Discalimer: Sadly, I do not own Charmed, or any of it's characters. But Jordy Boy is mine!!
Summary: Something's bothering Chris, something big. When a friend from the future shows up, will it be enough to help?
Mwahaha, my muse has returned!!! Oh goody!!
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The Sixth Installment of On the Edge
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The drive to the Halliwell's was quiet, a content silence in the kid's eyes, despite Wyatt's sparse crying. They were too excited about the soccer gameto really notice. Adults tend to have a better perception of things as a whole, and Darryl and Sheila Morris were no exception to that rule. Their children may not have noticed the tension in the front seat of the mini van, but the lieutenant and his wife were no strangers to the wall between them.
On one hand, it was unavoidable that they go to the manner, to retrieve the necessary items for the infant Halliwell, and give his little lungs a rest.
On the other, though, neither of them wanted to pick up the old baggage that they always accumulated when involved with the three sisters. It wasn't fair to them or their kids.
When they pulled up in front of the driveway, they hadn't really known what to expect, but seeing both cars parked before the house, and all the blinds open was surprising.
"You think they're here?"
Sheila's voice in his ear prompted Darryl to push gently on the break and look into her eyes. He saw fear and worry, but most of all, he could see the instinct to protect clearly on her face. If something was happening inside, she would do her damnedest to protect her children.
Darryl turned the car and parked aside the curb, feeling the wheel scrape against the cement.
"It's possible," he replied, putting the car in park and turning off the ignition before taking out the keys. "But I doubt it. They wouldn't leave the blinds wide open if they knew something was going to happen at the house."
Sheila sighed tensely, but said nothing as she turned around to tend to Wyatt, who had started whining again.
"Mom?"
"Yeah, sweetie?" she asked, stroking the little blonde head of a cherub, while making shushing noises. Wyatt swiveled his head and gazed up at her with innocent little eyes, his whining ceasing for the moment.
"Can we come inside, too? I miss Aunt Piper," DJ said, imploring her with the puppy dog eyes that no mother can resist.
"And Auntie Paige and Phoebe," Michael added, leaning over in his seat to be seen around his brother.
Sheila hesitated a moment, glancing at her husband, who was making his way around the hood of the car to the sidewalk.
"Honey, I don't think they're home, so we're just gonna wait in the car while Daddy gets some things for Wyatt, ok?" she replied in a smooth voice that relied none of her uncertainty. Thankfully the weather was somewhat cool so they could do without the air conditioner just fine for a while.
Darryl appeared around the passenger side of the car, and leaned over through the open window to peck his wife on the lips, ignoring the "yucky's" of his boys. They'd get a taste for women as they got older, he knew and grinned.
"I'll be back in a minute, honey," He said, catching his keys in the air and pocketing them with a little jingle, making Wyatt giggle. He smile and turned, walking up the driveway, and trying not to look as apprehensive as he felt. He didn't want to worry Sheila. The boys would have no idea that this house could be so dangerous, but his wife knew the Halliwell sisters, and knew what they did with their life.
Darryl reached the porch after a slight jaunt and found the spare key hidden behind the porch light. Inserting the key into the lock, a tad happy that the girls had finally decided to start locking their door per his request, he turned the knob and entered the manor cautiously.
He would be careful. They had found out the hard way just how perilous it could be.
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Sheila smiled at her boys as she watched them playing with Wyatt in the rearview mirror. They were doing a good job at keeping the toddler occupied, and so she felt no need to disturb them. As long the little Halliwell wasn't crying, she was content to let them do whatever they wanted.
It was strange. Wyatt had never been a fussy baby, not until recently. Even the first time he had been taken over to her house to be watched over while the girls did what they do best, he was more curious than anything. He'd taken to crawling around the thankfully clean floors, inspecting everything that moved, and everything that didn't.
He was a naturally inquisitive child, unafraid of the unknown and not held back by any fears of monsters under the bed. Of course, he was too young to really know that monsters under the bed were something to be afraid of, but that was the whole point. He never seemed frightened by anything, or even the least bit unhappy in unfamiliar surroundings. He quickly made them his own.
Sheila's house was anything but alien to his blue eyes by now, after all the times he been over there in the short span of his life so far. It was disconcerting to her that he should be so inconsolable with her that nothing could be done to calm him.
She just hoped it had nothing to do with the sisters.
"Momma, when's Daddy coming back? He's been gone for so long!" Michael hummed, spreading his arms as if to illustrate his point. He got that from his father that was for sure.
"Sweetie, Daddy's only been gone for five minutes. You'll have to give him a little longer before—"
The words of placation died in her throat as she watched her car light up with a blue glow, and Wyatt disappear in a swirl of orbs.
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Darryl was approximately halfway up the bottom landing of the stairs, coming back down from Wyatt's room with a full baby bag slung over his shoulder, when he heard the most god-awful crash and a roaring of feminine curses. A whole lot of cursing.
"What in the world?" he breathed, barely able to hope that the girls hadn't brought their demon hunting home with them.
"Sheila, please stay in the car with the boys," Darryl whispered to the air, hoping his wife had not heard that noise, and if she did, that she had enough presence of mind to stay in the car. Making his way more cautiously up the stairs this time, even going so far as to reach for his gun that was at his hip.
The steps creaked eerily in the sudden quiet as Darryl tried to sneak up the ancient stairs. He silently thanked God that Wyatt was outside in the car where he could make as much fuss as he wanted. That child would not have given him a very good element of surprise had he been here.
Darryl dropped the bag at the top of the first set of stairs, making sure to set it down lightly. He stood still, listening for a moment, before creeping towards the second staircase, and slinking up the carpeted steps. He knew instinctively that what he'd heard had come from the attic.
"…are you?!"
The seasoned cop jerked his attention forward as Piper's angry voice carried over the silence, the faded end of the question interrupting the tense atmosphere the cop was feeling.Padding up the stairs to the highest level of the manor, he let his training take effect. Holding his gun steady in his hands, muzzle aimed at the floorboards, he crept along the wall of the hallway, every nerve in his body screaming that something was about to go wrong.
"…ask you again, whoare you?"
Piper's voice was clearer this time, much quieter, but somehow far more venomous and deadly. Darryl could here her as he snuck up on the attic door from around the corner of the hall. The door was cracked open a little, and he turned and made sure that no one else was in the hallway with him. He had a strange feeling that he had not been alone for a moment there.
Remembering that his family was in the car outside, and assured that they would be safer there if something were to happen as he entered the room, the LAPD officer turned back to the entryway, spying the back of one of the sisters—Paige it looked like, judging from the posture with her hands on her hips. The youngest Halliwell always stood like that.
Eyeing Piper farther in the room, he was surprised to see her hands raised as if she was going to blow something up. What startled him more was the young man he saw crouching a little ways away, his hand held up in the same gesture, though in a more surrendered manner. He looked to be talking to her, but his mouth never made any sound as it moved. He saw the man glance down, and following his gaze, Darryl spotted Chris, out cold on the attic floor. There was a little blood on his shoulder, and a small laceration on his temple.
Then it hit him. The other man was talking to the whitelighter, apparently trying to rouse him. Maybe they knew each other?
"Leo—"
The guy suddenly left the floor, cutting Piper's call short, and flying to his feet in what looked to be a threatening manner, a sharp remark on the tip of his tongue.
Darryl banged the door open with his foot, effectively cutting off anything he had been about to say, and trained his gun on the intruder, just as Piper had with her hands. The young man looked momentarily spooked, like a deer caught in the headlights of a large Mac truck. But he quickly schooled his handsome features and his face became impassive and hard to read. His eyes locked onto Darryl's, a hauntingly familiar sense of déjà vu associated with those silver blue eyes. They seemed to look at him with such familiarity, yet it was detached in some way, and it was confusing the cop to no end.
"Darryl?"
Phoebe's shocked voice filtered somewhere through his thoughts and he turned his head to see her to the left and behind him a little. There were a few potions in her hand, and Darryl guessed what she had been doing.
"What are you doing here?" Piper hadn't meant for her voice to come out so sharp and angry, but she was past her tolerance level for uninvited guests today, and though Darryl was a friend, he shouldn't have been here.
"We came back to the manor to get Wyatt's bag, and I heard you upstairs," he said shortly, his voice confident as he looked the young man right in the eyes while speaking to the eldest Halliwell.
"We?"
Paige's incredulous voice floated around the room, as if daring Darryl to say what she thought he meant.
Darryl remained silent, feeling as though he didn't have to explain his family plans to the girls. He was frustrated, and believed he had done what was best for his family considering the situation. He didn't want the sisters telling him he'd made the wrong decision.
"Darryl, you should take your family and go back home. It's not safe," Phoebe said, moving slightly towards the black man and motioning him towards the hall.
"Hell no, Phoebe. Are you out of your mind? I'm not leaving you here alone with this guy." Darryl was protesting quite adamantly, though he knew he'd not be of much help should something supernatural go down. He supposed it was more the principle of the thing. Not backing down in the presence of real danger. Not losing face again as he had a few months ago. He would not abandon the sisters again—of that he was certain.
Phoebe must have recognized his mentality, or felt something through her empathy, because she did not try to tell him again. She simply nodded her head and left him to his peace with a small smile.
"Darryl,"
The cop felt a light touch to his back, and smelled his wife's shampoo before he realized she's come up behind him, which was probably the only thing that kept him from turning on her. He had taught himself to recognize her in case a situation like this ever arose.
She squeezed his shoulder, whispering in his ear, "Darryl, I'm sorry, but we had to come in. Wyatt orbed our of his car seat. I just guessed that he came into the manor somewhere."
Darryl kept his gun and gaze trained on the people in the room before, even as he listened to his wife voice in his ear. He saw Phoebe's shocked look and Paige's concerned face when they saw Sheila appear behind their cop friend. Piper only threw an irritated glance in his direction, and then focused her glare back onto the man in front of her.
"Sheila," Darryl whispered as the girls turned their attention back to the young man before them, and bombarded him with demands to know who he was and why he was here. Piper looked ready to blow him up without even finding any of this out.
"Are the kids still in the car?"
Sheila sighed, her warm breath tickling the back of his neck.
"No, I'm sorry, Darryl, but I couldn't leave them out there by themselves. They're waiting downstairs in the sitting room."
Darryl was silent as he absorbed this information, and knew it was the best course of action right now, even with the threat of demon home invasion.
Sheila gripped his shoulder harder, and let out a harsh whisper, "They're really scared right now, Darryl," his wife paused to draw in a breath and he thought she might not continue. "They saw Wyatt orb."
The cop closed his eyes momentarily, his gun drooping the slightest inch as he let out a pained sigh. This would not be a good day. He would have to explain some things to his kids today, and then convince them everything was still the same as it had been yesterday when things had not been orbing away in front of their eyes.
"This is all fine and dandy, ladies, but would you please just let me explain?"
The young man's voice suddenly broke the unspoken silence, and Darryl saw Piper's hands snapped back into position, this time aiming a little higher from where they had slacked when he was still kneeling. She looked ready to kill him in a moment's notice if the irritation lining her lips and ticking her eyebrow was any indication.
"Why should we? You're a demon."
Piper spat out the obvious with such distaste that the man actually winced.
"Yes, you seem to be quite insistent about reminding me of that fact.
Oh. That was a good thing to know. His gun would do nothing to help the sisters now, but he still kept it level and aimed, ready to defend his wife should something happen.
It was then that Darryl noticed the blood leaking down his arm, and the slight waver in his otherwise proud stance.
"I've told you before, I'm a friend. You have nothing to fear from me."
"Leo!!" Piper called again, more agitation seeping into her voice than before.
He wasn't coming.
"What do you need him for? All he ever does is cause trouble," The demon scoffed, his fingers curling into trembling fists.
Piper sent him a glare, raising her hands to blow him up, when Paige suddenly called out, "Crystals! Circle!"
The pyrite crystal orbed from their respective box to form a small circled around the young man, effectively blocking Piper from vanquishing him and from him doing anything rash.
"Paige!" Piper whirled, fire in her eyes.
"What, we might as well get some answers out of him before we blow him up. He might know something about the attack on Chris."
"What, you think I had something to do with that?" The man's eyebrows climbed, even as his voice became incredulous. "You girls are even more dense that the history books say."
"Shut up, you." Piper snarled at him, even as she knelt down and moved the crystal in to give him a light zap. The smartass demon gave a surprised cry of shock and pain, breathing harshly when she removed the crystal.
"Tell us about the attack on Chris," Phoebe ordered, coming forward, nearly forgetting that Sheila and her husband were still present. Darryl had not so much as wavered in his aim on the demon, and he remained tense and ready.
"I told you before," he began, hands on his knees as he tried to regain his breath. "I don't know anything. I wasn't the one who set that up—"
A short yelp cut him off and he crackled with electricity for several seconds before Piper deemed it so to be removed.
"You know something about it, and we better find out soon if you don't want to be sent to the waste land."
Paige looked over at the attic doorway, hearing a slight squeak. She had forgotten that Sheila was standing there. Darryl could handle the interrogation, but she feared that his tender hearted wife would not be happy seeing this. The youngest sister turned to Piper, calling her name in an effort to placate her. She was about to tell her to stop when Piper spoke.
"You said something about history books before," she zeroed in on his eyes, scrutinizing him from the top to bottom of his soul. "Where, or rather when are you from?" Receiving no forthcoming answers, and regarded with a stony facial expression that betrayed no answers, Piper grew impatient again, and placed the stone closer again, this time for far much longer.
Some where in all the screaming, Darryl noticed movement from behind the crystal cage. Chris was waking up.
Before he could mention this to Piper, Chris had bolted into a half sitting position. He yelled out to Piper frantically, his eyes wide and pained.
"Piper, stop!"
When the eldest charmed one showed no intention of doing so, Chris surged to his feet and kicked out with his foot, knocking the whining, glowing stone away from the rest and effectively breaking the circle. Jordan stopped screaming and fell limply into Chris, smoke rising off his clothes. They fell to the floor together in a heap, lying there for a moment, breathing harshly.
Everything was still for the shortest of moments.
Jordan suddenly rolled over and crawled to his knees, looking at Chris as if he'd never seen him before.
Chris smiled from his position on his back and grinned tiredly up at his friend.
"Hey, Jordan."
The demon, Jordan, seemed to sag with something akin to relief, and he pulled Chris up to him by the back of his neck, embracing him fiercely. Chris held on just as tightly, his face disappearing in the other man's shoulder, oblivious to the gaping and suspicious audience filling the room.
Jordan pulled back and sighed, shortly, a disbelieving breath escaping him.
"You're hurt." Chris's voice was saddened and bitter.
"You're worse than me, man," Jordan smirked.
"Thanks for saving me, but how the hell did you get here?" Chris asked, his tone curious and just a little bit accusatory.
"Same way you did, sort of…" Jordan trailed off, his eyes sweeping over his friend's form.
"You have no idea how damn good it is to see you alive, Chrissy."
"Yeah, Jo, I'm glad you're here."
They shared a smile and something seemed to pass between them then. A kind of contentment.
"Chris, what the hell is going on?!"
Said whitelighter went pale, whipped his head towards the Charmed Ones, and opened his mouth. No sound came out.
"Demon!"
Chris and Jordan surged to their feet, backs to the sisters. Darryl and his wife crowded towards the Halliwell's as well, detective Morris's gun disappearing into its holster.
A large flaming ball of fire was suddenly streaming through the air towards them, a grim looking and surprisingly humanoid demon smirking behind its path.