I used to lie
My inspiration has run dry
That's what's going on
Nothing's right, I'm torn
Natalie Imbruglia, "Torn"She ran. Fast. Wondering through the darkness at Mach two. There was no way out. She kept running into walls. Invisible walls, in the pitch black. A light emerged. A face. Family... calling out to her. Calling her name. She chased after them. They kept calling. She chased them still, never getting closer. Suddenly... fading. They faded. Light became dark. Darkness stayed.
"You failed"
"You failed us."
"You failed your family"
"You failed your life"
"You didn't save us."
"You don't deserve us."
"We hate you"
"You're useless"
"Don't bother calling us"
"We'll never come"
"We've left you"
"For good"
"You deserve it"
"You're all alone"
"Alone"
"Alone"
"Alone"
A baby's cry filled the air. A baby she could not reach.
The woman jolted awake. She was already sitting up, her hand over her heart, her breath frantic. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and tears slowly rolled down her soft cheeks.
Slowly, reality arrived. She could hear the baby crying. She reached up her hand and gently wiped away her tears, drying them on the shirt of her pajamas. She shakily stood up from the queen-sized bed, taking only a few seconds to compose herself before heading towards the door.
A moment later, she arrived in a small room... the nursery. She looked across the room to see a little boy, almost one year old. He stood up in his white crib, his beautiful face red with crying. His wails bounced off of the walls, creating a ringing affect. His light blonde hair curled gently around his forehead and the back of his neck, looking tousled from a rough night's sleep. His blue eyes were squinted as he let small droplets roll from them.
"Oh, sweetie," she said, and quickly walked dashed across the room. She carefully lifted the sobbing boy to her, and began rubbing his back. "Hush, sweetie, it's okay, Mommy's here for you."
Slowly, the little boy stopped crying. He buried his head into his mother's hair, letting the wetness on his cheeks rub off on it. She cradled the boy close, making sure that he was safe.
She eased her way over to the white rocking chair in the corner of the nursery, gently seating herself and her son. She lightly kissed his pale forehead, pushing aside some of his wispy hair to do so. She began rocking them both back in forth in a calming manner, watching as her son drifted back to sleep.
Suddenly, a man appeared in the doorway, and his entrance was brought by the arrival of blue-and-white balls of light.
"Piper?" He asked, and the woman turned around. Her expression turned from serene to infuriated, to put it lightly.
Her name, in fact, was not "the woman", it was Piper Halliwell. She and her son lived on 1329 Prescott Street in San Francisco, California. Her husband, or soon to be ex-husband, Leo Wyatt, was Up There being a full-time elder, or at least he was supposed to be. Lately, he had still been hanging around the house, trying to solve some rather enigmatic mysteries around Halliwell Manor, as the sisters liked to call it.
Who were the sisters? Why, Piper, Phoebe, and Paige Halliwell, of course. Phoebe was currently living with her boyfriend, Jason, in some fancy apartment in Tokyo. Paige was living with her boyfriend, Richard, on the other side of the city. Neither had come to visit after they had left, except for the occasional demon attack.
Yes, the sisters were attacked by demons, and not just everyday, ordinary demons either. They were attacked by the most powerful demons that existed, because they were the most powerful witches. The three sisters were the Charmed Ones, the prophesied decedents of Melinda Warren, who were destined to bring down the Source of All Evil. Of course, they had finally accomplished that messy task about a year earlier, but they kept on fighting the good fight for, well, Good. As did Leo Wyatt, who was a whitelighter - basically, a guardian angel for good witches.
Anyway, back to the call from the doorway.
"What are you doing here?" Piper asked, with as much venom in her voice as she could manage with her child within hearing range. She didnÕt want to get too angry, as she didn't want to send bad vibes towards Wyatt, her son, who would probably end up crying again. The man in the doorway held up his hands defensively, taking an unconscious step back from the doorway.
"Whoa, I just came here to check on everything." He said, his eyes wide in fear. Piper had threatened him enough for him to know that this time she might be serious. Piper delicately lowered her baby boy into his crib, as he was again slumbering. Afterwards, she speedily turned to face the man in the doorway, her hands on her hips.
"Follow me," she said vehemently, lightly stomping towards the door, if it was possible. As she passed the man, she grabbed a hold of his ear, which wasnÕt such an easy task. The man was easily a head taller. She dragged him out of the room by the ear, ignoring his quiet protests. He knew that it would only irritate her further if he were to wake Wyatt.
Piper dragged the man into her room, turning on the lights with the flick of a switch as she passed through the entryway. She let go of his lobe after she shut the door, turning to him again. She harshly pushed him on the white wicker chair in the corner of her room, forcing him to become shorter than she. He gulped, knowing that he was in trouble this time.
"What the hell are you doing here at two o'clock in the morning, Chris?" Piper asked, glaring fiercely at the young man. He was, when standing, just over six feet tall, with longish brown hair and calm, green eyes. But then, his eyes weren't so calm, they were more... scared out of their wits.
"What?" Chris asked, his eyes darting in every direction, as if looking for an escape. "Am I not allowed to check on my charges? That is my job, you know." He tried to use some logic to ease Piper's nerves. He knew an angry Piper was not a fun Piper to be around. Piper, however, scoffed at his comment.
"You were here to check on your charges?" Piper asked, rolling her eyes. She leaned forward and put her hands on the arms of the chair. Chris tried to bury himself in the back of the wicker chair, getting some unwelcome splinters in his back due to the age of the seat. "Hate to break it to you buddy, but you only have one charge now."
As suddenly as she had come into the position, she withdrew from it. She slowly wandered over to her dresser, staring at the picture collection on top of it.
Chris transcended into a daze, his eyes showing his brain drifting off into space. A million thoughts flew throughout his head, making him feel dizzy. How could he have only one charge now? How could two charges just suddenly disappear without him knowing?
"Are they... dead?" He asked, terror in his voice. Piper slightly turned her head towards his, giving him a hard smirk.
"No, they're just off living with their boyfriends God knows where." She said coldly, then sharply moved her head back to the photos. Chris's mindset turned from terror to fury. How could Phoebe and Paige just up and leave both their sister and their wiccan duties? And for what, their boyfriends who they didn't even end up with? It was ridiculous!
"How the hell could you let them do that?" Chris asked, standing up from the armchair. He slowly walked towards Piper, trying not to anger her again. "Just... just go and bring them back, kicking and screaming if need be!" Chris watched, baffled, as Piper's demeanor lost its hardness. Her shoulders slouched, her head bent, and her arms lost their rigidness, now folded defensively across her chest.
"Don't you think I want to?" Piper's voice was eerily tranquil, seeming as if it was coming from someone other than herself. She showed a bit of humanity to Chris for the first time that night. His eyes softened as he saw her, and he stopped his gradual approach. He remained silent in order to allow her to continue.
"I want them to come. I want them to come home so badly... I just can't make them. They're happy and... it doesn't matter if I'm not. They are, and that's more important." A small droplet escaped her eye and rolled down her cheek. It seemed to bring her back to reality. She hastily wiped her tear away, and straightened herself up. "What do you care, anyway, you're just my bastard of a whitelighter from the future." She briskly traipsed across the room and out of the door.
Crude, but accurate, Chris thought lightly as he followed her through the hallway, up the stairs, and into the attic . He really was a bastard, after all, but Piper didn't realize that she was the mother out of wedlock.
Yes, Piper Halliwell was the mother of Christopher "Chris" Perry. Chris Perry Halliwell, that is. He was her and Leo's second son, who, by the way, was not yet conceived. But, of course, that was something Chris would have to work on. He had until older brother's first birthday, after all.
Chris halted in his thoughts, realizing his surroundings. Piper was thumbing through the Book of Shadows, skimming one page and then flipping to the next one.
"What are you doing?" Chris asked, raising his eyebrows questioningly. He lightly crossed his arms and cocked his head slightly to the right. Piper stole a quick glance at him before looking back down at the Book of Shadows, where the picture of a Banshee could be seen clearly.
"Looking in the Book of Shadows." Piper said, "duh" written all over her tone of voice. Chris rolled his eyes at his mother's response, trying not to make an audible response that would alert Piper to his annoyance.
"What are you looking for?" He asked, making his question more specific. He hoped that he wouldn't receive a sarcastic response for this one, too. Piper stopped flipping and looked up at Chris, her hands rested on the alter holding the book.
"Wyatt has been having a lot of nightmares lately, and I wanted to see if there was any type of demon causing it." Piper continued to look through the book as Chris quickly diverted his eyes. Unconsciously, he began whistling innocently. He knew exactly what was causing the dreams, but he wasn't about to tell Piper that.
Piper, of course, noticed his not-so-subtle feint of innocence, and was standing directly in front of him in no time.
"Chris, hon, what's causing the dreams?" Piper asked, trying to intimidate him, even though she was about a foot shorter than he was. Chris tried not to look at his mom, but then he felt a sharp pain go through his shin. He snapped his head down at Piper, who was smiling widely and innocently.
"What'd you do that for?" Chris asked, his voice becoming a bit high-pitched from the pain. Piper's smile turned into a smirk.
"I'll answer your question if you answer mine." She said. Chris sighed.
"Fine," he said, and turned away from his mother. "Wyatt's getting a new power: Prophetic dreams." He could practically hear her jaw drop.
"Another one?" Piper asked, tapping Chris on his shoulder. He faced her again.
"Yeah, another one," he answered, trying to keep the envy out of his speech. He didnÕt want anything to tip of his mother about who he really was. He wasn't ready to face her as his mother instead of his charge, or his tool. And he was damn sure she wasn't ready to look at him as anything besides a pain in the ass. "So, how about you answer my question?" Piper tried not to smile.
"Easy. I kicked you because you're a pain in the ass." Chris grunted. I was right, he thought.
"Good for you." Piper said, and turned back to the book. Chris stood there for a moment, confused. Just as he was about to speak, a blue and white triquetra appeared in the wall, directly behind Piper. An intense wind blew from it, strong enough to blow the two people over. Chris quickly caught Piper before they both hit the ground, making himself the cushion between her and the ground. The portal still kept going as the two just stared at it, having no idea who, or what, was going to come out of it.
Suddenly, a figure catapulted out of it, flying all the way across the attic and into the opposite wall. It crashed to the floor, breaking numerous objects. The portal whooshed as it closed, ending the tornado-like winds in the room. Piper shakily stood up, with Chris right behind her to keep her balance. The two stared at the figure as it got up from the floor.
The figure ended up being a girl. She looked like an adolescent, and was fairly short; she was only about five feet tall. She had dark brunette, curly hair that reached just pass her shoulders, and had calm, mossy green eyes. Eyes that looked strangely familiar to Piper, but she couldn't place them.
The girl smoothed out some of the wrinkles in her outfit, which ws very risqué. She wore a midnight blue leather miniskirt, a wine red leather tube top, and a forrest green cropped leather jacket. She had white leather wristbands with black RÕs imprinted in them and black leather boots that reached up to her knees and had three-inch heels.
After straightening up her outfit, she futilely attempted to smooth down her wild hair and puffed a curl out of her face. Finally, she spotted the two people in the middle of the attic, and her eyes widened. Piper glanced at Chris, whose mouth was wide open.
"Chris?" The girl asked, smiling. Chris nodded numbly.
ÒSierra?"
Piper stared at the two, completely baffled at what was going on. Stark silence filled the room.
This is new, Piper thought sarcastically.
T:T:T:T
AN: Okay, okay, I know the timeline is a bit off, but this is the way it is in my story. Live with it. Please, please review!