Mack stood back in the chamber, his eyes alight with excitement. She truly was a powerful warlock. He watched, with a broad smile on his face, as Phoebe hurled fireballs backwards and forwards, hitting the targets he commanded. He had, of course, spent time on helping her to reach her trigger, but now she had started, there was just no stopping her. He grinned harder for a few minutes, and then spoke.
"Excellent!"
Phoebe turned around to him, only slightly out of breath. The power that filled inside her was spreading. She could almost feel it travelling through her blood vessels, reaching the tip of her fingers. It was as if someone had given her the strength and the confidence to do whatever she wanted to do, be whoever she wanted to be and feel whatever she wanted to feel. The entire sensation was beyond that of immortality.
"This bores me," she said after a while, her voice silky and calm. "I've kept my end of the bargain: you've had time to look through the Book, at your own will. Now it's time you help me."
"I thought this was helping you," Mackenzie replied, putting a heavy hand out and signalling to their surroundings; there were scorch marks covering all of the walls, spreading up and out like an eagle's wings. But Phoebe shook her head, her mind already on bigger and better things.
"I trust you've seen the 'to bind a demon' spell that's in there?"
Mack nodded, his eyes gleaming; he had seen a damn site more than that.
"Go and find some… willing participants."
Mack's eyes instantly narrowed, his suspicion flaring up like an allergy.
"That's crazy," he said after a long while of considering her, his eyes not getting any larger. Phoebe ignored him, and turned away. The Book of Shadows, which up until a few minutes ago had been in Mack's careful and longing hands, now lay on a small shelf in an alcove of the cavern. This, however, was behind Mackenzie, and Phoebe had a pretty solid idea that he would not be willing to give it up so easily.
"Just do it," she spat.
"And if I don't?" Mack asked, stepping forward, his muscles tensing. "What do you think you'll do to me, witch? Think you even have the power to – "
He didn't have an opportunity to finish his sentence. At the mention of the term 'witch', Phoebe had wheeled around, her eyes blazing a dark black, shimmering, like thick, black oil. Her mouth was thin and her face was colourless. She flung her hand out towards him, and with it, Mackenzie was thrown up into the air and cast against the carnivorous walls straight behind him. The jutted rocks in the side penetrated his back, and though he was strong enough not be vanquished by the force, there was a terrifying crack and his body sank to the floor in a crumpled heap. He was unconscious.
Phoebe's hand retracted calmly to her side. She looked around herself briefly, then began stalking towards the alcove where the Book was. She paused just beyond its mouth, her head looking down to the remains of the demon on the floor. He had told her he was the most powerful demon in the Underworld. He had been unmatched by any, defeated by none and yet, there he was, lying in a dishevelled heap on the floor.
"Interesting," Phoebe said softly to herself, looking down to her hands. "Very interesting."
And with one final look at the pathetic excuse for a challenge on the floor, she swept the Book of Shadows into her arms and began making her way to a bunch of demons she knew would not turn her down.
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It was dark behind closed eyes. Cole had felt utterly ridiculous, standing – yet again – in a circle in the sisters' attic. But his eyes were closed, and he had been told to concentrate. His breath was long and smooth. Somewhere inside of him, he could feel the beginning of everlasting peace and fulfilment. But it wasn't complete. So, consequently, he felt both completely fulfilled and yet horribly empty all at the same time. It was a strange sensation.
Suddenly, interrupting his calming thoughts, he heard the words of the spell float around him. His muscles tensed, but his mind relaxed. He felt as if he were swirling, being mixed into a giant pool of water. He was completely unaware of his body collapsing to the ground. All he could feel was a rush around him, a pang of dizziness, and then suddenly…complete and utter stillness. He opened his eyes, not knowing what to expect. It was dark. And he was alone.
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Phoebe suddenly stopped in her tracks. Her breath was cut short, and she felt as if someone had winded her in the stomach. There was something – some sort of disturbance – in her mind. She couldn't pinpoint it, but something wasn't right.
It wasn't the best time to become paralysed with thought. She had managed to gather the necessary ingredients for the spell she planned on casting. Five willing demons had become members of her 'to do' list, and they were all stood uneasily around a large, bubbling cauldron on an open fire, waiting for their command. Phoebe had the blade of an athame tipped to nearest one's heart. He had flinched, but was now puzzled by her sudden halt. He looked around to his others quizzically, whose faces were becoming dark with impatience. The powerful warlock had already shown what she was made of, so none of them wanted to face her and risk being vanquished. On the other hand, this was no time to play games.
"Is everything all right?" he asked, his voice shaky but annoyed. Phoebe's look snapped up to him, which told him quite clearly that it wasn't.
"It's fine," she snapped, trying to compose herself. She ignored the strange feeling in her mind and brought the athame up to her shoulder. Then, with all the force she was allowed, she began the first incantation from the Book of Shadows and plunged the knife into the demon's chest. He screamed in agony, writhing beneath her grip. And as his screaming echoed around the cavern, something stirred in Phoebe's mind.
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Cole looked about himself. It was so dark that he wouldn't have been able to see his hand directly in front of his face. Where was he? Could this be the mind that had corrupted Phoebe's own? It was as if he were standing on nothing, in nothing and surrounded by nothing. He turned around, again and again, spinning as if trying to see a difference in the blackness that took him. But there was none. No one. Nothing.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Cole felt something powerful move through him. An odd, white smoke ripped through him, completely passing him by as if no one was there. He was caught in its path, and was stunned for a minute, as he felt more pain and agony than he had ever felt before in his life. His body was rigid as the mist careered through him, knocking the very wind out of him. His chest felt like it was about to explode. A horrible feeling of breathlessness caught him off guard. But it was the hundreds of thousands of screaming voices in his head that made his emotions well up and explode through him in an excruciating scream of his own.
He was too distracted to notice that as the smoke was passing through him, it was creating pictures and a place around him. Within mere seconds, he was surrounded by an entire new world. Panting for breath he looked around, startled and scared. What had been dark and black was now, oddly enough the sitting room of the manor. He blinked once or twice, his eyes adjusting to the images.
Cole was standing at the foot of the stairs, it would seem, and there was no sound or movement around him. Had the spell backfired?
"Hello?" He called uncertainly out into the room, his eyes darting from left to right. He was still reeling from the sudden mass of feelings that had overwhelmed him.
The room, for a split second or two, seemed to turn completely black and bend towards him, as if it were falling in on itself. But a second later, everything was fine again. Cole's brow furrowed.
He stepped forward, his smart, black shoes echoing on the polished tiled floor. He put a hand out to the couch, feeling the soft fabric beneath his fingertips. At least it seemed to be real.
"Piper? Paige?" Cole half-shouted, turning around and calling up the stairs. There was no answer: no sound, not movement. Nothing. This was certainly very strange.
A voice from behind him startled him, and he turned.
"Cole...?"
In the shadow of the kitchen doorway he saw Phoebe. She was huddled together, her face timid, her shoulders hunched and her hands clasped desperately to her chest. She was looking up at him with eyes that looked hollow of emotion, and her skin was snow-white. Her voice was strangled and small, as if she hadn't spoken in years; it was almost as if dust and cobwebs had collected in her throat.
Cole's face softened and his confused frown disappeared. His stomach and heart gave a unanimous jolt, sending another stream of wilful tears to his eyes. But he kept them at bay, feeling that he had to be strong. The sight of the woman who had been so strong for the past years completely torn to pieces broke his heart, and it took all his strength not to let emotion entirely engulf him.
"Phoebe," he whispered, his voice soft with worry and – as much as he hated to admit it – love. If his face didn't betray how he was feeling, his voice certainly did. Then, more sternly, he strengthened himself and glanced around the still manor.
"What happened?" he asked, not daring to even move an inch.
Phoebe blinked slowly as if he had spoken a language she didn't understand. She heard his voice in her head like a thousand angry wasps buzzing at her thoughts, and she retreated a little into the comfort of her own shell. Even his presence in her own little safe world felt like knives cutting at every inch of her skin.
"I... are you real?" she asked helplessly, her voice choked.
"What? Of course I'm real," Cole replied, stepping towards her. She looked to him with terror in her eyes, her heart beating fast. She retracted away from him, convinced that he was poison to her. She huddled against the wall, praying that he would leave her alone. As she did so, the house seemed to bend inward again, flashing a dark black. And this time, Cole knew he wasn't imagining it.
He backed off, his hand out as if to steady himself. It must have worked, he realised, taking another chanced glance at his surroundings. I must be in Phoebe's mind. If that was the case, then who was the woman in front of him?
"I'm here to help..." Cole said uncertainly, not sure if she was even listening. Her head was jerking sharply from one side to the other, as if small insects were buzzing around her head. But suddenly, she snapped towards him, her muscles tensed.
"You can't help," she said tersely, her eyes narrowing. "You never could."
Then suddenly, her expression completely changed. Her eyes grew big and wide, filling with the empty remains of tears. She came away from the wall and put a hand to her mouth, making extravagant movements as she did so.
"I'm sorry," she said airily, fighting back tears. "I didn't mean that."
"Yes, you did," Cole coughed. But he smiled. "Phoebe, let me help you. This isn't right."
"Like you would know," Phoebe spat back, her eyes narrow once more. She jerked her head towards him, as if she were talking to somebody else. "Left me. Couldn't leave fast enough."
This was like dealing with two alternate Phoebes. But then, Cole supposed, that that was what it was. Her evil side and her good side, both fighting it out for possession of one body. He gave her a sympathetic, pleading look. He knew exactly how that felt, right down to the very agonising second where you know that you've lost. He wanted to help her, and he knew that he needed to. He wasn't angry with her, quite the contrary. But something inside of him – maybe even that little voice – told him that he should reply as if she were having a natural conversation with him: as if they were talking in every day life. So he did.
"I seem to remember it was you who vanquished me," he replied, walking over to one of the seats in the sitting room and collapsing back in to it.
"Hardly fair, considering you tried to wipe my sister from existence."
This voice was strong, and more Phoebe-like. Cole smiled inwardly; apparently, his new inner voice knew a lot more about success than he had ever learned as one-hundred-and-fifty years as demon.
"Fair play," Cole agreed, motioning to a seat next to him. "Are you going to tell me what's going on?"
"I don't know..." Phoebe replied, her voice wavering again. Cole sat forward, intent that he wasn't going to lose her again. He patted the chair not far off from him.
"We can sit and talk about it," he said calmly, raising his eyes to look to her. She was still contained within her own small space, but she seemed more relaxed. Slowly, she edged over to him and sat uneasily on the seat.
"What happened?" Cole asked tentatively. He knew now that he could not move to startle her, as if she were a timid animal he would rather not scare away. He had to override his instinct to take her in to his arms and comfort her, to tell her that everything was all right. All he could do was sit there.
"I was all alone…" Phoebe choked, her hands twitching nervously within themselves. Cole shifted in his seat, his eyes softening.
"You're not alone now."
"I know," She replied, her eyes flicking up to him. Her thick lashes moved slowly over her eyes, and Cole had to calm himself; that look she gave him always sent a shiver down his spine.
She looked at him and felt her muscles relax. His brown eyes looked back at her softly, sparkling gently like water from a bubbling stream. At a glance, Phoebe swore that she could see the entire universe swirling around in his amorous eyes.
"Something's happened to me," Phoebe said simply, not taking her eyes off of him. Part of her wanted to tell him everything, wanted him to console her and let her troubles wash over him so that eventually they would melt away. But part of her, the part she had been listening to for the past few months, didn't want to have to rely on him – on anyone – to pick her up after a fall. She wanted to fight alone. But she was grateful when Cole didn't interrupt her. He moved closer to her and reached out a hand to her own. Phoebe heart raced as she felt his warm touch.
"I'm not really sure how this start," she continued, sighing and looking down to the floor. "I just know that I can't stop it."
"Stop what?"
Phoebe cast him a quick glance.
"It's like I'm battling against myself," she said resignedly, not quite answering his question. "Ever day I have to find the fight to get up and start living all over again. I have to put on a mask of happiness and pretend that everything's all right, when all I really want to do is find a way to stop living the way I am."
Cole considered her for a minute, his eyes frowned.
"Stop living?" he questioned, his brows still furrowed. "That's death, Phoebe. And I can tell you from experience that it's not that all it's cracked up to be. I know that it's difficult – " he squeezed her hand in his " – but you have to keep fighting. You have to keep that spark in you alive."
"Easy for you to say," Phoebe replied bitterly, taking her hand away from Cole's grip and shifting away from him. "You couldn't keep fighting, could you?" She shot him a dark look. "You gave up."
Cole retracted, more than a little stung.
"It wasn't for lack of trying," he said slowly, his voice softer than a growl. "And it wasn't even me."
"It's about time you stopped blaming everyone else for your mistakes," Phoebe snapped, anger flaring in her like a swarm of bees.
"I'm not!" Cole cried, his voice rising. "What, you want me to admit that I wasn't strong enough to fight back? That I couldn't hold it together, even for us?"
"But you could," Phoebe shouted, getting up off the sofa with tears in her eyes. "You just didn't want to!"
There was a silence as Cole sat, trying to make sense of what she was saying. Did she really think that he had wanted to throw it all away; that it was a choice he had made? Though, from the outside, he supposed it must have looked that way. Yet, from what she had described and what she had been through, surely she, of all people, should understand?
"When have I ever," he replied instead, his eyes glistening and his heart pounding, "given you that impression, Phoebe? When?"
She bowed her head to the floor, feeling herself draw away from him. She didn't want this. It was too late to be arguing about a past that had long since died – and yet, at the same time, she knew that neither one of them could let it go. She heaved a sad sigh, then turned to him, tears making their way down her face. Cole's heart broke as she spoke.
"When you chose power over me," she choked, barely able to keep a strong voice. "When I stopped being enough for you. When you would have killed my sisters – and me – for your own vendettas. I couldn't keep you from it, Cole, I couldn't save you because you did not want to be saved. I could see you falling away from me, every day – before the source, before the Seer... before any of this mess even began. Or ended. It's not that love wasn't enough. It was. I know that now. It was me... I wasn't enough for you..."
She had to stop at that point. All the pain and the blame that she had cut into herself like a knife welled up as one final wave, and she collapsed into a sobbing fit as if the dam of her emotions had split in two. She felt strong arms around her, and was pulled into a warm, inviting chest.
Phoebe didn't know how long the two of them stood together, Cole holding her to him as if letting her go would mean never seeing her again. He laid his head on her own, stroking her hair with his hand whilst pulling her close to him with the other. She leant in to him, no longer afraid. She sobbed the entire world into his arms, and he stood there as patient as ever content with knowing that she was safe with him.
His touch still made her quiver, even now, and even when she would never have dared to admit it. He had been what was missing in her life, and daring to hope that he might be back was both immensely exciting and frightening. She couldn't bear to go through the pain of their love all over again – not when she had fought so hard to get over it.
Slowly, reluctantly, she pulled back ever so slightly from him. His hand was still on her back, and as she moved, his second moved to cup her cheek in his hand. His thumb moved idly from side to side, caressing her soft skin. They looked in to each other for what seemed like an eternity, each terrified of the future and what to do next. Then Phoebe looked away, and moved out of his reach all together.
"We can't get into this..." she said, her voice cracking. She was speaking through broken breaths. Cole tipped his head to the side.
"I know," he said gently. "At least, not now. Right now, we need to work on a way of getting you back."
"What do you mean?" Phoebe's look was more than questioning.
"Well," Cole half-laughed, "You're not exactly on the easiest reachable terms right now."
"It was just so easy..." Phoebe sighed, walking away and to the bottom of the stairs. "I could hide away from everything. It was everything I always wanted."
"Being Evil?"
Phoebe shook her head, then seemed to give up.
"No – yes – maybe..."
He walked to her softly, his feet light on the carpeted floor.
"Phoebe, as long as I've known you, you've never wanted that," he said, stopping a few inches from her. She didn't turn when she replied.
"People change."
"Yes, their favourite colours, favourite foods, or maybe even how they want to live – but you can't change who you are."
"Why not?" Phoebe questioned, pretending that she was talking the stairs: she didn't want to have to look Cole in the face. "You did."
There was a pause as he considered her.
"Whether I've been Good, Evil, the Source, a demon... I'm still myself. I still live and love the same things, and nothing can change how I feel. Not really. And it's the same for you, if you'll just believe it."
"I've got nothing to believe in any more," Phoebe replied, with a hint of sadness in her voice. "I give up living with consequences – I've lost too much."
"Perhaps. But you'll lose more now than you ever have – or will. Don't you see? You'll throw everything away that you've been fighting for, everything that you've been trying to protect for the last seven years."
"I don't care," she snapped bitterly.
"Yes you do," Cole urged, daring to put a hand on her shoulder. She didn't flinch. "I know you do, because I can still see it. That's why I – I still love you."
Phoebe's heart gave a jolt, and her stomach clenched. Even after all these years, those little words from his mouth still made her giddy.
"How?" she asked pathetically. "How can you still love me?"
"Because whatever you do, whatever you say and whoever you say you are, I will always be here to protect you – "
"You sound like Leo," Phoebe interrupted, disgusted. Cole's mind flashed a warning to him – he was losing her. "Do what's best for both of us, and go back to my sisters. They'll need you for what's coming."
"Why?" Cole asked, unable to hide the desperation in his voice. "What's coming?"
At this, Phoebe turned to him and looked him straight in the eye. He was more than a little shocked to see that the empathy and feeling that was there before had now seemingly evaporated.
"A bigger threat than any of you could imagine." She sounded almost smug. "And now you need to go."
"I'm not going anywhere," Cole said determinedly, his eyes firing up.
"Fine," Phoebe shrugged. "Then you'll stay here with me, and probably die a slow – painful – death."
"That's enough!" Cole snapped, taking her hand in his. He practically had to force his grip around hers, and though she fought, he held it firm. "Paige!" he shouted to the ceiling. "Piper!"
Phoebe giggled.
"They can't hear you."
"I'll be damned if I'm going to let you throw away everything you've ever cared for," Cole almost spat. "Including me. Now, I've been pretty patient with you up until now – and, granted, I'll probably have some explaining to do when we sort everything out. But you are not going to go down without a fight. Whatever it is you're running from, we can face it. Together."
His words, though brutal, moved her. She felt something stir inside of her, a want to keep fighting. She didn't want to give up on life, or on love. She just didn't have to want to face it alone.
"You're not alone," Cole whispered into her ear, as though he could read her thoughts. "I'm back for the long haul, and I'm not going anywhere."
He let go of her hand, but she didn't move from him.
"How can you be so confident?"
It was a pleading question, and Cole knew the exact answer.
"Because you never let me give up. What I did – what we went through – it wasn't your fault. And I didn't give up on any of it. I always strived to be Good, even when I was knocked down time and time again. And right now, I need you to do the same for me. I need you to stand up and have the courage to say you can do it. Because what you're feeling right now, that agonising pain of being in two minds – two worlds, almost – is going to rip you apart if you don't make a decision. So what is it, Phoebe? Good or Evil?"
It was one hell of an ultimatum. Phoebe looked up to him, and around the manifestation of her mind. It was so easy to live for herself without caring about others. But it was also completely against her nature. She could deal with being the most powerful warlock on the Underworld. She could deal with the pain she would cause the innocents. She could even deal with loosing her sisters. But it wasn't worth it. How could a lifetime of consequence free actions possibly balance out to giving up everything that she had known to be safe and right?
"I'm ready," Phoebe said at last, her voice strong. She slipped her hand inside Cole's, and their fingers linked. The happiness in his heart poured out of him in a smile, though they were far from out of the woods yet. "I don't want to run anymore."
He tightened his hand around hers, felt her warmth spreading through him, and he knew that something had changed. As white orbs began to swirl around the couple, Phoebe huddled into his shoulder and knew that this was for forever. In a voice little more than a whisper, she spoke.
"I knew you'd save me."
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A/N: Really have to apologise for entire week it took to write this. What with suffering from a cold, attempting to catch up with overdue work and generally starved of inspiration, it took me a little longer than I hoped it would. I'll be going away on holiday, and though I will be writing, it won't be uploaded until at least next wednesday. No biggie, though, I'm sure no one will miss it :P
littlehollyleaf: sorry it took such a long time... I'll try and get some more in quickly, just for you ;)
