Visions

Author's Disclaimer: The only thing I own are the ideas, characters, and concepts not cannon to the original Charmed series. Everything belongs to the producers, creators, and other persons entitled by law.

Author's Note: I began this story several years and I never saw it to fruition. I found myself recently attracted back to it with the 20th anniversary of Charmed just occurring. I hope you enjoy this story.

Summary: The children of The Charmed Ones face the trials and tribulations of adulthood, magic, and a new threat on the horizon.

Chapter 3: Recall

Parker Halliwell was sitting at her desk completing a patient file when her cell phone dinged. She reached for her phone and saw that her sister, PJ, had texted her. She glanced at the time and noticed that it was 3:50 p.m. The family meeting must have ended earlier than expected. "Call PJ," she said to the phone and it replied that it was dialing.

Moments later, PJ's voice filled the room, "Park?"

"What's going on? How was it?" Parker asked as moved quickly through her office and closed the door. "You know the same old gloom and doom. Henry had a premonition that Kat was going to be killed; she lost her damn mind, and Wyatt and Melinda apparently have been victims to a host of scavenger demons attacks as of late."

Parker rolled her eyes, "Naturally, Kat is the one to die."

"Yeah, she was all out of sorts about it as if Henry doesn't foresee her death on the regular, hold on a moment-," PJ rattled on before diverting her attention, "Can I get a large number 2, no onions with a water, a six-piece chicken nuggets with sweet and sour sauce, four apple pies and a vanilla milkshake?" Parker chuckled to herself. "You hungry, sis?"

"You have no idea. Your future niece or nephew is making me do this. I have no control," PJ countered. Parker Halliwell always disagreed with her sister's stance that the baby made her do it. Parker lived a vegan lifestyle and the thought of fast food was revolting to her. Normally, pre-pregnancy PJ would also be turned off at the idea. "Hold on another moment," PJ interjected.

Parker stared down at her phone and a few seconds later, PJ appeared in a pink flash holding her bags of food. "Oh for the love of God," Parker remarked with a clenched jaw and she looked through her office door to make sure no one could see her sister.

"What was wrong with just talking on the phone?" She asked as PJ slurped her milkshake.

"I was bored and I want to tell you what happened," PJ said as she moved on to her cheeseburger. "I know you have a fear of missing out," PJ continued mid-chew.

"I do not—that's you having a fear of not being able to gossip with me. So to recap, Kat is going to die at some point and Wyatt and Melinda are being constantly attacked. Anything else?" Parker inquired, reaching for her iced coffee that sat neglected on her desk.

"Yes, big news actually!" PJ quipped excitedly. Parker waited with baited breath.

"There is definitely tension between Melinda and Peyton. It doesn't take an empath to notice. The two barely spoke this afternoon!" PJ was giddier than she needed to be.

"That's the big news?" Parker was unimpressed. Parker often tried to avoid the family gossip and viewed herself as the more neutral party in their family squabbles.

Parker Halliwell, the second child of Phoebe and Coop Halliwell, was one of the more conscientious members of her family. She often took the middle road and served as mediator; especially between her two sisters growing up. The third youngest overall in her immediate generation, Parker fought for her place in the family as a witch. Similar to Kat, Parker was enthralled by mortality and enjoying life outside of magic but understood the important burden she carried as a Charmed-line witch. Boasting three distinct powers, Parker was not the weakest nor the strongest of her family but she had been known to hold her own in battle. Like both of her sisters, she has the power of beaming, but she also inherited the power of molecular immobilization like her cousin, Melinda, and her Aunt Piper; and the power of empathy. Unlike Peyton, Parker did not have the full range of ability with her empathic gifts. Her power was mostly passive in that she could feel and understand human emotions; her power has not grown defensive like Peyton.

Parker worked at a substance abuse rehabilitation facility as a counselor. After college, she earned a master's degree in social work and worked hard to help those who cannot overcome their addictions. Parker knew since she was a teenager that this was her calling after the death of her best friend, Mark, died when they were nine after he was struck down and killed by a drunk driver. Parker became a champion of Students Against Drunk Driving in high school and dedicated her life to the cause.

"Oh come on, you know this is going to end in a big blow out!" PJ exclaimed excitedly.

Parker just stared at her, "Are you more excited for the fight or the possibility of Peyton kicking Melinda's ass?" Her hair be dyed blonde, but she was no idiot.

PJ smirked, "Obviously the latter."

Parker rolled eyes yet again. The drama between the two cousins was a tale as old as time. There was always some level of competition between the two. Parker always believed that the competition dealt with who was better than the other because Melinda, Tamora, Kat, and PJ were all born in the same year, in that order; and it created an intrinsic fight for supremacy despite Tamora and Kat only having a minor role in the conflicts.

"They will figure it out—the two are close so I don't know you're going to get your big battle royal," Parker said optimistically.

"Whatever, anyways, how is your day going?" PJ asked changing the subject all together.

"My day is fine. A lot of clients but I find it fulfilling," Parked took a sip of her warm iced coffee.

"How's Andrew?" PJ asked, now moving onto the apple pies.

"He's fine. He's down the hall if you want to say hi," Parker gestured towards the door.

"And how do I explain that I appeared in your office and didn't walk past his office or have a visitor's badge on? Maybe now is the time tell him you're a witch?" PJ smiled attempting to get up and make a dash towards the door but was hindered by her stomach and desire for more pie.

Parker's eyes bulged and she pursed her lips, "I'll kill you the moment you give you birth! Sit down!"

"Don't get all hysterical on me, I had enough of that with Kat. Also, thanks for waiting for me give birth before killing me—you're so kind," PJ flipped her sister off.

Parker highly doubted that Kat was hysterical as PJ liked to embellish. Her mind drifted to Andrew. Andrew Martinez, a behavior therapist, at the rehab center, was her boyfriend of just over a year. The two met in graduate school and were fast friends and recently started to explore the idea of a relationship. She knows that she loves him immensely but the fear of sharing the family secret was crushing.

"But seriously though, you should consider telling him," PJ said sincerely while with a gesture of her hand moving her garbage to the trash can in a pink flash. Parker closed her eyes in annoyance.

"Because it worked out so well for you?"

PJ smirked, "Look, Greg and I may have broken up for a year because of it but look at us now!" She pointed to her stomach, "I am pregnant with his child and we are actually very happy."

"It's still too new. We only just started saying "I love you" and I don't want to add more pressure to him," Parker retorted to her sister.

"Park, seriously, if you love him then you need to tell him. I wish I had told Greg sooner and I am sure Henry wishes he told Nate sooner but this is our burden to bear for falling in love with mortals," PJ sympathized. She truly believed that if she told Greg years earlier the initial shock would not been as bad. Greg's true issue with magic was that he felt lied to for five years. "The lying is worse than the secret. Trust me," PJ smiled as she forced herself up and came over to Parker and placed a kiss atop her head.

"You're my sister, and I love you so much, but I want you to be happy," PJ whispered and then she was gone in a flash.

Parker touched the spot on hear head that she had kissed, "I love you too."

Wyatt listened intently to Henry as he finished telling him about the second premonition. His interest was piqued as he tried to make sense of what he was being told. The most intriguing the fact was that Henry had been hurt by the vision. "Show me the burn," Wyatt asked intently. Henry looked at him and sighed, pulling his school polo up over his chest. Wyatt looked at Henry's bare chest and saw the circular patch of burned flesh that was red and inflamed. "It still hurt?"

"Like a bitch. I put some burn cream we had at home on it and have taken some aspirin but it's still painful," Henry remarked.

Wyatt leaned forward and looked at the burn more closely. It was definitely the result of a fire ball, having received a few himself over the years. Wyatt reached forward and touched the warm, peeling skin. Henry winced. "I am concerned that you can now get hurt in your premonitions and more concerned as to why this one?" Henry looked down at Wyatt and their eyes met—Henry's eyes were full of pleading. Wyatt smiled and reached his right hand out and the burn began to heal under the soft golden glow of his power.

Henry immediately felt better. "Thanks."

Wyatt leaned back as Henry pulled his shirt down. "So there was nothing in the vision to give you a timeline?"

"No, I wrote down all the details but it was so dark. I couldn't even make out the face of the demon. The details are all fuzzy because I can only focus on Nate lying there dead in his own blood," Henry answered solemnly.

"Have you tried to recall the premonition?" Wyatt knew that Henry, at times, was able to recall a premonition to replay in his mind's eye to gather more details.

"All day. I have Nate's shirt he was wearing last night when I had the vision but I can't recall it," Henry said sadly.

"Show me the vision," Wyatt implored wanting to know more and how to help his hurting cousin.

Henry nodded and got up and went over the Book of Shadows that rested on its book stand. He began flipping through the pages to look for the all too familiar spell that he had cast numerous times in the last fifteen or so years. It was a spell that Tamora wrote when Henry was fifteen and couldn't always articulate his visions. Henry, though innately magical, had the most difficult time coming into and understanding his powers, especially his premonitions. His powers of astral projection and levitation were easier for him to grasp but the visions always proved most difficult.

Henry found the spell and brought the book closer to Wyatt. Henry had tried for years to be able to project his visions to others through touch, like his Aunt Phoebe, but the attempts were futile. He had just not developed that skillset—yet.

Henry took Wyatt's right hand in his left and chanted, "This witch's power cannot see the future as it's shown to me, with these words, I cast this spell, show him now and show him well." Their hands glowed and Wyatt's face contorted and his breath hitched—a telltale sign of premonitions—and he was pushed into the future.

Tamora Mitchell sat at her desk in her office at Magic School reading over teacher requests for curriculum adjustments. Her brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of what one of her teachers was asking for when she noticed her cousin walking towards her. She discarded the paper and smiled, "What brings you here?"

Chris Halliwell smiled at his cousin, "I came to pick up Addy." Chris was referring to his two-year old daughter, Adeline "Addy" Piper Halliwell, who was a regular in the School's daycare program. "Thought I would stop by and check in and see how you're doing, Ms. Headmistress." He was smiling as he took a seat opposite her.

"I am extremely busy today as I am everyday but that's life isn't it?" She remarked. He crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair, glancing at his watch. "Did you hear what happened?"

Tamora looked intrigued, "No, I haven't talked to Kat or Henry today. Who called you?"

"PJ. She said that Henry had a premonition of Kat dying and I guess she orbed out in frustration," Chris recounted what he had been told by his cousin.

"That girl is always dying," Tamora shook her head. She was use to her sister being the perpetual victim of Henry's power and she often wondered if her brother held some resentment towards her.

Tamora Mitchell was a stern, unyielding woman of thirty-one. She grew up relatively happy and loved her siblings above reproach but she found their desires for a mortal life to be perplexing. After high school, which she only attended at the urging of her parents, she immediately began an advanced course of study at Magic School. She ultimately began teaching potions and spell-writing fundamentals by twenty and for the last year, she has been at the helm of the School as headmistress. She was not surprised when her Uncle Leo recommended her to lead the school to the Elders upon his retirement. It was her birthright as a Halliwell to ensure the success and safety of the School as a cradle of good magic.

"Well, she left in a huff. I think Henry and Wyatt are still at the house doing research. She also mentioned that Wyatt and Melinda were attacked by scavenger demons this morning at the Manor," Chris continued while Tamora listened intently.

"Scavenger demons? Any idea who they're working for?" Chris shrugged his soldiers at the question. "Beats me," he replied. Chris Halliwell knew nothing of the scavenger attacks. "Are you and Wyatt still on the outs?" Tamora asked.

Chris looked at her with an annoyed grin, "We aren't on the outs. Things are just weird between us the last few months." Tamora stared back at him. "There's nothing really to say about it, we're brothers and we'll be fine," Chris continued unprompted.

Chris Halliwell was a complicated man. A devoted witch and doting husband and father, he always felt a need to push himself to be the best. He married his longtime girlfriend, Bianca, around the same time as Wyatt and had a child around the same time; as it was a competition. Regardless, Chris always felt somewhat inferior to his Twice-Blessed, all powerful brother and for no reason. He and Wyatt grew up in the same manner, their parents never providing more or less to either of them. Chris would admit that he was jealous of his brother's powers. Chris was born with the powers of orbing, telekinesis, telekinetic-orbing, and sensing; he was one of the more powerful witches in his family—yet it would never compare to his brother's power of projection which was a blank canvas and malleable to Wyatt's whims.

"When was the last time you saw each other?" Tamora asked. Chris had to take a moment to think about the question, "Maybe two weeks ago? We had family dinner at my Mom's."

Tamora nodded her head accordingly. She had often been Chris's voice of reason and sounding board. Their dedication to magic was comparable and their sense of duty was steadfast. She had the powers of orbing, telekinetic-orbing, glamouring, and molecular acceleration. She, Wyatt, and PJ represented the strength of the bloodline as the eldest of the three Charmed Ones. She was also the most adept at spells and potions by both training and profession.

"Well, you two will work it out, you always do. Did anyone make mention of what the Elders may have thought regarding the scavengers?" She implored Chris to stay on topic. While she was sympathetic to his issues, she often found it hard to understand emotional turmoil when there was always work to be focused on.

"It is my understanding that the Elders have no insight and nor does our family seem interested in their opinions," Chris shrugged. Chris and Tamora, both, always felt a strong sense of loyalty to the Elders; Tamora more so as they were the ones who appointed her to the headmistress position.

"I really wish they would seek their counsel more willingly," Tamora remarked with a hefty sigh.

"There's a lot of things I wish they did," Chris remarked.

Chris was dedicated to the craft and found his siblings and cousins' desires for a life outside of magic to be frustrating. He only worked as a real estate agent to provide for his wife and daughter; it was by no means a career to him, just a paycheck and benefits. His wife, Bianca, was a stay-at-home mom; she often wanted to work but did not have the experience to do so. Bianca was a Phoenix witch. Born a demonic assassin from the ashes of Salem, she was a bounty hunter and assassin for demons, warlocks, and even some mortals during her time; however, upon meeting Chris, falling in love, and getting pregnant, Bianca renounced her heritage and stripped her powers to become mortal.

"Anything else we need to know about?" Tamora implored, getting antsy to return to her work.

"Apparently, and this is according to PJ, but Melinda and Peyton are on the outs," Chris smirked. Tamora rolled her eyes, "The town crier is at it again, I see. Remember the time she thought Kat and I were on the outs?" Chris let out a hearty chuckle.

"And then you two were actually on the outs because of PJ? Yes, I remember, and so does that poor arm chair you set fire too," Chris said remembering the argument that ensued that resulted in Tamora and Kat getting into it. They didn't speak for two weeks.

"So PJ can take her perceptions and keep them to herself. I am not interested in her childish nonsense anymore," Tamora said running her hand through her long, brown hair.

"Well, I will leave you to it. I have to get Addy. Don't work too hard and do you want to come over for dinner tomorrow? Bianca would love to see you and you can hang with Addy?" Chris asked pleasantly. Tamora smiled her agreement, "Sounds lovely, Chris."

Wyatt Halliwell opened the door to his bedroom and found his wife, Maggie, reading a book in bed while their son lay sleeping on the bed. Wyatt smiled and kicked off his sneakers and crawled into his spot on the bed. "How was it?" Maggie asked closing her book and putting it on the nightstand. Wyatt was rubbing his son's head lightly as he slept.

"We are no closer to having answers than before. Henry had a premonition of Kat dying so that irritated her and she orbed off and then Melinda and Peyton are having some issues according to PJ and her attuned sense of drama detection and then Henry and I hit the Book to come up short," Wyatt recapped for his wife.

Magdalena, or Maggie, Nicolai Halliwell was a strong, independent woman. She was the daughter of Wyatt's family's longtime friend, Eva Nicolai, a Shuvani gypsy. Following in her mother's footsteps, Maggie is a resident doctor at San Francisco Memorial and runs a weekend gypsy clinic for the community; an organization her mother started more than thirty-five years earlier. Maggie and Wyatt grew up together and she was his anchor to the mortal world. Though innately magical, Maggie was not a witch and did not have inherent powers but she had a strong command of herbs, gypsy remedies and magic, and was the current holder of her family's talisman, the Evil Eye. With the talisman, she was able to conjure the power of optical eye-blasts.

"I have a lot of comments on that," she smirked, turning to her side to face Wyatt more comfortably.

"Let me guess, poor Kat that she is the victim again and hasn't PJ learned not to meddle?" He offered.

"You're smarter than you look, Wyatt Halliwell," she laughed. Wyatt feigned offense.

"So that aside, how is everything else? I barely saw you or Henry come out of that attic," she questioned curiously.

"You cannot tell anyone as I have been sworn to secrecy," Wyatt began, knowing that he can trust his wife inherently and she nodded, "Of course!"

"Henry had a premonition last night and he astral projected into future and saw Nate dead in their apartment and then a demon threw a fire ball at him and he was physically hurt in reality by the vision," Wyatt said concisely. Maggie's both hung open.

A few moments after the horrified look on her face wore off, she asked, "Is he okay?" Her hands clutching the talisman around her neck.

Wyatt swallowed and lipped his dry lips, "He is shook up pretty bad about it. He shared the vision with me through the linking spell—Maggie, it was awful. He says he can't get the image out of his mind."

Maggie just shook her head. Each member of the family had over the years been shown different premonitions through Henry and the spell, herself included, but to be forced to see the worst of the worst, she didn't know how he gets through it each time.

"There are no details that can help us pinpoint any timeline or what not in the vision; however, there was something familiar with the demon that I can't put my finger on," Wyatt spoke to his stunned wife. "The demon had such white teeth but I can't place him."

"Did Henry recognize him?"

"No, he didn't even notice the white teeth in the initial vision. I think he was just overwhelmed by Nate's dead body," Wyatt answered.

"What's next?"

"I have honestly no idea," Wyatt spoke solemnly. For the first time, in a long time, he was at a complete magical loss. "It will be bad and I am not sure we can stop it."

Maggie and Wyatt sat in silence as their son slept peacefully between them.

It was ten after eleven when Henry Mitchell got home to his apartment. The apartment was quiet and dark when he opened the door. He flipped the light on in the entry way and placed his keys on the table and hung his work bag on the hook. His heart was racing and he could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing at attention. He made his way down the short hallway and saw that the living room and kitchen were both shrouded in darkness. He can make out discarded Chinese food containers on the kitchen counter. He quietly crept to the bedroom and took a deep breath. He opened the door gently and saw that the bedroom light was on. Nate was half-sitting and half-laying on the bed asleep with a stack of papers on his chest, slowly rising and falling with his breaths, and a red pen in his left hand. Henry smiled and said a prayer to no one in particular thankful that his premonition did not come true—tonight anyways.

Henry closed the bedroom door and approached Nate, was asleep in his boxer shorts and a well-worn University of Alabama, his alma mater, t-shirt. Henry reached for the stack of papers and the pen, closing the top, and placed them down on the nightstand. He removed Nate's glasses and folded them and placed them on top of the papers and checked Nate's cell phone to see if an alarm was set for the following morning. It was. Henry could not help but stare at the background of Nate's phone. It was a picture of the two of them in Disney World. The two traveled there last year to visit Nate's family in Orlando and they took a day trip with Nate's nieces and nephews to the park.

Nate has a large toothy grin wearing mouse ears and Henry also was smiling with no ears as "He was too cool for that" or at least that was what Nate would tell anyone who asked. He reached across and gave Nate a chaste kiss on the forehead and maneuvered a sleeping man down into the laying positon, pulled the sheets up over him, and whispered, "I love you."

Henry quietly went into the bathroom and turned the shower on. He could see Nate sleeping from the doorway and he felt an emotional overhaul reflecting on the day. Tears began to fall and Henry disrobed and jumped into the shower quickly so Nate wouldn't hear the choking sobs that were to come.

End of Chapter 3

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