Love, Hate, and Anger
Disclaimer: I own nothing I write, at least, not as it pertains to the show. I do not own the characters or the basic idea, although I own original plot ideas and events and OCs (original characters). I am not plagiarizing, or however you spell it (its spelled weird), because I am not saying it's mine—if anything I am denying that it's mine. However, if you do wish to sue me, fell free to do so. Just remember that if you do, you will be forced to look over your shoulder in fear for the rest of your natural born lives. You have been warned. (00)
Author's Note: I love the show, I love the characters, I hate you. (That depends on who you are, actually…)
Chapter One: The Ambivalent Witch
Phoebe Halliwell was worried. She couldn't stop thinking about her most recent premonition, even as she stood outside, waiting in the winter's harsh cold. The whipping winds threw stinging snow right into her painfully numb, red face, as if lashing out at her continuously. She shivered and shook and dreamed of hot chocolate and a warm bed (not necessarily her own). She wished that she had thought this through and not acted so irrationally. But not even all of this stopped her from taking out that little slip of note paper every five seconds to check and compare the address to the street sign she stood by. But no matter how many times she looked at it, it always read the same.
"Blizzora Avenue."
This is where she stands, at the corner where Blizzora Avenue and Dia Boulevard meet. The result of her last successful scrying. The same place she saw in a premonition. It was where she had seen Cole kill and innocent, right where she stands.
Phoebe is the middle child of the current generation of Halliwell witches. She and her two living sisters are the Charmed Ones, a trio of powerful witches whose duty it is to fight and kill demons, save innocents and keep the balance of good and evil in check. Together they are most powerful, but they kick ass individually as well. However, when working together they are the most powerful fighting force for good on earth, making them an even more desirable target for demons than any other witches on earth.
It comes with being so powerful.
That is why the demon Balthazar, aka Cole Turner, wanted to kill them in the first place. He is—was—a very powerful half demon that used cunning and clever tactics to do what no other has ever been able to do. He got closer to succeeding were so many have failed, much closer than any of the now-dead throngs before him. But he made one fatal mistake, one which ruined his plans and caused him to fail like the rest.
He had fallen in love with the sister he was supposed to seduce.
And he had then (after a lot of other stuff) become the source, turned evil and finally been killed. He has long since been dead, and Phoebe is all the happier for it. But how in heaven's name did she see him in this new, fresh premonition when he has been most certainly dead for so long?
That is the only reason she scryed for him in the first place; to confirm or deny what she saw. She can see the past, the present and the future, and she isn't always sure which is which for some of them. Perhaps the premonition was stale, an old one left over from when he was alive. But she couldn't take that chance—not after all the hell he put her and her sisters through in the past. She had to check, just in case, just to be safe.
She was very surprised when she actually got a result. Blizzora Avenue. Unable to turn back—subconsciously not wanting to turn back—she went, and here she now stands. She just has to know, absolutely must know if what she saw was real. She had to know, because it would drive her insane if she left it alone, so here she is, risking her life for the truth.
None of this makes any sense.
She wished both ways, split in two, wanting both to be the truth, which is impossible. She kept wishing for it to be wrong, for her to be wrong, for it all to be a hoax, a lie, anything but what it seemed. And yet, she wanted that to be wrong as well, all of it all at once, mixing her brain up and confusing her more than anything else.
She doesn't want Cole to be alive, yet she does. She keeps blaming it on stress, her desires and her vision. It was probably a stale premonition, left over from long ago, something she picked up due to stress and overwork, not the future. It had to be anxiety, or work, or demon fighting, or something. But it seemed so real…
But no matter how hard she tries to pass it off, she is thinking and feeling these things, twisting her up inside, confusing her even further. No matter how hard she tries to pass it off, she remains standing underneath the street sign, waiting for Goddess only knows what. She standing, in the sub-zero cold, waiting for a man to arrive whom she doesn't want to be alive in a place she desperately wants to get away from.
It makes no sense! Either she is waiting uselessly! Either her premonition really was a dud, and she goes home cold with nothing accomplished. Or, on the other hand, Cole really is alive, and he'll show up, and he did kill an innocent (or he will) and she doesn't want to be here to see him. Either way there is no reason to be here; it makes no sense! Either way she loses, but that all could be avoided if she hadn't left her house in the first place!
Phoebe is not stupid, so there must be more to this than there seems to be. A subconscious train of thought exists, and that's what has convinced her and pushed her to go against all sense and better judgment. No matter how much she wishes to deny it, cover it up, hide it and bury it, she loves Cole on some level, and really does miss him and wish to see him again.
But she knows he stopped being Cole long ago. She doesn't want to see him, but instead she wants what he was when he was human. She wants the good, human Cole she had loved and trusted. The one she misses and wants back. She misses what he was, and she'd give anything to have him back here with her, forever…
Then, she heard something and seized up. Her body went rigid and she listened intently. All senses ready, prepared for battle, anxious to defend, ready to run, prepared for anything. It was a soft swish, almost non-existent in the cold winds. But she had heard it, which means that it was close—too close. It may just have been the wind trying to scare her, or her mind playing tricks on her, or her subconscious trying to frighten her, but somehow Phoebe doubted all of that. She hoped that was the truth, but she didn't think so…
There it was again, louder, more distinct and closer this time. All was still and silent, even the wind, magnifying every sound, allowing her mind to frighten her further.
Oh god, what if it is him? Or another demon? I'd be screwed! Oh god please let it be my imagination… I really should've brought Leo, or stayed at home under my blankets, or done anything but this act of idiocy…
"Hello, honey—I'm back."
Phoebe screamed.
Please do read and review. This is the first story I have gotten to load (and have now fixed and altered and improved by a lot) so I am very proud. If you would like, read the other stories I put up (as I plan on having many!) And help me maintain a strong relationship with my adoring fans! (lmfao) Do review, but please don't flame. I want help, criticism, encouragement, but no rudeness or anything we'll all regret, okay?