Rowan died on April 15th, 2014, at 6:57PM. He was seven years old.
Below is a part of their tale, as told by Jared to Lee.
That Putting Your Foot Down Thing
It was often said that telepaths were never truly children. Even in the womb they shared every memory, emotion, and experience with their mothers. Though they retained no conscious knowledge of this after their births – their minds weren't mature enough at the time – there was a powerful imprint left on the psyche of the children, inspiring in them a craving to re-experience the richness and complexity of those adult experiences.
Such was the case with Lee (and then some). The unconscious memories of his few months in Piper's womb would come to manifest themselves as an exaggerated desire for emotional independence, and a powerful need to grow up a little too quickly. Having eight older brothers certainly didn't help the matter.
Though Lee was a very brave little trooper when it came to facing his own difficult feelings, his desire to prove himself nearly always prevented him from reaching out when he needed a willing ear to listen. Luckily for him, his brother Jared knew a thing or two about listening, including when to break the rules of a 'good listener' (e.g. Let-them-come-to-you.), knowing that Lee would sooner push himself until he crashed, than ask another for help.
"Did you know," Jared said, as he stepped into the kitchen, "that Dylan has the perfect theory for finding you?"
"Really?" Lee asked, looking up from his midnight potion making. "Is it, when in doubt, check the kitchen?"
"Very close," Jared answered, joining his brother at the center cooking island. "It's 'when in doubt, find the closest set of pots and pans'."
Just as Lee was about to dispute the fussiness of the technicality, it occurred to him. "Interesting," he said, "That really is a better theory."
And it was…
You see, ever since Lee was a little boy, many a trip to the mall ended with his whole family in the kitchenware department, where Lee had run off to in the hopes of finding a new and interesting cooking gadget or appliance. Usually, by the time they found him, the youngster was being assisted by one of the department store's employees, smiling with amusement, and impressed by the little guy's knowledge of and passion for the culinary arts.
These encounters usually ended with Lee saying, "Mommy! Daddy! Look! Do you know what this (insert gadget's name here) can do?" followed by Piper's usual response, "I see that! Now you've got something to ask Santa Claus for." Though little Lee would often have a tiny frown of disappointment, he never failed to say, "Thank you Mister (or Misses) helper person!" before scampering off after his family, after Shane specifically, who would offer him a piggyback ride all the way to where they were supposed to meet the family mini-bus (or "Flasher", as they called it).
Actually… Come to think of it, Lee did forget to offer his thanks to a young department store employee once. It was one morning in mid-December of the year he turned seven (2022), and this little slip-of-mind bothered him for the rest of the morning and all afternoon. Tristan (10 years old at the time) suggested that they all bake some cookies to bring to the young man the following day. Piper instantly approved the family project as long as Wyatt (two months shy of being 20 years old) or Chris (newly 18 years old) agreed to supervise the younger kids (translation: as long as Wyatt or Chris agreed to stand close by with the fire extinguisher). Since this was Tristan's idea, it naturally included precautions of one sort or another. This particular time, he suggested that they provide the kitchenware employee with a variety of cookies; he was concerned that the employee might be allergic to chocolate, raisins, or peanut butter; it would be safest to give him no fewer than three options. Of course, this was fine by Lee; it meant he got to cook that much more.
The young employee would never forget that day, when a rosy-cheeked little boy with three colorful plates of colorful cookies, sauntered up to him and thanked him for "being so nice" the day before. It was such a bright spark among the dreary moods of the overstressed holiday shoppers, and the nastier the customers got, the more often he remembered the selfless kindness of that remarkable youngster.
Oh! And for those of you who might be wondering, the sparkly green tea kettle that had inspired Lee to temporarily forget his manners made its way into his hands on Christmas morning. The card read, "To: Paisley Halliwell, From: Santa". And, just between you and me, Santa's other name… was Steve.
Jared lightly nudged one of the copper pans that hung high above the cooking island, causing it to swing slightly. "Speaking of pots and pans, how are the ol' boys doing tonight?"
"Oh, I dunno.. Same as me, I guess." The young telepath sighed dreamily. "I'm sweepy."
Jared was well aware that so-called "creative speech" was among the first signs that it was way past Mister Lee's bedtime; moodiness, hypersensitivity, and a whiney sound in his voice were the others. The mental checklist had begun. "Sweepy, huh?" Jared echoed. "So, Snow White has eight dwarfs now?"
Lee rolled his head to the side and smirked. "Have you ever considered a career in stand-up comedy?" he teased, but without the usual enthusiasm.
Jared sighed lightly. "Ya know, I just don't get it," he said. "How come it's funny when Steve says it but not when I say it?"
"Because," Lee said, turning his nose up, "It's like Mom says: Steve is special – and she has the paperwork to prove it."
Jared chuckled silently to himself. Neither Lee's voice, nor his gliding, see-saw-like speech pattern sounded anything like their mother's, but it was easier than easy to imagine Piper saying those words. And say them she did… often.
Lee's eyes glazed over as he remembered. "I love it when Mom says that."
Jared leaned forward, resting his elbows on the countertop of the wooden island. "Ya know," he said pensively, "I think Steve likes it too."
As Lee's sleepiness increased, his mannerisms became increasingly childish, as though he were regressing back to preschool. "Steve's a funny guy." He exhaled with a hum. "Yep – He's one funny, funny guy." Had Lee been drunk (never happened/never would), that point in the conversation would've been the perfect place for a hiccup. Just for fun, he did it anyway.
Jared glanced sideways at his moon-eyed little brother. "Please tell me you're not using anything in that potion that Mister Rogers wouldn't approve of."
Lee looked down into his miniature cauldron (or so he liked to think of it), at the slowly bubbling brew. "I dunno." He looked back up. "What d'ya suppose his policy is on honeysuckle?"
Jared smirked with squinted eyes. "Oh I see how it is," he said. "We've got a little wise guy in the house tonight."
Lee shrugged coyly. "Don't look at me, buddy," he said. "You started it."
A relaxed grin on his face, Jared replied, "Yeah… Yeah, I guess I did, didn't I."
Lee kept his eyes firmly focused on his stirring and mixing, though his attention never left Jared's presence for an instant.
"Aaaactually," Jared said, having had enough silence, "I came down here to see if I could talk you into doing a little experiment with me before bedtime, but it looks like you're either too busy, too 'sweepy', or both."
Lee raised an eyebrow. "Is this a Tristan-approved experiment?"
Jared knew exactly where this was going. "It is," he admitted. "But, it's a use-with-extreme-caution Tristan-approved experiment."
"So it'll be almost fun but not quite?"
It was a most un-Lee-like thing to say, but before Jared could enquire any further, Lee said, "Hold up. Did you say bedtime?"
(I knew this wasn't gonna go well) "Oh, you didn't kn-"
Lee clamped the lid down on his cauldron. "Please tell me you're kidding."
"Well, no, but –"
"What time?"
Jared answered cautiously. "Ten-thirty on school nights, Twelve-thirty on weekends."
Lee threw his hands up. "Unbelievable!" he groaned. "Un-frickin'-believable."
Everything Jared knew about so-called 'good listening' told him to just allow Lee to rant, but even Jared, patient though he was, had limits. And the fact that a metaphorical bomb had been dropped on his family that evening had rendered his judgment a little bit fuzzy, especially the part of his mind that knew the rules well enough to break them. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, tonight I let you stay up 'til twelve-thirty, and it's a school night."
Lee rolled his eyes. "Excuse me?"
"Yeah," Jared calmly said back. "Tomorrow's August 1st. We have a faculty meeting at Magic School to see which classes we're each gonna teach this year. Dad said they already know we're coming."
Lee grabbed two clumps of his hair. "Do you hear how ridiculous that sounds?" he strained to say. "How can I be a Magic School Professor AND have a bedtime?"
"Look, all I'm saying is…"
"I'm a big boy, for gosh sakes!" Lee ranted, his voice raised, but not to a yell. "I stopped swimming with my floatees when I was four. I took the training wheels off my bike before anyone else my age, and it's not my fault that Dad kept putting them back on again – And it wasn't my idea to put that stupid unicorn nightlight in my bedroom and the only reason I sleep with it on is because I heard Mom tell Dad she couldn't sleep unless I did. Plus, she was just gonna turn it on the second I go to sleep anyway – And it's not my fault somebody has to write a note to get me out of Study Hall to vanquish demons on school days – And by the way, it was Steve's idea to put prune juice in the potions, not mine. I only did it 'cause nobody ever listens to him and he's always always right, every single time almost – I mean, think about it! When's the last time we fought a demon who didn't look at least a little bit constipated, even if only a little bit?"
Jared didn't dare say a word, partly because he had no idea how to deal with Lee in such a state. It had been so long since his last tantrum.
"And WHY?" Lee's voice grew louder, "Repeat, WHY didn't anybody tell me I had another brother, huh?"
On the inside, Jared breathed a tiny sigh of relief. The truth had finally come out. Still, he spoke carefully, "I wish I had an answer for you."
"And why don't you?" Lee demanded, slapping his arms down by his sides. "Or DO you, and you're just too chicken to tell me?"
Jared stood up straight. "Now where did that come from?
Lee threw his hands up once again. "Oh come ON!" he groaned. "Could you please just stop being Jared the Gentle Giant long enough to tell me that I'm a mistake?"
Jared took a solid step forward. "Who told you that?"
"Wyatt."
"Lee, that wasn't Wyatt."
"It sure looked like him."
"You know what I mean."
"You're right! I know exactly what you mean."
"Lee, come on, let's just --"
"Apparently, the only way to get any of you to be honest with me is for you to be possessed!"
"Lee, that is not fair," said Jared, feeling his limits approaching.
"Fair?" Lee shot back. "What's fair about being lied to by your whole family until your possessed oldest brother tells you he's a murderer and that you're a mistake?"
"Like I told you," Jared said strongly. "That wasn't Wyatt."
"He said I'm a replacement! And the only reason I'm here is 'cause the team needed a ninth player."
"That's crap and you know it."
"See, I don't THINK so."
"Then THINK again."
"I HAVE," Lee said pleadingly. "And I get the SAME answer EVERY time."
"Lee, stop it. Just --"
"THINK about it! If things had gone the way they SHOULD have, I wouldn't BE here!"
"Lee, that's enough."
"It IS why we're here, isn't it?" Lee said miserably. "To stop Rowan's death?"
"Lee, I'm warning y--"
"To keep me from being born?"
"Last warning."
"Admit it! You don't want me here!"
"HEY!!!"
Thunder clapped. Lightening flashed. A tremor shook the foundation. Then all went quiet.
To Lee, that moment of sharp, still silence seemed to last for hours. He didn't dare move or say a word. He couldn't even bring himself to feel defensive or upset, knowing that Jared, more than anything, despised being brought to anger, almost as much as Rory did. Lee figured that, if he had said or done something to make Jared that angry, then he must have really screwed up.
As for Jared, his lungs felt much smaller than they actually were, and it seemed as though something large was sitting on his chest. To breathe, no matter how shallow, felt uncomfortable, almost nauseating. Still, he forced himself to do so, and deeply, though it seemed strangely necessary for him to tell the air where it needed to go, in case some part of him might be neglected.
Jared finally spoke in strong, but eerily soft, measured tones. "Do not ever . . . ever let me hear you say that . . . or anything like it... ever again -- not to me, not to Mom and Dad, and especially not to Rory . . . Do you understand?" As he saw Lee's eyes travel to the side, Jared snapped his fingers in front of his brother's face. "Paisley!" he said firmly, but kept his volume low. The eyes of a frightened little boy looked back up into his. (I am gonna feel like SUCH an ass when this is all over.) "I said, do you understand?"
At first Lee couldn't get his neck to move, but he soon gave a quick, subtle nod.
Jared exhaled sharply, not sure where to go from there. "Look, I'm sorry if I'm coming down hard on you, and I'm sorry if I'm acting like a complete ass right now – but I really need you to hear what I'm saying here."
Lee nodded once again, a bit more at ease.
"Lee, there's not a single person under this roof – past, present, or future – who'd let anything happen to you, and we've probably got enough stubbornness in this house to make the earth spin the other direction."
Though Lee felt embarrassed, he kept his head up.
"And yes we're upset - upset that you never got to meet Rowan and he never got to meet you - upset that there were only nine of us running around making Mom and Dad crazy instead of ten," Jared spoke urgently, but kindly. "But I'll be damned if I'm gonna just stand here and listen to you call yourself some kind of… cosmic mistake." He paused, waiting for some sign that he'd been heard. "Do you get what I'm saying here, or do I need to go get your baby pictures?"
Lee gasped. "Oh please no…" he begged. "We'll be here all night."
"Yes! Thank you! Exactly my point," said Jared. "Parents don't fill up three gigantic photo albums with pictures of a kid they didn't want."
Lee couldn't argue with the logic. "But even so, Jared the math is all there. There's a reason the number nine is so popular in the world of magic."
"Lee, who gives a damn about the magic?"
"I do! We all do!" Lee said back. "We're witches. It's who we are. We love what we do."
"Yeah, well maybe so," said Jared. "But we love a certain bull-headed 15-year-old even more."
Lee squirmed at the mushiness of Jared's words.
"Hey, you're the one who forced the cheese, kid," Jared teased. "I was workin' just fine without it."
In one moment, a small chuckle caused Lee's shoulders to bounce, but a solemn air came back upon him in the next. "I feel so stupid," he said, looking down. "I've been trying so hard to prove that I'm just as grown up as the rest of you and here I am acting like a big baby."
Jared looked down as well; he felt a tinge of disappointment in himself. "You're wrong there." He looked back up. "You haven't been acting like a baby. You've been acting like a human being," he said comfortingly. "Trust me on this one. If anyone's earned the right to a mental breakdown tonight, you have."
Lee grinned shyly.
Jared spoke on, "I think it's pretty safe to say that this has been one of the… how should I say this… "least fun" days of your life, right?"
Lee said nothing, but his eyes seemed to agree.
Jared was quiet for a moment, thinking everything through, until he said matter-of-factly, "I guess I haven't made it any easier, huh."
Just as Lee was getting ready to disagree, Jared held up his hand. "Stop, it doesn't matter. We're not talking about me now," he said sincerely.
"But…"
"Nope."
"But I…"
"Uhn-uh!"
The Halliwell stubbornness had spoken. With a sigh, Lee finally gave in. A slow, comfortable silence passed.
"Jared?"
"Mm-hmm?"
"Please." There was a quiet, dignified pleading in the word. "Please tell me what happened -- I just -- I don't wanna be the only one of us who doesn't know."
At first, Jared said nothing, but took a good, long look at his brother. He wasn't sure which he hated more, the pain in Lee's eyes from not being told, or the knowledge that telling him the truth would only add to his sadness. Finally, he turned and took the few steps over to the kitchen table, slid two of the chairs out from underneath it, and faced them toward each other, a few feet apart. Sitting down in one, he patted the seat of the other. Lee nodded and walked over to join him.
Jared took a moment to collect the memories surrounding Rowan's death. It seemed that every time Jared had made up his mind to tell him, he found himself hesitating again, until finally he asked, "Are you sure about this? - I mean, I'll do my best to watch what I say, but I can't – I mean, there's no way to keep…" Jared stopped himself. He couldn't remember a time when speaking to any of his brothers had ever made him feel so nervous. He took a slow, deep, decisive breath, and said directly, "Some of it's gonna be hard to hear, and there's no way around that."
Lee pondered his brother's words of caution, knowing that they made sense, but unable to make himself care enough not to hear the truth.
"So I need to know," Jared continued, "Are you sure – absolutely sure – that you wanna hear all of this?"
Lee looked down at his lap, where he'd placed his hands. "No," he finally mumbled. "No, not really." He looked back up. "But being the only one who doesn't know makes me feel like I'm all alone, and no matter how much younger I am than all of you, I've never once felt like I wasn't part of my family…"
It pained Jared to hear his little brother say that he felt like an outsider in his own family, knowing that he shared part of that responsibility, no matter how innocent he and his brothers were in the process.
Lee continued, "And no matter how what you say makes me feel, it can't feel any worse than this… than feeling --"
Jared finished for him. "Alone?"
Lee nodded, thankful to be talking to such an understanding soul.
"You do know that I'm a horrible storyteller, I'm guessing" said Jared, lightening the mood a bit. "I'm very long-winded. I make Garrison Keeler look like Earnest Hemmingway."
A small smile came to Lee's lips. He knew of Jared's tendency to be a bit overly descriptive – he could never decide which parts to leave in and which parts to take out – but in this case, that would work in Lee's favor. He wouldn't have to wonder whether or not he'd been told the whole story.
As for Jared, somehow, he had always known that he'd be the one to tell Lee this story, though he never knew just why. He just felt it in his bones, and sometimes even deeper than that. Until now, he had wondered if it was his place to do so, but it seemed as though life, the universe, whatever you wanna call it, had given him the answer. Once he'd made his decision, he said kindly, "Okay then."
Jared took a deep breath and sat back in his chair, collecting his thoughts and mentally thumbing through his memories. "Let's see… I know it was around Easter, because we were all getting ready to go see Steve play the Easter Bunny in his school play that night. Grandpa had just moved in, and he was trying to help us all get dressed and ready, 'cause Dad was freaking out about being late."
Lee cut in. "Where was Mom?"
"Mom had already gone to the school. She was in charge of costumes." Jared grinned slightly. "Which, by the way, is why we've all had to be a bunny for Halloween at least once in our lives."
Lee scrunched his eyebrows. "Mom volunteered to make costumes?"
Jared bobbed his head from side to side. "More like Steve volunteered Mom to make them, which meant Mom had to learn how to sew, which meant…"
"Dad had to learn how to sew?"
Jared nodded. "You guessed it."
Lee shook his head. "I can't believe Mom just agreed to it though."
Jared crossed his left foot over his right knee. "I think the only reason she did was so she'd have an excuse to be backstage to calm Steve down when he wasn't on stage."
With a somewhat dazed look in his eyes, Lee asked, "So… Steve was a problem child?"
"If your last name wasn't Matthews, Mitchell, or Halliwell he was," Jared said with an amused nod. "Steve had a reputation for being a little outta control when he was excited."
Lee sighed dramatically. "Some things never change."
"Especially in this family," said Jared. "And since Mom had dealing with Steve down to a science, she figured it'd be easier for her to be backstage keeping an eye on him instead of someone who didn't know how to deal with him."
"He was that bad?"
"Oh, he was a nightmare for his teachers," Jared answered. "One of the first things Mom would ask his teachers when she met them is whether they preferred coffee or tea and what kind, just so she'd have something for them to drink when they stopped by our house to discuss whatever Steve had said or done that week."
Lee's eyebrows bounced with amazement. "I'm surprised Mom's let him live this long."
"See that's the thing," said Jared, sounding a bit amazed himself. "Soon as the teachers would leave, Mom would say, 'Officially, I'm furious with you,' but then she'd give him this huge kiss on the cheek and say, 'Do it again, and you're grounded for your next two lifetimes'."
Lee eyed his brother suspiciously. "You're makin' that up," he said. "There is no way that our mother would ever say…"
Jared raised his hands to plead innocence. "Hey, if I hadn't seen and heard it myself, I wouldn't believe it either," he said. "But anyway, Dad and Grandpa finally got all of us into the school auditorium, when Grandpa remembered that he forgot Mom's camera. And you know Mom's 50-pictures-minimum rule for any event involving kids or grandkids."
"That, I can believe."
"So, instead of having Grandpa go all the way back, Wyatt said he'd just orb back home and get it. Dad didn't want him going alone and since Chris was busy taking care of the rest of us, Rowan decided to go with him. And since Shane wanted to do everything that the "big boys" did, he went too."
"Ohhh," Lee said, his heart feeling a bit heavier. "So that's why they were here all alone."
"Mm-hmm," said Jared. "Arrow and Ari were in the same play, so literally the entire family was at the school."
"So then what happened?"
"Well… that's where things get a little fuzzy," said Jared. "Shane's the only one who knows the whole story, and there are still some things he can't remember."
"And Wyatt?"
"Wyatt doesn't remember anything about that night," Jared said. "Not until he woke up in front of the door to Magic School after we'd all gotten back home."
"Who found them?"
"We kinda all did," said Jared, with a slight shrug. "Dad told us to stay at school with Grandpa, but we could all see how worried he was, so we all orbed back home."
Jared's breaths became shallow, and his face grew pale. "The second we got home… This part I'll never forget," he said. "Wyatt was out cold, face down in front of the door to Magic School, Rowan was flat on his back at the bottom of the stairs, and Shane was lying right next to him, resting his head on Rowan's chest." He felt a shiver run down his neck. "We thought they had all died in some demon ambush or something."
Lee had so many questions that he couldn't decide which to ask, so he said nothing, in hopes that Jared would keep explaining.
"Grandpa ran up to Wyatt and eventually woke him up. Dad nearly strangled Shane, he was so relieved to find out he was alive." Jared's gaze slanted downward. "But then, when Dad tried to pull him off of Rowan, Shane kept saying, "No, Daddy, I can't. I promised. I promised." Jared swallowed hard. "I promised him I wouldn't leave him until his heart started beating again. Please don't make me move."
Lee couldn't bring his voice above a whisper. "Oh my god."
"He said it over and over and over again," Jared continued. "It took four of us to finally get him to let go."
As if by reflex, Lee asked, "Then what happened?"
Jared looked into Lee's eyes, somewhat hesitantly, "Shane screamed, and screamed, and screamed until he literally couldn't make a sound, his throat was so sore," he said somberly. "After that night, he didn't speak for over two years."
Lee's eyes widened. "Not at all? For two whole years?"
"Not a single word," said Jared, slowly shaking his head. "Mom and Dad didn't know what to do. They tried everything. They took him to several doctors, they even…"
"What did the doctors say?" Lee interrupted.
Jared sighed, wishing he could remember more. "The only thing I remember is that more than one of them diagnosed him as borderline autistic," he said. "Obviously he wasn't, but Mom and Dad didn't really know how else to explain to people why Shane never spoke, so they just kinda went with it for awhile. They figured it'd be better to let people think that than for them to think he was mute because he'd seen one of his brothers murder the other."
By now, Lee's jaw had dropped. "I just can't imagine it… Someone as opinionated as Shane is… not saying a word for over two years?" he said. "That's just – that's just not –." He shook his head. "That just doesn't sound like the Shane I know at all."
"Yeah, I know," said Jared. "Then again, that's partly the reason he's so good with his hands. Not talking opened up lots of time to learn how to build and repair things. It's also why he's a lot smarter than he wants people to think he is. He used to read anything he could get his hands on, from encyclopedias, to novels, all the way down to the ingredients on shampoo bottles."
It all seemed so surreal, as though the conversation wasn't really happening. "So what got him talking again?" Lee asked.
Jared exhaled sharply, not knowing quite where to begin. "Actually, a lot of things… It all started when Mom asked Shane if he'd give her a word for her birthday."
"A word?"
"Uh-huh," Jared answered. "She said it could be absolutely anything he wanted and that he didn't have to decided right away."
Lee couldn't wait to ask, "Did he do it? What was it? What word did he pick?"
Jared couldn't help but smile a bit at his brother's anxiousness to learn the answer. "He said, 'okay'," he said. "You should've seen Mom, I don't think I've ever seen someone smile that big and cry that hard at the same time." Jared looked down at his hands, and wove his fingers together. "Shane turned purple, he was so embarrassed… But he did his fair share of smiling that day too."
Lee felt a bit lost. "Wait. So, that's all it took?"
"Oh no, we all ended up asking for words that year," Jared said soberly. "We actually have Dylan to thank for getting Shane's voice running fulltime again."
Lee felt like he would smile, but something stopped him. "Dylan? Really?"
Jared nodded. "Yep. I don't know how, but Dylan figured out a way to use Shane's competitive nature against him, to get him to start talking again," he said. "All he had to do was to pick on Shane until he got so bothered that he'd try to match him at comebacks."
Lee tilted his head as he listened.
"Of course, Shane's comebacks were nowhere near as clever as Dylan's, but we all know how cocky both of them can get, and it used to drive Shane out-of-his-mind crazy to see Dylan strutting around, bragging about how his comeback was better than Shane's." Jared smiled slightly at the thought. "And since Mom had already opened the door to get Shane talking a little bit, Dylan just sorta broke down the dam," he said. "And when none of Dylan's little flashy catch phrases did the trick, there was one thing that always got Shane talking again."
Lee raised his eyebrows, anxiously waiting for the answer.
Jared looked away for a moment. It had been so long since he'd told the story to someone who'd never heard it; hearing it all again reminded him of how remarkable it wall was. "He'd call him 'Shane'."
Lee nearly flinched. "Ya lost me."
Jared allowed himself a little smile. "Up until then, we all called him 'Shannon'," he said. "Dylan only called him 'Shane' when he couldn't find any other way to get him to argue."
Lee was in awe. "And now – Now that's all…"
"…all he'll let anyone call him," Jared finished. "Only Mom gets away with calling him Shannon," he added, "with the exception of Dylan… but only every now and then."
For a moment, it was enough for Lee to get caught up in all the fascinating elements of the story, but it wasn't long before his heart felt heavy again, and his eyes seemed to wash over.
"Lee?"
He flinched slightly. "Huh?"
"What happened? Where'd ya go?"
Lee shrugged. "Oh nowhere."
Jared knew better.
"Okay, I was just thinking that… I dunno. It just seems like the whole thing is this big, ugly stain on our family history," Lee admitted. "But I never would've known… It's like… Like it never happened."
Jared had never considered this before, but he could see Lee's point. "Well, in some ways I guess it helped to make us all who we are." The words seemed too strong, too certain. "Wait, let me rephrase that," he said quickly. "It more or less taught us who we already were… So, I guess we knew who we were before most kids our age."
"How d'ya mean?"
Now, how to explain it all. "I guess a lot of it had to do with Shane and how we all treated him," Jared said conversationally. "Even though Shane didn't speak, we all found our own ways of communicating with him: Steve and Dylan would compete for his attention. Steve would make him laugh and Dylan would pick on him. I'd be in the middle of those two doing whatever it is that I do."
"Refereeing?"
"With those two? Yeah, most of the time." Jared gave Lee a subtle wink. "And then Tristan would get out some glue and construction paper and make Shane a card, just in case Steve or Dylan had hurt his feelings."
Lee's eyes seemed to laugh. "And did they?"
Jared grinned as he shook his head. "Not even once. But Shane let Tristan think they did because he liked getting all the cards," said Jared. "Ya know, I think Mom still has all those cards put away somewhere."
Just when Lee thought the heavy feeling had gone away for good, there it was again. This time he looked down, feeling a little ashamed. "And what about Rory," he asked sorrowfully, "and the others?"
Jared was surprised they'd gotten that far through the conversation without even addressing the issue of Rory. After all, he was the one who had lost a twin brother that day. "To be honest, I remember less about Rory than I do any of the rest of us," Jared admitted, a bit surprised himself. "But I do remember he used to draw – Rowan had a birthmark – and Rory used to take a magic marker and draw it on his own hand." Jared traced the shape of a long spear on the back of his right hand. "That way he could look in the mirror and pretend that Rowan was still there."
Though Lee wanted to hear more, he wasn't quite sure he could deal with any more of that particular side of the story. "And Chris?" he asked. "And Wyatt?"
Jared sat further back in the chair. "Dad says that Chris reacted to Rowan's death the same way Mom did to Prue's," he said. "Apparently Mom used to be the sorta shy, quiet, middle sister… A lot like Chris used to be."
Lee shook his head as if to shake himself awake. "I'm sorry. What?" he asked, his eyes open wide. "Mom? Shy? Quiet?"
"So legend has it."
"No way -- Nope. Uhn-uh. Not Mom. I mean... Mom? Really?"
Jared smiled sympathetically. "Blows your mind, doesn't it?" he said, using one of his mother's common phrases. "But when Prue died, Mom was suddenly the big sister, and they didn't even know about Paige yet. So Mom turned into this tiny little matriarch who could mow you down in the blink of an eye."
"Now that sounds like Mom," Lee said, sounding relieved.
"Don't it though?" said Jared, mildly teasing him. "So, according to Dad, Chris did the same thing: He just made it his mission to take care of the rest of us, no matter what it'd take. And he's been that way ever since."
Lee asked meekly, "You don't think he was trying to protect us from Wyatt do you?"
Jared felt a tightening at the back of his neck. "I've tried not to wonder that too much," he admitted, "but I think we both know the answer."
Lee hung his head. "Poor Wyatt… Poor Chris… Poor Rory… Poor Shane…"
Jared reached beneath Lee's chin, and lifted his head back up. "If I know Chris, he's got more than a few tricks up his sleeve," he said assuringly. "One way or another, when we get back to our own time, we'll know how it feels to have two full basketball teams: five brothers on each side."
This clearly concerned Lee a bit. "But do you think we could still get Mom to play anyway?" he asked. "Otherwise, we won't get to see her crawl all the way up Steve to get to the ball."
"Ohhh. Good point!" Jared quietly exclaimed. "That's the best part of Thanksgiving."
"And Dad still calls 'fowl,' every – single – year," Lee said with a sigh. "Oh Dad… Will you ever learn?"
Jared sighed as well, playfully mimicking his brother. "I sure hope not," he said. "Hey, maybe we can get Mom and Dad to play this year. Thanksgiving's only about four months away… and we're gonna be here at least a year."
Lee's face made it's way back around to its full-powered glimmer. He said nothing, but sat with comfortable silence. And Jared followed his lead, in case his little brother had any last thoughts to get off his chest. Where silence had been a burden, it was once again a comfort.
"Lee," Jared said eventually, "You know how when somebody dies, and you go to their funeral, and you want to say something comforting to their family, but all you can think of to say is "I'm sorry', but that doesn't seem like enough, so you try really hard to sound as sincere as possible so the family'll know that you're not just saying what people are 'supposed' to say in those kinds of situations… But, the harder you try to sound sincere, the less sincere you sound, which makes you feel like you're not being sincere at all?" He stopped to fill up his lungs. "Lee… I'm sorry," he said, with the simple sincerity he'd been hoping for. "Sorry for the hell you've been put through tonight… I can't think of anyone who deserves it less."
Lee felt as if the words had been sent to him on the shy winds of a perfect autumn breeze, a breeze that Jared had made just for him. "Jared, you know how, when somebody tells you they're sorry, but it's not the kinda 'I did this crummy thing so I'm sorry', but the 'Man that sucks' I'm sorry, even though they didn't do anything, but it's okay because they weren't apologizing, they were empathizing, and you really wanna say 'it's okay' to make them feel better even though it isn't technically okay, but by saying that, what you really mean is 'Thank you for saying so' and 'Eventually, it'll be okay?" Lee stopped to fill his lungs as well. "Jared… it's okay… I understand."
The older brother thought to himself, (Just when I think he couldn't impress me more than he already has…)
"Ya know," Lee said knowingly, "you're getting' pretty good at that putting-your-foot-down thing."
"Ya liked that, huh?" Jared said jestingly, "Yeah, well, I've been practicing. I'll tell you this, though, it sounded even better in the shower."
Lee chuckled. "Everything does, ya know."
"So I hear."
"Ya know what else?" Lee said, a tinge of guilt gnawing at him. "I really do like my nightlight."
Jared looked at him for a moment. "I know you do," he said with a small nod. "So… Think you might wanna give a second thought to that Tristan-approved-experiment I mentioned earlier?" he asked. "Or do you wanna call it a night?"
Lee tapped his bottom lip with his finger. "Well…" he said, "since it's a use-with-extreme-caution Tristan-approved experiment…"
Pleased with the answer, Jared popped up out of his chair. "How 'bout you orb us up to the roof then?"
Lee did a double take. "I'm sorry, what?"
Jared offered Lee his hand. "I said, I'd like two roundtrip tickets to the roof, please."
Lee hawkeyed his big brother. "Okay. Just as soon as you tell me what's on the roof."
"WE are," said Jared, "just as soooon as you take us there."
"But what's –"
"It's a surprise."
Lee stood up and folded his arms. "Okay, no offense, but if Tristan actually approved anything that takes place on the roof, with the possible exception of re-shingling it, and even then, only on a fully-lit day, with excessive amounts of adult supervision... he's probably running a really high fever, and we should really go check on –"
"Or," Jared interrupted. "Maybe he just trusts us. What'cha think about that?"
"Yeah, uh-huh. See, Not buyin' it."
Jared exhaled strongly. "Okay, I give," he said. "Maybe I'm leaving out a technicality or two, but I promise, cross my heart, hope to yada yada yada – the whole song and dance – that this outing has Tristan's stamp of approval."
"You stole Tristan's stamp?"
"Lee?"
"Alright, alright, I'll go," Lee relented. "but if catastrophe strikes, you're gonna be the one who tells Tristan. Okay?"
Jared nodded. "Such shall be my fate," he said teasingly.
"Seriously though, now that I've promised to go, what're we gonna do?"
Jared figured it safe by that point to let Lee in on the plan. "I just figured you might wanna take my powers for a test-drive."
Lee reached for Jared's forehead. "Ya know, maybe you're the one with the high fever."
"Cute, very very cute," he said, pulling Lee's hand away. "I just thought you'd be excited to give 'em a try, since you're gonna be using them before too long anyway."
The words were true. Since the day Jared first got his powers, Lee had dreamed of using them. "But what if I accidentally flood San Francisco?"
"Then you're better at using them than I am. I can't even do rain yet. Not outta the sky anyway," said Jared. "I have been known to move a cloud or two in my day though."
Lee gasped with excitement. "Ooh! And it's completely overcast tonight too!"
"Ya see? It's a sign."
"I just hope the clouds are the only thing I poke a hole in."
Jared waved the comment off. "Don't you worry," he said, "I'll be right there to take over if anything happens."
Lee stood and pondered for a moment. One point of interest was how confident Jared suddenly seemed regarding his powers. Ultimately, that was what helped Lee make up his mind; if Jared was flying high in the confidence level, Lee felt it was his duty to keep him soaring.
"So whaddya say?" Jared asked.
Lee nodded enthusiastically. "Let's do it!"
"That's my boy."
"Aww shucks." Lee started to offer Jared his hand, but took it back at the last minute. "Hey, why don't you try it?"
"Try what?"
"Orbing us up there?" There was an abundance of faith in Lee's eyes. "Now that you're in touch with your witch powers, maybe the rest of your Whitelighter powers have grown too! Don't you wanna be able to do more than just sense and scatter orbs?"
Though intrigued by the thought, Jared finally said, "Baby steps, Boo… Baby steps."
Lee rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Ohhh, alright, fine."
Jared tussled his baby brother's hair, just like their father always did after a long, meaningful talk. It was just Jared's way of giving Lee a little touch of home.
Once the two had joined hands, Jared quickly said, "Hey hey hey, just one last thing before we go."
A hesitant grimace landed on Lee's face. "Jare, I really don't wanna sound like an ungrateful brat, and if you could just pretend that's not what I've been acting like for the last half and hour, that'd be great… but I don't know if I can take another heavy conversation… And it's not that I –"
"Whoa whoa whoa," said Jared, putting his hands on Lee's shoulders. "You don't have to say anything. But I've gotta say this, 'cause I've been rehearsing it all night, so just this once I'm gonna ask you to just grin and bear it, okay?"
Lee nodded, a bit embarrassed, and rocked back and forth on his feet.
"Lee, whenever you start thinkin' that crazy stuff that's goin' on my list of the most ridiculous things I've ever heard, as soon as I find it?"
Lee's blush gave him away.
"Always remember that Mom never wanted to be a witch," Jared said sincerely. "Sure, she loves helping people, obviously, and saving innocents and all, but being a Charmed One isn't something she would've ever chosen."
Lee tilted his head. "Yeah, I know," he easily agreed. "I just don't get that. She's just so – so GOOD at it."
Jared clearly agreed, but said nothing of it. To do so would've been to state the obvious. And that was Steve's job.
"The only thing Mom ever really wanted… was to have a family of her own," Jared continued. "More than anything in the world… Mom wanted to be a mother."
Lee replayed the words again in his mind. "Yeah," he said with a big smile. "She's even better at that."
Michael Paisley Halliwell was born on March 25th, 2015, at 5:42AM.