A/N: This chapter jumps around a bit, and I apologise for that. I've had some rather ongoing, long chapters previously, so I thought I'd try and break this one up a little. But, before I get onto it, I would just like to give my sincerest thanks to Gilluin, for reminding me that I'm writing this fanfiction for myself and not the reviewers, my friends, or anyone else. Thank you for being my own little piece of inspiration (and for appreciating my typos) :)
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Chapter XI – The good in us all
Mackenzie was livid. His plan was foiled. He had been cast aside, as if he and his powers meant nothing. Well, he thought bitterly, I'll show her. It had been him who had turned her to the dark side – or at the very least, given her the push at the beginning that she had needed. It had been he who had taken a huge risk with his life with all their lives. It was his own foolish nature that resulted in him walking around the Underworld. He was an upper level demon, was he not? So why the hell couldn't he handle one pissy little witch?
He stopped pacing and considered his question to himself. He laughed to himself at his own stupidity. Because, he reminded himself, biting his own tongue, She's not a witch anymore. She's a warlock. And there's a way we deal with unwanted warlocks...
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Elsewhere, Phoebe was doing a little pacing of her own. She had left the dankness of the cave, after dismissing Mack as if he were no more than another flaw in her plan. She was now stood in a chamber, empty for the moment, with the Book of Shadows resting peacefully on a stack of dark stones. She had been looking through it to find not only something that she knew her sisters wouldn't be able to beat without the Power of Three, but something so devastating that it would let her take over the Underworld and, eventually, bring her wrath up to the world itself. She would show them what she was really made of.
But, first things first. She could hardly even dream of taking over the Underworld, or even defeating her sisters, until she had come up with a plan to do so. All she knew was that her answer lay in the Book of Shadows.
Her thoughts were interrupted by a presence at the opening to the chamber. She whipped around, her eyes narrowed. But there was nobody in sight. Her eyes darted from the open archway, made of stones carved with runes, to the Book on its own little stack.
"You may as well show yourself," she said into open air, her voice cold. Nothing happened. She walked over to the Book defensively, her back to it, as if she were trying to protect it.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a deep, booming voice sounded. It sounded like it had been carried by a wind.
"What are you doing here, Charmed One?"
Phoebe laughed, a cold, high laugh. It was so unnatural to her own, usual self that had Piper or Paige heard it, they wouldn't have thought it was their sister.
"You obviously have no idea who you're talking to," she chuckled, her body relaxing. "Show yourself. Maybe we can be of some assistance to each other."
The image of a demon rippled a few feet in front of her. His black face was etched with white markings – possibly ancient runes. His lips were thick and full, and his eyes a surprising bright blue. He stood with his arms folded flat across his broad chest, and he was standing back as if trying to see the witch in one full sweep of his look. His trousers and black t-shirt were ripped, as if he had just come back from battle. He didn't look pleased, by any means: but he didn't look as if he was going to kill her either.
"I see I misjudged you," he said at last, his eyes narrowing for a brief second. "Forgive me. Looks can be… deceiving."
"So I've heard. What do you want?"
"At first," the demon replied slowly, taking a few steps forward but not uncrossing his arms, "To kill you. But I see the consequences of that would far outweigh the profits."
His eyes darted to the Book of Shadows lying behind Phoebe. Her mouth thinned.
"I see you have large ideas," he said icily. Phoebe couldn't tell if he was jealous or wary. "Strange, for such a little witch."
"I am no witch," Phoebe almost spat, though reminded herself that losing her temper with a mere demon would be no way to control the Underworld. The demon chuckled, a deep, menacing growl that began in his stomach and ended in his eyes. He took another step forward, now only a foot or two away from where Phoebe stood. For some reason, her muscles tensed.
"What happened to you?" he asked slyly.
"It's really none of your business."
"Ah," the demon said silkily, edging forward. His eyes were level with hers, and the sparkled. "But it is. I'm a bounty hunter, you see. I seek out demons and warlocks to kill where I see necessary. And your head has a high price on it."
Phoebe shifted closer towards the book, her anger rising. How dare he? Did he really think he could take on a Charmed One? Part of her, the old part, screamed at her to run away. But she wouldn't. It was time to make a stand and to prove to everyone – demons, witches and the like – that she was set to stay.
"I'll tell you what," she said, finding her ground and stepping forward. "You go to your superiors, whoever they are, and tell them that I'm far more useful to them alive than dead. Destroying the Charmed Ones has always been your motivation and your goal; but now, I've done it for you. So you go and 'do' whatever it is you do, elsewhere, and I might just let you live."
Her eyes flashed maliciously.
"Bold words for a newbie," the demon growled, but he stepped back slightly. He unfolded his arms, revealing further rips and gashes in his t-shirt.
"I'm a quick study," Phoebe quipped. The demon raised a thick, black eyebrow. He considered the warlock for a moment, her hair gathered in a mess and her clothes rumpled. He then nodded.
"I'll be back," he said quietly, and then flickered out, his body flashing slowly with the surroundings.
Phoebe let out a drawn sigh. That was difficult to talk her way out of. She couldn't simply go about making a fool of herself like that, and she scolded herself for it. She needed to bide her time and gain the support of fellow demons. If she was going to be successful, that was. But, for the moment at least, she tried to put all nagging thoughts of just who had sent a bounty hunter after her, and turned back to the Book of Shadows.
As she leafed through it carefully, she suddenly came across a page that she had not seen before; perhaps a recent edition due to the Book's new change. The top of the page read, 'To bind a demon'. As her eyes scanned the parchment-like page, she saw that this was nothing like binding powers, as witches had used. This was much more. The corners of her mouth flicked up, and she had to try not to let out a laugh of pleasure. This would certainly heat things up for her sisters.
The page described how it was possible to 'merge' two or more demons together, combining their powers, their minds and their ability. You could combine tens of hundreds of demons all together, creating what would appear to be some sort of 'super demon'. An invincible, unstoppable killing force, whose main objective was to obey the summoner's bidding.
Phoebe's face cracked into a wide smile, her eyes lighting up with the fire of excitement.
"Oh, this is going to be interesting," she laughed as she bent over the page, reading through the requirements of the complicated ritual. "Very interesting indeed."
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"I did as you asked," the bounty hunter growled to his superior a few moments later. "And that's how she replied."
"Good," drawled the voice of Mackenzie, and he leant back in his seat. He brought a thoughtful hand up to his chin, a smile igniting behind it. So, the witch was useful after all.
"The Book of shadows, you say?" he asked eventually, casting a glance back down to the hunter he had hired. He merely nodded. Mack could barely contain his excitement. The Book of Shadows itself, legendary amongst demons, was sitting, freely in the Underworld, there for the taking. The temptation was almost enough to make him shimmer to it right then and there.
But he needed to wait. He doubted very much if it were possible to just walk up and take it, especially if Phoebe was keeping as close an eye on it as the bounty hunter had said. But his plan, so far, had been working. The witch was evil. She was embracing it with courage and hunger. She had already started using her powers. And hopefully, her sisters wouldn't be too far behind her. Either that, or she would dispose of them – they always held her back, and Mack hoped that she knew it.
It had been easy enough to trick that damned Elder into releasing Cole from the void and planting him back into reality. Blackmail always worked a treat, especially with those on the side of good. Possibly a risky business if Cole actually showed up again, though. But, with no memory or recollection of what was going on, the chances of that were pretty slim. And he couldn't risk him helping the sisters out for a second time.
Mack smiled wryly to himself. In a way, it was Cole he had to thank for all of this. Had the little do-gooder, obsessed with his witch, not been responsible for the thorn demons to attack the eldest sister, or been the one to help the demon Drake to become mortal, the entire of this shift in the balance of power wouldn't have been possible.
As a watcher of the Charmed Ones for many years now, studying their every move and every pattern, it had been lucky that Mack had heard Piper muttering about it under her breath. Cole's own foolish, selfish needs and wants to protect the sisters had caused more problems for them than he could have ever guessed. And Mack was thankful for this.
"Stupid demon," he chuckled quietly. "He'll always be giving Evil the upper hand, whether he wants to or not."
"Who?" the bounty hunter asked quizzically. Mack's eyes shot up; he had forgotten that the hunter was still there.
"No one of importance," he said, smiling. "Go. Keep an eye on our little warlock. Tell her that I would very much like to see her, to discuss plans for the future. Perhaps she won't be as likely to cast me aside when she learns I have some valuable information on her sisters."
The bounty hunter nodded, and was gone. He couldn't help thinking, as he flickered from one place to another, how incredibly ridiculous this entire ordeal seemed to be.
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Paige sat dejectedly onto the couch and heaved a sigh. The Book was gone. Her sister was gone. And Piper and Leo were arguing.
"They just can't do that!" Piper exclaimed, her hands coming up in an almost, but not quite, exploding motion. Leo physically flinched.
"Piper, they have to," he reasoned, putting a hand out as if the action would calm his wife. "He's the only one who can save – "
"Don't say it," Piper snapped back, her finger waving. "Don't say he's the only one who can save her. There has to be another way. Do you remember the last time we put her life in his hands?"
Leo's memory shot back to the alternate reality Cole had created two years ago, where Paige had been wiped form existence. His face didn't show the dismay he was feeling.
"We didn't. He took matters into his own hands that time. And it was a long time ago; I think we should probably give him some credit for learning something from it."
"Old habits," Piper muttered.
Leo sighed and cocked his head to one side.
"That's not fair," he complained. "I think he's proved – in the past, if nothing else – that he can change."
"Oh, I'm so pleased he decided to stop trying to kill us!" Piper retorted sarcastically. "Why don't I just put everything into his control and wait for it to come back and bite me in the ass? Oh, wait..."
Leo rolled his eyes. This was ridiculous.
"It's not even up to you."
Piper's eyes flashed him an angry look. Husband or no, he could be a real dictator sometimes.
"Well, it shouldn't be up to them either. They can't just pretend like his return is something to celebrate. Shouldn't he be put back into limbo as soon as possible?"
"It's not that simple. You can't simply 'put him back' as if he were a plate from a cupboard."
"Why the hell not?"
"Because that's not how it works!" Leo cried, exasperated. He and his voice were beginning to lose patience. "You, of all people, know that. All magic has consequences, and simply putting him back where he came from isn't the answer. And," he added hastily, seeing that Piper was about to interrupt, "Even if it were, the repercussions of doing so would have a tremendous blow to the magical community. It would be like trying to fit an oversized penny down the neck of the bottle – eventually, the bottle will just smash, leaving the world in shattered pieces with nobody there to clean them up."
Piper's face twisted into an angry glare.
"That doesn't even make any sense!"
Leo sighed heavily.
"It's a metaphor..."
"I know that," Piper snapped, folding her arms. Silence began to emerge between them like a growing cloud of smoke. Paige glanced up from the sofa, her eyes darting from one person to the other.
"So... what do we do?" she asked timidly.
"We wait," Leo replied, ignoring Piper's tutting. She stuck her tongue in her cheek and shook her head in disbelief.
"If they're anything as efficient with him as they are with you, we'll be waiting for centauries," Piper quipped, not looking at her husband.
"Okay," Paige said half-brightly, getting up from the couch. "I'm just going to... go make coffee, or soup, or... something. Leave you guys to it."
Leo waited until she had left the living room until he spoke again. His voice was hushed, as if he didn't want anyone but Piper to hear. She was turned away from him, but he knew she could hear him.
"I know this isn't how you would have wanted it..." he said slowly, edging towards her. She didn't move when she felt him standing just behind her back, but she didn't look at him either. He put a gentle hand on her shoulder.
"It's for the best. I wouldn't let anything happen that would put any of you in danger."
Piper turned her head sideways, fighting back the mountainous tears welling in her eyes.
"You already have," she replied sadly.
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"I had some help," The Elder replied.
"What kind of 'help'?"
"You wouldn't understand. Actually, considering your background, perhaps you would. But it matters not. I did you a favour."
"Releasing me from prison was a favour, yes," Cole replied, feeling himself tense. "But I was there for a reason. It wasn't your right to decide I had to leave, or your right to show me the life Phoebe and I could have had if I hadn't have 'thrown it all away', as you put it."
The Elder paused.
"Yes. I'm sorry. I was not entirely under my own influence. For that, I apologise."
"You risked everything to get me out of there. The balance of power, the 'grand design'. It's all warped thanks to a few moments of your selfishness and weakness. If what you've told me is true, that is."
"It doesn't change anything. What's happened has happened. I may not be proud of it, but I had no choice. And now I need something from you. We all do. You have to help."
Cole's eyes narrowed and his brain flashed a warning into his head. It told him not to trust this man. And then, the memory faded.
Cole and the Elder were locked in a fixed stare, their eyes unmoving from each other's. They were stood a few feet away from each other, with Cole trying to back away slowly. The Elder stood with his hands on the rim of the great, marble dish, and he was leaning forward menacingly.
"You don't trust me, I take it?"
"How did you guess," Cole scoffed, finally breaking their eye contact and casting a quick glance to the shimmering liquid in the bowl. He jerked his head towards it. "Planning to drown me?"
The Elder chuckled.
"Cole, if I wanted to kill you, I would have done it by now."
Cole's shoulders relaxed, if only a little. He felt so damned helpless, it was crippling. He was left completely alone in a world that was unfamiliar to him at best. His instincts were telling him to run, to cry out for help, to attack; anything that would involve quick departure back down to earth. But something inside him, the hint of curiosity that had been the cause of many of his troubles, kept him firmly rooted to the spot.
"So, what do you want?" he asked instead. His voice was irritable and tired. It had been a long day. "I can see why you took me out of limbo – to an extent – but what now? Come to send me back?"
The Elder shook his head, with almost a hint of sadness.
"As much as I'd like that to be my course of action," he said slowly, straightening up from the bowl, "No. Believe it or not, now we need your help."
Cole stumbled back slightly.
"My help?" he said, poking his own finger to his chest. "Why the hell would you want my help?"
The Elder frowned at Cole's profanity. Clearly, whatever or whoever had the decision of 'fate' – and he should know – had a very ironic sense of humour. How an ex-demon was supposed to be the saviour of the human race, he didn't know. But he might be able to help.
"Because you're the only one who can – " he began, then stopped. Was it safe to tell him? Cole shot him a dark look, almost as dark as when the source had possessed him.
"What are you hiding, Elder?" he growled, his voice dangerously low. The Elder almost shuddered.
"First of all, my name is Alexander. Use it," he replied coldly. "Second of all, as far as I know, you're the only one who can save Phoebe and her sisters from turning evil."
Cole snorted.
"You've got to be kidding," he half laughed, shaking his head. "No matter whatever anyone says, I'm no guardian angel. My time with Phoebe has taught me that, if nothing else."
"It doesn't change what I've seen."
"What you've seen?" Cole demanded, frowning and daring to take a few steps forward. "And just what might that be?"
"An Elder never reveals what he has seen."
Cole smiled as he remembered the quote about magician's secrets, and wondered if they were really basically the same. Illusions drawn out to amaze and astound an unsuspecting audience. Alexander continued before Cole could speak.
"Least of all to a mortal."
"If I'm so useless," Cole snapped, a little stung, "Then send me back to earth. After all, I suppose a 'mortal' cannot aid you in the ways you have... 'seen'..."
"That's true," Alexander agreed, bowing his head. "But I can show you some things. Step here beside me. You'll soon understand."
He indicated to the dish of shimmering water. Cole hesitated. Brief but prominent images of being drowned in a few inches of sparkling water bounced into his head. But he shook them off, figuring that his paranoia was redundant.
"And then you'll send me back?" he asked cautiously, nearing the water's edge.
"To a certain extent," Alexander mumbled. Cole arched a thick eyebrow, but peered over the edge of the water nonetheless. Looking back up at him he could see his own, confused face. He smiled, if only for a second, at how the years had changed him. His face was smiling and pure, while his eyes were alight with fresh enthusiasm. There was a look about him that he had only seen once, in between his transition from 'the great Belthazor' to 'The Source of All Evil'. He smiled wryly. How time could change a man...
"What do you see?" Alexander asked, craning his neck slightly to look, not at the water, but at Cole's expression. Cole's smile vanished, and he sighed. No matter how he looked or felt now, he could never erase the past. He could never change it. He could never make up for what he had done. And he'd learned that the hard way.
"Not much," he admitted, straightening up again. It was true; the man who had been staring back at him was a shadow of the man he could have been. And he'd thrown it all away. For nothing, it would seem.
The Elder smiled, seemingly having no idea of the conflicts arising in Cole's head.
"I'm not surprised. You are, after all – "
" – only a mortal," Cole finished for him, his eyes rolling. He shrugged his heavy shoulders, and then shook his head. "Yes, I know. I've caught on. For once, stop dodging the question and just tell me what the hell you want from me and how I can help."
"All right. If you want the answer with no explanation, I'll tell you."
Cole was shocked. It usually took more than an abrupt word or two to get something useful out of the Elders. He crossed his arms, indicating for Alexander continued. The Elder ruffled his cloak, as an owl might ruffle its feathers.
"Cole," he addressed, his voice and face sharing the same stern hint. "The other Elders and I have come to a unanimous agreement. To be quite honest, the only way you can save the sisters from this Evil that will probably destroy them, is to embrace a side of you that's been hidden away for centauries."
"My human side?" Cole asked instinctively. It was, after all, the part of him that had fought to stay alive for the past six or seven years.
"Not quite," Alexander replied, clearing his throat. "A little more intense than that. We want to make you a whitelighter."
