there earlier, but I, too, wanted to hear your story."

"What do you mean?" Cole asked, looking from Leo to his father. "Are the Elders calling? Why would they be calling you, dad?"

"Well, I was gone for quite a long time," Benjamin reasoned. "They certainly want to talk to me."

"They're not going to do anything to you, are they?" Cole asked, apprehensively.

"Well, I'm sure there'll be a lot of lecturing -- probably some scolding, too -- considering the way I sneaked out and everything but, honestly, after spending more than a century locked in, I think even the Elders will agree that it was more than enough of a punishment for..." -- he noticed Cole's surprised look -- "Oh, you don't know how I got imprisoned, either, do you?"

"No."

Benjamin cast another hesitant look towards Leo, and this one said, firmly:

"Tell him." Seeing Benjamin's hesitation, he added: "If I just can't stand it any more, I'll orb up there and tell them that you need more time."

Leo grimaced and turned to Piper then, asking:

"Honey, we don't by any chance have ice cream here, do we?"

"I'm sorry, honey, no. Are you feeling sick?"

"A little. Fighting their summoning used to give me headaches, but lately it has started to make me sick -- like pretty much everything else."

Benjamin gave him a puzzled look and Leo added, dismissing it with a wave of his hand:

"Complicated story. You'd better finish yours first."

Benjamin hesitated briefly, then proceeded, after giving Leo one last curious look:

"I wasn't imprisoned by evil right away. After my death, my soul crossed to the other side, and although I desperately wanted to see your mother and you, I couldn't reach you in the Underworld. Time doesn't really count in the afterlife -- at least not in the way it counts here -- so I'm not sure of how long it took, but I believe it had been two years from the day I died to when your mother summoned me..."

"Whoa!" Cole said, interrupting him. The others looked just as surprised as he was when he said: "Summoned you? Mother could summon the dead??"

"Oh well, maybe summon isn't the right word. Demons can't summon innocents' souls, thank God for that. But she had seen me do that a few times, and by repeating the words and the ritual she was able to reach me. Maybe because I wanted so badly to be reached, maybe because we were connected through you. Of course, she couldn't do it from the Underworld, but once she surfaced I could hear her."

Cole felt his heart sink as he asked:

"Did mother have anything to do with your imprisoning?"

"No," Benjamin said, firmly. "Only the fact that I was with her when it happened. But she didn't set me up: she only called me to ask for my help."

"Your help?"

Benjamin took a deep breath, wondering how to explain that. He knew that what he was about to say would be a shock to his son, and he didn't want him to take it the wrong way.