Random one-shot piece from Phoebe's point of view about Cole. Keep in mind none of the characters belong to me. Enjoy! Please let me know what you think! Constructive criticism is welcomed.
Sometimes at night, when I am awake, I crease my pillow, to make it seem that he is beside me. My sisters think I have forgotten. Leo thinks I have forgotten. Chris does not claim to know him. Anyone I date does not know much about him, other than once, a long time ago, he placed a wedding ring on my hand.
But I have not.
I walk around aimlessly at night, wandering around the living room, the kitchen, haunted by the memories of his voice, his smile. Haunted by what I have done. What I have lost.
When I met him, I knew that I loved him. When he spoke to me, I was captivated by him. When I learned his true identity, it was devastating. But when he saved me, I knew he was the one to keep.
Cole was protective of me, sometimes too protective. It was his downfall. He felt that he had to carry most of his burden. Sometimes I wonder what if I had persuaded him, forced him to tell me the truth? What if I had shown him I didn't need to be protected all the time? Would things have changed? Or would he have died sooner when the Source hurled his fireball at me?
I know it wasn't me who killed him, but it was me who pushed him away. Why did I do it? In part, because I could not risk harming my family. In part, because I knew that if I did not push him away, I could not move on.
But when he finally did die, I thought that I could go on. I did at first. It was a relief knowing that he couldn't harm anyone else.
But then, on a night like this one, I awoke. And my heart beat so fast. I ran to the window and I saw a figure walking along the sidewalk. I instinctively called out and for a moment, I thought it was him. But the figure kept walking until he disappeared into the fog. I grabbed a coat and walked out the door. I ran circles around the neighborhood under the brightly lit full moon. I searched and searched until fatigue threatened to overcome me. I fell then to the ground and sobbed. He would never come back.
The next morning, I ransacked my room for his pictures. I destroyed many of them initially to try to lessen the pain of his death. But I did not have the courage to burn them all. I found two.
He is smiling in one. He looks so happy. His dark hair is impeccable and he leans against a tree, casually. He has tossed a long overcoat over one shoulder. His blue eyes capture you, hold him to you. He asks you to trust him.
The other one is of us. I am looking up at him and he peers down. I don't recall who took that portrait but it reflects the love we shared.
When the Oracle told me of the child I was going to have, I thought of Cole. The children we might have had. The child who had been snatched away and died at the hands of the most evil of creatures.
Does he think ill of me? I could not bear it if he did. Can he forget me? I pray never. Forgive me, for I knew not what I did. Cole in many ways was my ultimate strength and yet my ultimate weakness. He urged me to fight the good fight, to never give up. But in other ways, let me become evil.
I would be a fool if I said I hated him. I would be a fool if I went along my life's path without remembering him. Whoever I may meet, whomever I may marry...there will be a day when I will die. When it comes, I will return to belong to the man who was, has been, and will be the love of my life, my soul mate. I will return to Cole's arms and rest there. For there is the ultimate peace.