Oh man, I haven't updated in SO long. -hangs head in shame- But MS Word decided to break and I lost half my writing -kicks computer- I am back now! But I'm going on Holiday next Tuesday for two weeks! So you won't be getting an update : ( But hopefully I'll have plenty time in the hot Orlando sun to write. Lol. (No Kath, I'm no rubbing it in…)

You have to understand that I'm sitting five highers this year (for those of you who don't have the privilege of living in Scotland that translates to a shit load of work!) And also, to those of you whose stories I've stopped reviewing I promise I've not stopped reading! I barely have time to keep up with my own fic anymore so you'll have to wait until I can find a spare day to read about, oh say 14 fics! Lmao. No pressure, Laur. Onyhoo, on a more cheerful note! You all rock! Thanks for the reviews!

No responses today, but it's been so long since you left them you've probably forgotten what they say anyway! But Kath (That's my sister for all those of you who don't know), I think I'd be slightly more disturbed than you if I witnessed you and Simon's first meeting. Especially since you were still with Adam at the time! Haha! Love ya really, Chicken! One thing- for all my family members who read this (Yeah, I let slip to my mum I write, I think ever one of my relatives is queuing to read LOM now. Haha.) I'm expecting a review:p

I've split this again because it would have ended up at about fourteen pages if I wrote the whole thing and I don't know if I'd have managed to finish that for Tuesday. But I should have the second half up very soon after I return home. You guys all rock for being patient with me. Love you all.

This chapter is for Ross. Thanks bunches dude! I am not worthy. You rock. Etcetera, Etcetera. And you're better. +pokes tongue out+ And it's also for David Bowie because he cured my writer's block, but I doubt he reads this! Haha!

Chapter30- A Mother's Love

"What happened?" Came a voice Piper was sure was Andy's. Being surrounded by all of these future people was beginning to get slightly overwhelming.

"A demonatrix attacked your mom. Warren kicked her ass."

"Hardly," She still couldn't see him, but Warren had the same husky voice as Mark had had.

"I'm sorry, oh great one." Laura smirked, rolled her eyes and gave a bow in the direction of her younger brother.

This enabled Piper to catch a glimpse of her nephew. Once again, she found her eyes bulging from her head in amazement. She had thought Laura's resemblance to Paige had been great, but Warren was the spitting image of his father. His wild curls sat a few inches longer than Mark's had and his nose was still in the centre of his face, but it was as if Piper could have been looking at Mark at sixteen years old.

He was grinning, clearly liking the exhilaration he got from using his powers, but his hands played nervously with something in the pockets of his loose fitting, bootlegged, dirty denim jeans. A deep reddish-purple, corduroy jacket covered his torso. It fastened with toggles over the top of his white shirt- the collar of which was almost as large as the collar of Laura's yellow blouse had been. The jacket, adorned with various coloured buttons and many oddly-shaped pockets, seemed slightly tight around the teen's muscular chest, but Piper assumed that was fashionable in the future.

He flashed her a smile, embarrassed and she found herself giving a small, disbelieving laugh. His tall, well built appearance gave the impression that Warren would be arrogant and his immense display of power made Piper wonder why he wasn't. He bit down on his lower lip and shifted uncomfortably on his feet, rubbing his huge, blue, 'Anderson eyes' as he turned away from his Aunt.

"What the hell is going on?" Came a frustrated voice- one Piper recognised immediately as Paige's. She restrained herself from groaning.

"Another demon attacked." Andy informed his wheelchair-bound aunt, who Piper could just see making her way into the already crowded kitchen.

"Anothe-" Paige cut off when she spotted her son and her gaze softened, "Hey Spoob, when did you get here?"

Warren gave an uncomfortable shrug and turned to face his mother. He greeted her with a beaming smile and Piper couldn't help but smile with him. Her instant shine to her only nephew was oddly comforting in the rather chaotic situation.

"'Bout three and a half minutes ago…" He said quietly.

"Back to the more pressing issue: another demon attack!" Andy snapped, waving his hands in a frustrated gesture. Piper shuddered at how much her future son had just reminded her of herself.

"Actually," Paige said, pursing her lips into a famous Paige-pout, "I think the more pressing issue is what on earth is the matter with your Mom!"

"What's the matter with Mom?" This voice was new. Although it was close, it sounded as though whoever was talking was a million miles away.

Piper peered round Melinda-Jayne, who was now standing in the doorway, and found herself staring at the figure of an adolescent female. Her face was not visible as it was hidden behind the tome Piper had become very attached to during her time as a witch- The Book Of Shadows - which meant it could only be one person.

Unlike Laura and MJ, Amy did not hold herself with elegance. She stood with one leg bent, causing her (already two inches too long), dark denim, anti-fit jeans to trail on the floor. A small section of her slim waist was revealed due to the positioning of her tight, teal polo shirt, which clung to her developing figure in a way that showed off the lack of-

"Mom! My breasts are perfectly adequate, thank you!"

A shiver ran down Piper's spine as her back straightened in shock. Her deep brown eyes, full of curiosity, quickly scanned the room looking for any sign of anyone else having heard what Amy had just said… or thought. And then Piper began to panic. Her youngest daughter had just projected a thought into her mind. Amy would be able to get any information she wanted out of Piper before the eldest Charmed One could even explain the situation herself.

"Gee, jumpy much?" This time Piper breathed a sigh of relief. Everyone else had heard Amy talk too. The thought of having someone invading her own mind was not one Piper was comfortable with.

When Piper opened her mouth to speak, however, she found herself unable. She had glanced up and found that Amy had lowered the book of Shadows so that it was covering her chest, leaving her face visible. She was beautiful. Loose, golden curls, pushed behind her rather large ears, fell past her shoulders and, accompanied by her impish grin, this gave her appearance a childlike innocence. Her small, button nose was covered in a thin layer of light freckles, and she had a small scar just above her lip which, much like the squintness of Andy's nose, suggested one too many demon battles. It was Amy's eyes that stunned Piper though: the right's rich, chocolate brown held a captivating beauty, which Piper did not recognise was almost identical to her own eyes; the piercing green of her left eye almost made Piper feel uncomfortable with its seeming ability to see right into her soul. But she couldn't help but smile. Every one of the future children she had encountered had been perfect in every way.

"Shh!" Amy hissed, slamming the Book Of Shadows hard down on the kitchen table, causing everyone to turn in her direction with an almost identical confused expression spread on all of their faces. Piper, startled from her chain of thought jerked her head sideways, eyes widened. "Nobody say anything else."

"What the heck are you talking about?" Andy asked her, squinting his eyes in curiosity.

"She's from the past!" Amy gasped in alarm.

xxxxx

Phoebe stood for a moment, her brow knitted as her dark eyes surveyed her surroundings. The grand arched ceiling, made up of thousands of ornate carvings, seemed a million miles away. The middle Charmed One tilted her head backwards and her mouth opened slightly in sheer amazement. The walls, of the same splendorous and intricately carved shapes, appeared to stretch for centuries like a never-ending passage of pure beauty. Residing in the stunning carvings Phoebe could make out the faces of smiling children, gazing down at her from their marble home in a welcoming manner. The wings of angels also appeared in the carvings and just looking at then allowed a veil of calm to settle Phoebe.

Allowing her gaze to move from the beauteous walls, her eyes appeared to bulge from her head as realisation settled on her. A building with such beauty as this one was not easily forgotten and Phoebe knew exactly where she had seen it before. The first time she had laid eyes upon the walls that surrounded her had been a very significant moment in Halliwell history. For where Phoebe stood now was the exact spot Paige had stood the first time she had used her telekinetic orbing. Phoebe could remember, as clear as day, the utterly bemused expression on her younger sister's face when that candle had appeared in her hand.

But judging by the lack of decorations adorning the front of the church, it was not the second time she had been in the church which she had returned to either. Her eyes followed the rows of deep mahogany pews down the aisle, which only seemed to add to the beauty of the church, but there as no sign that a wedding was about to take place: No flower doused arch, no petals lining the heavily polished wooden floor, nor any sign of a wedding guest greeted Phoebe's eyes, and, accompanied by the sun's evening glow, the middle Charmed One was made certain that she had not returned to the day of Paige and Mark's wedding. Then…where was she?

It was when her gaze reached the windows that her breath was really taken away. The setting sun shining through the beautiful stain glass window created beams of multicoloured light. Every piece was placed intricately within the dull iron bars of metal that separated the rainbow like material. Within the centre, a large glass illustration of a biblical figure which Phoebe did not recognise, the stunning green eyes made of glass seemed to watch over those who entered. (AN- Thanks a million Ross!)

Phoebe could have spent eternity in the amazingly beautiful building just savouring its immense splendour, but she knew she had been transported there for a reason. She could only begin to wonder what that reason was though, for she had no idea what time she was in or what significance it had to helping her know her little sister better… and then it dawned on her. The reason Paige had gotten married in this particular church; the reason they had been in that church when Paige had first used her powers: this was the church where Paige had been given up as a child.

And suddenly, as if her realisation had triggered the starting of time, footsteps from the front of the church startled Phoebe back to reality. As the panic of being seen washed over her, Phoebe dived into one of the many rows of pews, muffling her cry of pain as her elbow made contact with the hardwood floor. She let out a quiet groan as she rose to her knees hoping to catch a glimpse of the person at the front of the church, realising at the same time that her dive for a hiding place had broken the heal of her shoe.

"Damnit!" She whispered in a harsh tone, "These were Gucci!"

Phoebe's irritation over her broken shoe was quickly quashed when, from the corner of her eye, she spotted a cloud of blue and white lights form at the front of the church. Raising her gaze so that she was peering out from above the pew in front of her she saw whom the footsteps had belonged to. A middle aged woman, no older than thirty-five, was standing at the front of the church. Her long black robes brushed the floor as she spun round to face the orbs forming in the corner and she brought a hand to her chest, clutching her cross necklace tightly.

Not close enough to pick up on extreme emotion; she only felt a small glimmer of Sister Agnes's panic. The poor woman had turned sheet white and the middle Charmed One could tell from the rapid rise and fall of her chest that the nun was scared. Of course Phoebe was scared too. In all the time she had known Paige she had never really taken time to think about what Patty had gone through when giving her youngest daughter up and now, she was going to witness it first hand.

Taking a deep breath, Phoebe spoke the spell she had recited in P3 and found her astral self, invisible once again, sitting on the second row of pews from the front. Sister Agnes's panic was washing over her rapidly now. She looked towards the orbs which formed her mother and Sam and felt more frightened than she had ever been in her life. At once regretting her decision to move closer, Phoebe was tied between her own emotions and the nun's.

Her mother's face was red and raw. Her usual golden curls hung, greasy and limp, by her face, clinging to her skin which, where it was not worn from the obvious tears which had been falling from her bloodshot eyes, was ghostly pale. Her body, though clearly weighted from load remaining after giving birth, looked frail and ready to collapse to the ground, but her trembling arms kept a tight grip on the tiny bundle of blankets in her arms. Baby Paige seemed dumfounded by everything that was happening and Phoebe watched as a tiny hand stretched out towards Sam. The innocence in that one action had been enough to set Patty's tears off again and as she stumbled backwards, Sam wrapped her in a protective embrace. Sam himself looked no better than his true love. Phoebe was so used to seeing Sam as happy grandfather that watching him fight back tears was slightly discomforting. His rich, brown hair stuck up at odd angles and the huge bags which resided under his eyes gave him the appearance that he had not slept in weeks. His face too was raw and his blue eyes held too much sorrow for Phoebe to cope with.

And that was when a huge empathic wave hit Phoebe with all of its power. She suddenly felt as if her heart had been ripped from her chest. She collapsed to the hard, wooden floor as intense pain engulfed her. Tears fell freely from her eyes and she lost the ability to remain silent, letting out a painful sob which reverberated off of the grand buildings walls. Fortunately, it was muffled by Patty's sobs and nobody looked in her direction, but Phoebe had not felt such immense pain since Prue had died.

"Angels." The sound of Sister Agnes's voice met Phoebe's ears and she jerked her head towards the nun, whose jaw was hanging open and eyes were burning with amazement and curiosity. What the nun was truly feeling, however, Phoebe could not tell. She was so overwhelmed with her mother and Sam's emotion that she couldn't even register her own emotions.

She brought a shaking hand to her face and pressed it against her reddened eyes, hoping the rush of tears had stopped. Her hand visibly trembled as she placed it on the pew to help herself to her feet, which was a challenge in itself because her knees felt like they may collapse under her own weight.

Watching the scene unfold in front of her was something she had never expected to do. Her mother had always been so strong: Patricia Halliwell- Wonderwitch. But now, as the middle Charmed One watched her mother lean on Sam for support, barely keeping herself upright and cradling her baby so closely to her chest, she saw her mother in a whole new light. Patty had been through so much in her life, and Phoebe (and, she assumed, her sisters) had never taken it into consideration. She could not imagine losing MJ or Charlotte. From the moment they had been conceived they were her life and soul. She knew Patty felt the same way about her daughters. Giving Paige up must have been the hardest thing she had ever had to do.

"Angels," Agnes's soft whisper met Phoebe's ears again and she placed herself on the pew to avoid falling again. "Why are you here?" The nun's voice was soft, but clear. She was visibly afraid, her breath quick and blinking rapid, but her voice remained calm.

Phoebe closed her eyes tightly, unable to bear watching the excruciating pain in her mother's face. But as much as she pleaded with her power, Phoebe knew that no matter how tightly she closed her eyes, the wave of intense emotion would hit her. And hit her it did, in a way Phoebe had never experienced her empathy before.

A tousled mass of golden brown hair hit her chin, and her strong arms wrapped protectively around the woman's violently shaking body. Deeply confused with what on earth had just happened, she went to blink, as if in the hope of opening her eyes to find herself back on the Church pew. But she did not blink; she couldn't. She had no control over her actions. And that was when it hit her: regret, guilt and sorrow crashed into her heart at gale force. Had she any control, she would have contorted in pain. Of course, she had quickly realised what had happened. Not only was she feeling Sam Wilder's emotions, but she was also seeing the word through his eyes.

Phoebe, however, had no time to ponder over her sudden power advancement. She felt Sam's jaw begin to tremble and he bit down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. Through all the pain which was swelling in his soul, Phoebe could feel his incredible love for the woman in his arms: Patty. His eyes were heavily glazed with tears, but he fought against them, his desire to stay strong for Patty the only thing stopping him from collapsing himself. He could hear his daughter's soft whimpers and oblivious sighs and his heart crumbled. This tiny miracle of a little girl was the most beautiful thing life (as a human, and a whitelighter) had ever given him, and now he was going to have to give her away. Phoebe felt his stomach churn. Bile rose in Sam's throat, but he swallowed it hard, closing his eyes to blink back a steady stream of tears, which both Phoebe and Sam knew would inevitably fall eventually. And then he opened his mouth to talk.

"Please, just listen..." He pleaded. His voice stuck in the back of his throat, which, until now, Phoebe had not realised was raw. The muscles in his face ached and the immense throbbing in his temples was giving Phoebe the desire to scream, but Sam remained quiet, waiting for the bewildered nun's response. When the petit woman gave a small nod, Sam bowed his head, directing his gaze away from the infant in Patty's arms.

"We don't have much time," he said, almost giving in to his tears and letting out a small choke. Phoebe knew, had she been in the situation, she would have been unable to talk. "We need your help, Sister..." He let a single tear fall. Phoebe felt Sam's heart tighten. "This baby... our child..." He gulped back a painful sob. 'Our child'; it seemed to ring in his mind like the echo of a bell in a hollow tower. She was not going to be their child. They were giving her up. "She's in great danger." Sam almost scowled at his choice of words. The danger she was in was from the greatest known force of good in the world. "Her only chance is... is to..." He stuttered. How could he hand his daughter over to a complete stranger, woman of god or not? Finding himself unable to finish his sentence, he removed his gaze from the wooden floor and rested his eyes on the small, round, pale face of Paige. She was so small, so innocent, and so oblivious to the world around her, but Sam had never loved anything more in his life. "Take her." He said firmly, and then he gave in to his tears.

For a moment, all Phoebe saw was darkness. She began to wonder if Sam had passed out, but when she realised she could still hear his desperate attempts to hold back his sobs she realised she was no longer in his body.

"I…" A Voice gasped. Phoebe did not need to have her vision to tell it was Sister Agnes. Without being in a body, all Phoebe could make out of the situation was the sounds: quickened footsteps, Patty and Sam's tears, innocent warbles of baby Paige. But it gave her time to make sense of her sudden power advancement. It was almost as if her astral projection had mixed with her empathy and was allowing her to project into people's minds. Normally, Phoebe would have been ecstatic, but in the midst of such an intense situation she was beginning to regret even casting the spell which had brought her into the past.

"What do you want me to do?" Agnes's voice, trembling with trepidation, startled Phoebe from her thoughts. The middle Charmed One was suddenly tremendously glad she was no longer in Sam's body, for she did not know if she would have been able to handle the pain he was about to undergo. But Phoebe had thought too soon.

She had no time to be glad for her release from Sam's emotions, as an overwhelming churning in the pit of her stomach brought forth a painful headache and a strong urge to vomit, which she thought would never end. Having her soul torn from her body was not something she wished to experience ever again, and the Halliwell clenched her fists tight, and firmly shut her eyes, hoping for it to stop.

She got her wish.

When she opened her eyes she could see again. Only, as she had so hoped she would, she had not returned to her own body. This time her eyes were so blurred that she could barely see the gurgling baby in her arms. The hammering pain in her pelvis was almost numbed by the immeasurable swell of her emotions and the grip she had on the tiny girl was almost as strong as the tremendous grip of hollow misery which was suddenly devouring her heart.

A tiny hand wrapped around her index finger; it was almost baby Paige's plea for her mother to stop crying. But instead of causing Patricia Halliwell more pain, as Phoebe had suspected it would, her mother's grief lightened. Fresh tears still continued to stream down her face and her joints continued to throb in a constant aching; her chest was tight and tender, and her eyelids felt weighted by a serious lack of sleep and continuous crying. But, although intense pain still coursed through her veins and she needed Sam's support to remain standing, the innocence and pureness which radiated from the tiny baby's touch seemed to focus Patty's chain of thought.

The Charmed Ones' mother looked up, eyes still blurred, but she managed to meet the gaze of Sister Agnes. The nun was standing a mere three feet from her, her head cocked to the side in a curious and panicked concern. Patty's mind raced: was she really about to give her daughter to this stranger? But there was no question. She had to, not only for the baby's sake, but also for her other daughters. Prudence, Piper and Phoebe were her life, and she knew they were destined for great things. If the elders discovered there was a fourth sister it was beyond comprehension what would happen to her newborn. And it was this thought which remained in her head as she took an unsteady step forward.

"We will always love you," Sam's soft voice croaked as he tightened his embrace on Patty. He planted a gentle kiss on his daughter's forehead, and then Patty's, before taking a step backwards.

Patty continued to move toward the nun, her knees trembling with more vigour with every step she took. Phoebe would have questioned Sam's decision to remain in the spot he was standing in if it had not been for the sense of utter obligation coursing through Patricia Halliwell's veins. Phoebe felt a small glimmer of relief in Patty when Sister Agnes began to walk towards her, relieving the Charmed Ones' mother of the seemingly never-ending journey. But it was quickly replaced with remorse when the time came to hand the small child over.

"Goodbye." Patty whispered, looking directly into the eyes of her daughter, and knowing that the entrancing virtue held in those eyes would be soemthing which haunted her forever. "My Angel..."

Slowly, Patty began shuffling back towards Sam and silent tears plummeted down her cheeks. With no baby in her arms to protect anymore, the witch allowed herself collapsed into her love's arm. She was exhausted both physically and emotionally and Sam held her hand tightly, giving her palm a loving squeeze as they shared a final look at the product of their love. Orbs began to surround them, and Phoebe began to panic. If they orbed out with her still in Patty's body her own body would be left in the church. Her panic came to an abrupt end, however, when Patty suddenly squeezed Sam's hand roughly, signalling for him to stop, and Patty's emotions once again overcame Phoebe. The two grief stricken lovers remained the same spot, standing in deadly silence as Patty stared at her child in the nun's arms. The Charmed Ones' mother knew she would never get her daughter back, and the immense swelling of pain which welled up within Patty when she saw her own daughter in another woman's arms hit Phoebe like a speeding Orinoco truck.

"P..." Patty suddenly croaked out, her voice cracked with distress and from the screaming she had committed during labour and its heart-wrenching aftermath.

"I beg your pardon?" Sister Agnes asked politely, not wanting to enrage these beings encase they weren't as peaceful and serene as they made themselves out of be.

"P..." The witch replied, "Make sure... her name..." She scrunched her eyes up, one grief filled sob left her throat, "Begins with a P..."

At the same time as Phoebe felt a small part of Patty's soul crumble; her own soul was torn from her mother's body. Instead of her spirit hovering between bodies as it had done in the previous exchange of homes, however, she only, for a split second, remained without an overwhelming emotion within her. But this time it was different. She knew she wasn't herself because she still had no control over her own actions and feelings, but whoever was home to her spirit could barely make sense of their own emotions. She felt like she was in a foreign place, and that every piece of comfort had been taken from her. Strong arms wrapped around her body, but they were not the arms she wanted.

For one of the few times in her life, Phoebe felt vulnerable. Light shifting around was the only thing she could see, the rest of the experience was tearing apart her other senses... something... something she needed had... gone away… and she wanted it to come back more than anything in the world. A high-pitched cry suddenly pierced her hearing and a flash of darkness passed over her eyes, it had looked like the blurry outline of an arm. That was when Phoebe realised where these emotions were coming from. They were coming from her baby sister, who was barely an hour old. She was in her baby sister's mind.

Phoebe had never expected a child so young to be able to experience emotions so strong, but radiating from Paige was a feeling that broke Phoebe's heart: abandonment. As the tiny child continued to bawl, in a desperate plea for her mother and father's comfort to return, and as Phoebe realised that the abandonment baby Paige was feeling would have been similar to that of the neglect she felt when her parents had died, when her best, and only friend, Glenn had left for the Matterhorn, when Mark had died... Phoebe's soul was once again ripped from someone else's body. This time, it returned to its rightful place.

But that didn't stop Phoebe's tears. Everything she had just experienced had been too much emotion for one person to handle in such a short space of time. Her head began to spin and she closed her eyes, still full of tears, hoping that the four pews she was seeing would return to the one she knew was there. Sobs wracked her body, not just of sorrow, but of mental exhaustion and of a desire to return to her own time and help her younger sister. She was too distracted to notice Sister Agnes walking towards her, clearly looking for the source of the noisy weeping and by the time the footsteps had reached her, Phoebe had completely blacked out.

AN- And that, my friends, was that! I really hope that was worth the wait. I know I suck for making you wait for so long, but I am trying to devote more time to LOM now. Highers suck. Lol. Hope you haven't all deserted me :p

Laur xXx