PERHAPS
(New Story Cole/Phoebe)
I have written this as a follow up to my story, Regrets (buried somewhere here in the archives, try to read that first)., It is set after Centennial Charmed, but before all the silliness of the Titans and Leo's becoming an Elder. Basically it is set in my very own Land of Denial. Please let me know what you think – many thanks.
PROLOGUE
Phoebe turned around slowly, her heart still racing, and looked expectantly back into her room. There was no one there – the unexplained breeze that had ruffled her curtains was gone,
they were hanging limply at her window. Her momentary optimism also waned, for one exiting moment, she thought that he would be there, behind her, but her room was empty. She felt
her whole life was empty. The finality of losing him was a physical weight on her.
She knew she could no longer hide up here, in her bedroom, the bedroom he had shared with her. She took a deep breath, and went down stairs; to try to take up her life again, empty
though it was. There was work, there were her sisters, and there was Wyatt to love, she told herself. Maybe it would not be so empty. And maybe, when she had mourned sufficiently,
maybe she would meet someone else. She knew that there was no future with Jason now – he had been a rebound thing, good looking and fun to be with but that was all.
Cole had been her soul mate – and though she had not been able to keep faith with him when it mattered, she knew she would never get over loving him.
Piper was sitting in the conservatory, with Wyatt on her knee, singing softly to her baby.
She looked up at Phoebe, and smiled.
"Look Pheebs, he's trying to clap his hands!" she said proudly. "Isn't he clever."
"Oh yes, clever baby," cooed Phoebe, picking Wyatt up, and twirling around the room, with the giggling baby in her arms. "The cleverest baby in the world," and as she danced with the baby,
her sense of loss grew sharper, just for a second, and she knew it was not only Cole's loss she was going to be mourning.
Cole Turner sat on the highest rock he could find, staring out at the unfriendly landscape; the red sky was hot and streaked here and there with poisonous orange and harsh yellow lights,
the dirt and dust was also red and orange, the rocks were brown and red in color, he was surrounded by shades of red, brown and orange. He stared at nothing in particular, he had been
sitting on this rock for a long time, longer than he could remember, he had lost the feeling in his left leg, and now his lower back was starting to go numb as well.
He had been in the flames for a long time, flames that had seared his body, engulfed him totally, but spat him out, without any outward sign of burning.
He was amazed that he could still actually feel physical pain, in some dark corner of his mind he sensed that his body was on the point of shutting down, he had ignored all warning
messages his brain was sending him, he hadn't eaten or drunk anything for a very long time, hadn't slept or done any thing else for a very long time. He knew that time passed very
differently here in the Wasteland, he had been here before, and escaped – perhaps he could even escape this time – but he didn't care, wasn't even willing to try. Images of his past kept
flashing into his mind – snippets of a time long gone – tempting him, calling him, tantalizing him, but he was resolute in ignoring everything. There was no future for him, so the past was just
that – past. He would not go back, he could not face going back to fail again. He would sit on this rock till he dropped dead – or the beast found and devoured him.