Part Two
As the cooling potion continued to bubble, Phoebe carefully tossed some of the throw pillows on the floor in the center of a ring of unlit candles. She glanced at her watch and back at the cauldron and knew there was no reason to delay any longer. She lit the candles, making sure all were straight and spread enough apart and not in danger of causing a fire.
"You don't have to go through with this…"
Phoebe rolled her eyes, "Coop…"
"Okay," he mimicked zippering his lips, "I'll zip it…But I'm staying."
"Don't you have other cases?" she muttered as she carefully stepped out of the circle and returned to the cauldron.
"You're my top priority right now," he informed her.
"Fine," she relented as she stirred the potion one last time, "you can make sure no one orbs in and disturbs anything. If I'm not back by morning, make sure Piper gets that envelope over there." She frowned at the greenish brown color and bent her head over the cauldron to take a whiff. At least it didn't smell as bad as it looked, she thought with a sigh.
"Time travel's tricky," Coop mentioned. "You might be better off with a spell or portal."
"It'll work," she told him as she pocketed two of the small vials she'd already prepared before she looked up at him in surprise. "How'd you know I'd be traveling through time?" But she quickly shook her head and began pouring the potion into a drinking glass, "Never mind. Look, I researched it and this should give me more than enough time to get my answers before it wears off and brings me back." Phoebe stared at the liquid in the glass and grimaced. It still looked like something from the sewer and she hoped it wouldn't prove to taste the same.
"It's risky," he mused, "in more ways than one. And before you deny it, I happen to know that right now you're more afraid of seeing him again than you are about this great evil you're researching."
"Cole's the only one who can help," she quietly stated as she set the glass down, avoiding the cupid's sharp gaze.
"So this's all a business trip to you," he inquired, "no cracks in your façade as you confront the love of your life?"
Phoebe realized it was futile to argue that point because it was probably still true. "I won't let myself fall apart," she declared instead, "this's too important. Besides, I'm not confronting him. I'm just asking him a few questions and --"
"You loved him, Phoebe," Coop emphasized as he lightly placed his hands on her shoulders, "and there's no shame in that. Give yourself a break and acknowledge how wonderful it was."
"I never denied it was wonderful!" she retorted, stepping out from under his grip. "Cole was everything to me! But he also nearly destroyed me and I can't, I won't, let him in and ruin my life for me now."
"He can't do that anymore," he shook his head, "only you have the power to do that to yourself."
Phoebe didn't respond because she didn't know how to respond. Coop was right about her fear, she was terrified of seeing Cole and reopening deep wounds that she knew had never truly healed. But Cole was the one person she trusted to give her the answers she needed about the Triad and about Christy. It was risky seeing him again, at a time when they were so much in love, a time when they thought love would let them overcome any obstacle and she wasn't sure her heart would return with her in one piece. She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, "I don't have a choice."
"What if he realizes you're from a different time," Coop wondered, "or what if your past-self appears at the same time? You might change the past and make things worse."
She shook her head, "I've got it covered." He seemed skeptical and she sighed before explaining, "I'm picking a time after he became human. He was so unsure of himself then. But if I tell him I had a premonition and need his help, it might help convince him that even if he didn't have his powers, he still had valuable knowledge that he could teach us."
He considered her explanation, "You still didn't answer my questions. What if he figures it out? What if you're caught?"
She patted one of her pockets, "A potion to make someone forget."
"What's the other potion for?"
She hesitated before answering, "It's a truth-serum of sorts, a strong one."
He eyed her in surprise, "I thought you trust Cole."
"I do, I did," she quickly insisted. "But I also have to anticipate glitches with the time-travel potion. It might take a while to get Cole alone or he might not want to talk about the Underworld. I need a back-up plan to make sure I don't lose valuable time. Hopefully I won't even need it."
"I can't stop you, can I?" he realized.
She picked up the drinking glass, patted his arm as she passed him, and apologized, "I'm doing the right thing."
"Then do me a favor," he requested as she settled on the pillows within the circle of lit candles. She looked up at him and he suggested, "Listen to him, to yourself, and learn. This is an opportunity, maybe your last, for you to heal your heart."
Phoebe nodded and took a deep breath before swallowing the entire contents of the glass in as few gulps as possible. She was immediately dizzy but managed to set the glass on the floor next to her before she collapsed on the pillows.
"Good luck, Phoebe," Coop wished as he watched her body disappear.
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Phoebe thought she smelled smoke but couldn't manage to open her eyes. Had one of the candles fallen? She called out for Coop but, surprisingly, her voice was barely a whisper. She turned her head and moaned from the sensation of the room spinning although she hadn't yet opened her eyes. But when she finally did and she saw the cavern walls, she frantically tried to bring herself up to a seated position.
"Phoebe!"
She was so dizzy and nauseous that it took her a few moments to register the anxious man helping her sit up. "Cole…"
"What happened?" he asked, sweeping her hair from her face. "You said you were going to bed. Is it the baby?"
"Baby?" she gasped again. Then she realized how he was dressed, all in black with his cloak opened. "Omigod," she panicked. Something had gone wrong with her timing. She hadn't returned to a time when Cole was human but to the time after he'd become, "Source…" She felt the blood drain from her face and swayed before everything went black.
Cole caught her before she fell back to the floor and quickly gathered her in his arms. With the slightest motion of his fingers, he created a plush chaise lounge and set his wife down on it. He was about to call for the Seer when Phoebe stirred. He sat on the edge of the lounge, lightly caressed her cheek, and encouraged, "That's it, open your eyes."
Phoebe's first thought was that she'd made a terrible mistake. But the weight of the small vials in her pockets forced her to open her eyes. "Cole," her voice cracked. She couldn't fall apart now. She tried pushing him back.
Realizing he was hovering too close, he leaned back and suggested, "Don't move, just take some deep breaths…In a few minutes, I'll take you back home…"
"No!" She propped herself up on her elbows, "No, I'm okay."
"Of course you are in that lovely shade of green," he teased before kissing her forehead. "Here," he offered as he held out his hand and presented her with a newly materialized teacup and saucer, "I've read that tea helps with the morning sickness which, as we both already know, can strike even at night."
At least the potion hadn't backfired completely. It had made her so dizzy and nauseous that Cole hadn't thought twice about her appearance in the Underworld. But his comment still surprised her and she accepted the cup and peered at him over its rim as she cautiously took a sip, "You read up on pregnancy? When?"
"Now and then," he admitted, "ever since you told me the news." He glanced down and pressed a hand to her flat stomach, "You're carrying our son, Phoebe. I want to know what you're going through, help you any way I can."
She gazed down at the hand pressing the belly she knew was empty, "Help me become evil, you mean?"
"You've had a rough week," he harshly acknowledged as he practically leaped to his feet, "so I'll let that one pass."
"It's hard," was all Phoebe said before she took another sip of the tea which, to her surprise, seemed to help.
"I understand," he nodded, "that with one split-second decision your world was changed and that you've also got to cope with the additional changes your body is experiencing. And I'm making allowances, believe me. Take last night for instance. Did I get angry or upset?"
Still unsure of exactly when she'd arrived, she mumbled into her cup, "Last night?"
"Don't play the innocent witch," he warned, "you know I'm talking about your vanquish of Larta."
"Which one was he again?" But the nausea came back with a vengeance as images of her brief reign as Queen flashed through her mind and she set aside the cup before bringing her hand to the base of her throat.
Concerned, Cole waved away the cup and sat next to her again. He gently pushed her back into the cushions. "Larta, the demon I had in charge of a major assignment in London. It'll take his replacement weeks to recover all the data and move ahead with the hunt."
"Oops," she sheepishly uttered as she closed her eyes.
But he caught sarcasm in her tone, "I mean it, Phoebe." Her eyes opened and he met her gaze, "You cannot continue vanquishing my minions especially if it's only because you hated the knockoff designer shoes he was wearing."
Oh, that Larta. She now recalled that vanquish with crystal clarity as if it had happened the night before rather than four years earlier. "If they're gonna dress the part," she shrugged as she had back then, "they shouldn't cut corners. Shoes are an accessory that can make or break the outfit and --"
Cole impulsively kissed her, "Yes, you can buy that pair of three hundred dollar heels you had your heart set on." But instead of a smile, he saw her eyes well with tears, "You're tired. The Seer said it's most important for you to get as much rest as you can." She was about to retort so he placed a finger on her lips, "This baby's of a very powerful lineage and I want you in the best possible health for carrying him to term so go back to bed. I've still got some business to take care of here but it shouldn't take long." He noticed she didn't seem any happier and he apologized, "I know I've been busy these past few nights but I have a lot to reorganize and it must be done as soon as possible. You said you understood and I'm…asking you to be a little more patient. Now go on, go home."
Unfortunately, she didn't have the power to leave on her own and she couldn't let him take her there or he'd discover her past-self sound asleep. She grabbed his arm as he started to rise, "Cole…" He immediately sat down again but she was suddenly nervous about bringing up the Triad. What if he suspected her true intentions? She couldn't go up against the Source alone.
The color seemed to have drained again from her face, "Are you feeling sick again?" When she shook her head, he pulled her into his arms and he was surprised when she seemed uncomfortably stiff. "Phoebe?"
It was almost more than she could bear, to be held in his arms again. Source or not, she'd always drawn strength from being in his arms, from his love for her. "I've missed you…" she unexpectedly confessed.
"I promise we'll have some time alone once things settle down. But right now --" Cole froze when he suddenly felt the objects hidden within Phoebe's clothing after she'd finally relaxed and pressed herself closer to him. "Those had better not be what I think they are," he warned as he pulled back. She didn't respond. "Give them to me."
"No," she refused as she tried to scramble off the lounge. But she'd only managed to go a few steps before she was overcome by waves of dizziness. And she inwardly cursed the time travel potion again.
He quickly supported her by the elbows and led her back onto the lounge. In a calmer tone, he assured her, "You don't need vanquishing potions anymore. You're where you belong and you're safe."
"Yeah, right," she snorted.
He cupped her chin and forced her to look at him, "I love you, Phoebe, and I won't let anyone harm you."
"You're the Source!" she snapped as she wrenched her head free. "You can't love!"
"But he can. And he does."
"Why do you do that?" she complained. "You're the same being, Cole. The only difference is that now you're evil!"
"There's more to it than that." He traced the contour of her cheek, "Sometimes I forget just how young and naïve you are."
"You're evil," she jerked away, "I'm not naïve about that."
"Perhaps not," he considered, "but you don't know about the way things work down here. And, while you're ill and tired, now is not the time for lessons. But don't worry, Phoebe, I'll personally teach you everything you need to know." She didn't seem reassured, though, and he decided to reveal, "Cole still exists. Deep in the recesses of my mind, my very being, he cries out. Why do you think I made you my queen?"
Phoebe couldn't answer. Back then, she hadn't truly thought about what it was like for Cole when he was Source. And it wasn't something they'd really discussed after he'd escaped from the Wasteland. But over the past few years, in her weaker moments, she'd thought about it and had begun to question the truth of the entire situation. Had it been more than Cole being unable to resist the pull of that strong an evil? What if Cole hadn't simply become the Source? What if the Source was a separate entity and Cole had somehow been trapped deep inside his own body? Had Cole been hoping for her to save him? And did she save him by vanquishing him only to fail him in the months that followed as she watched his mental capacity deteriorate with madness?
Cole brushed away a tear that trailed down her cheek. "He loves you, Phoebe, and therefore I love you. The penalty for taking over a human I suppose. But, there it is, I can't reign without you. It's as simple as that."
"There's nothing simple about any of this," she sadly acknowledged. How could she have ever thought otherwise? It was never simply black and white for them. She and Cole had always been caught in the grey where the rules constantly changed and they never had time to think before acting and reacting, where they always seemed short of time.
"You can't change what happened," he reminded her as he clasped one of her hands in his. "I'm the Source now and you're my Queen. And you are carrying the first Prince of the Underworld."
"Prince…" she whispered to herself with horror. Genetically hers and Cole's but, other than that, she knew it had been evil. It hadn't been their son at all. In the space of a few weeks she'd gone from being a woman completely in love with her husband and baby-to-be to one so terrified by her own evil descent that she then rejected anything to do with him. She'd been too angry, too afraid, to listen to him or to even share her own fears with him. She'd wanted him gone, cut out of her life, as if that would've made everything all better. And it hadn't. She still had an empty hole in her heart.
"You will come to accept this new life," he told her, oblivious to her inner turmoil. "I know it's hard but with time you'll find this life more rewarding than you could ever imagine." He gave her hand an encouraging squeeze, "The Charmed Ones are broken, I'm taking action against some of the stronger factions, and, under my restructured Underworld, you will be my most powerful ally, Phoebe." He brought her hand to rest on her belly, "And soon enough, you will provide me with an heir who will know no rival."
She shrank back against the cushion. She'd anticipated asking Cole her questions, not the Source. She gave a bitter chuckle, what had Piper said earlier about not having available sources? She squeezed her eyes shut, brought her free hand to her forehead, and tried to ignore the way his fingers had begun stroking her other hand.
Unwilling to let the earlier issue slide, he repeated in a silky tone, "Give me the potions, Phoebe. I've already made the penalties painfully clear if you come to any harm while we reign."
She smirked and opened her eyes, "But it'd still be too late for me, wouldn't it…" She shook her head, "Maybe they accept you as Source but they're still undecided about a queen who, until almost a week ago, was a Charmed One out to vanquish each and every one of them…"
"Perhaps you have a point," he conceded just before a demon shimmered into the room. "What?" he angrily spun towards the intruder.
Appearing as a young human male in his mid-twenties, the demon, dressed in plaid shirt and torn jeans, respectfully bowed his head, "My liege, I bring you the news you requested of the assault on the --"
"Stop," Cole ordered. "Wait for me in the chemist's chamber where you will tell me the rest." He waited for the demon to shimmer away before he focused on Phoebe. "Minor matter, no need to worry you when you're not well."
"Or is that you don't trust me?" Phoebe wondered.
"I've let you keep your potions," he smiled as he leaned closer, "and not punished you for killing Larta or any of the others. I trust you, my wife." He kissed her forehead, "Go home. I'll join you soon."
Before she could react, he'd flamed from the edge of the lounge, and Phoebe groaned, "Now what to I do?"
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