AN: Sorry for the delay on this chapter. I've been out of the country for the past few weeks, and so have had limited access to internet (and time to write). Hopefully I can get the next couple chapters up a bit more quickly.

Chapter Seventeen: Half Truths and Lies

Dying was a miserable experience.

Well, perhaps not always. Some deaths might be peaceful, even quick and painless, but that was not the death that Luke had experienced. His had been slow and painful – he supposed that death by fire always was.

It had been during the riots in Germany in 1542, what historians now referred to as part of the Protestant Reformation. He'd been an innocent bystander caught up in the hysteria, imprisoned on the accusation of heretical beliefs, and burned at the stake. It had not been pleasant.

And what had followed death had not been easy, either.

It was impossible to describe the situation to anyone who had not actually undergone the experience of death. The confusion, the fear, the anger… the feeling of being completely lost, of no longer belonging anywhere, of not really knowing if he was still the same person he had been during life.

He'd woken up surrounded by white mist and people in robes, and had initially thought that he'd come to heaven.

Then he'd met Darius.

It was rare, Darius had told him, for a non-magical mortal to become an Elder after death. In the 460 years since his death, Luke had come to realize how correct Darius was in this assessment: only four others had joined the ranks of the Elders this way.

For the first few decades after his death, Luke had felt disoriented. He'd drifted through his own existence, watching as those he had left behind – a wife and three children, four brothers and a sister, friends – grieved for his lost life, but then moved past his death and continued to live their own lives. He'd watched them in bitter silence, angry that he couldn't join them again. He'd felt stuck, trapped… expected to help guide and protect witches that he didn't know, had never even met, but unable to reach out to those he actually loved.

And his religion had always taught him that witches were evil.

Changing his mind on that had taken time and a substantial adjustment in his understanding of the world.

The other Elders had pushed and prodded – sometimes gently and sometimes with great force – until he slowly let go of his resentment and allowed them to give his existence some kind of purpose. In a way, that had saved him: without purpose, he would have slowly gone crazy.

It had taken a few more decades for him to feel comfortable here, to feel as though he belonged. But on Earth his wife died, and then his brothers and sister, his friends, his children… and he created a new existence and a new identity for himself.

He became an Elder in more than just name, and the other Elders became his family, and the magical community became his children, and protecting the world became his life's purpose.

But over the centuries, the world had changed around him.

And now, before his very eyes, his family had turned on itself.

Luke stumbled out of the room on shaky feet. Leo's anger and rage during the trial had been palpable. Luke had understood that rage, even if he didn't agree with it. But he'd had biological children once, too, and even if that had been centuries ago, he did understand.

If Gideon had threatened one of his children, what would he have done?

He closed his eyes, feeling his stomach turn over and bile rise in his throat. He doubted he would have struck a deal with Lucifer. No matter how much he loved his children, he just couldn't imagine being that desperate.

But he didn't even know the terms of Leo's deal with Lucifer. Perhaps Leo had been telling the truth and…

No. He cut off that line of thought immediately, unwilling to give in to temptation. He couldn't begin to trust Leo, couldn't entertain the possibility that the other Elder hadn't been corrupted, because that would be tantamount to trusting Lucifer, and that would be a disaster.

And yet…

He shook his head. There had only been a few Elders at the trial, and a quick look at all their faces once it was over had convinced him that he was the only one who had doubts.

But he did have doubts.

A hand rested heavily on his shoulders and he opened his eyes to find Michael staring at him gravely.

"It had to be done," Michael said. Luke inclined his head but did not reply.

It had to be done was not an uncommon saying among the Elders. But it rarely applied to something so drastic, and Luke couldn't help but feel that it sounded trite and insincere in the face of what had just happened. Did Michael hear that, too? Did he realize how lightly he had just dismissed the life of another Elder?

Did he care?

Michael was still staring at him, waiting for some sort of response, but Luke had nothing to give. His throat and mouth felt suddenly dry, and he doubted he'd be able to speak even if he wanted to.

He was fortunately saved from having to offer any sort of answer by Darius, who appeared and beckoned Michael over. Michael obediently hurried to join the older Elder, but not before giving Luke one last searching look.

Luke couldn't tear himself away from his conflicted thoughts. He believed in the Elders. He'd seen the good they did. They were arrogant, yes, and heavy-handed in their dealings with those who disagreed with them, but they were good. They cared for the world, perhaps more than even the oldest of white-lighters fully recognized. They truly viewed all good witches as their children, and were daily faced with the impossible task of determining when a witch was passed redemption.

And some witches did turn. Some became evil, and had to be vanquished, and losing them never got easier. But there was a bigger picture, one that most people never took the time to see, and Luke knew that part of being an Elder was figuring out how to reconcile the importance of individual lives with the need to protect the entire world.

Sometimes the Elders leaned too far in one direction, sometimes they leaned too far in the other… but the real issue, Luke reflected, was how to figure out when they had crossed a line.

Phoebe glanced up from the spell she was writing as bright blue and white lights filled up the attic. Her heart leapt into her throat in naively optimistic anticipation, but then plummeted the moment she realized it wasn't Leo. She should have known better; she'd been at this long enough to know that nothing would ever be that easy.

There were two beings standing before her. The younger of the two – dressed in traditional white-lighter robes – looked around nervously, almost as though she was expecting to be attacked. The older one – wearing the golden robes of an Elder – also had a sense of wariness in his expression, though he seemed more calm than his companion.

Phoebe directed her attention to the Elder and asked with as much venom as she could fit into her voice, "What do you want?"

Only after the words had left her mouth did it occur to her that perhaps she should have said something else, or possibly said nothing at all. Engaging with the Elder was certainly not a good idea, particularly because Piper and Paige were both on the floor below, leaving her alone to face someone more powerful than she was… but it wasn't as though she could ignore the presence of the two beings.

"Where are your sisters?" the Elder asked.

"Why?" Phoebe demanded. She could sense apprehension from both of them, but the white-lighter was also exuding a very strange blend of doubt and determination. It pressed against her mind, its intensity giving her the beginnings of a headache.

God, she hated this power. She couldn't deny the usefulness of her empathy, but why did it have to come with migraines?

"The Elders are going to come after you," the white-lighter said. She blurted out the words, almost as though she was afraid that if she didn't say them now, she would lose her nerve. As her statement echoed in the silence of the attic, she lifted one hand to cover her mouth. It stayed there, suspended in mid-air for a moment, then she dropped it to her side and looked away.

Phoebe frowned. "We know," she said coolly, her gaze flicking back and forth between the two. "Why are you telling me this?" She paused, then asked with a hint of derision, "Have you come to gloat?"

"You don't have a lot of time," the Elder said, ignoring her questions. "The other Elders won't move against you quite yet – they're still discussing the best course of action."

That didn't surprise Phoebe at all. Of course the Elders would feel the need to discuss everything, to hold meetings and debate the finer points of their plans. It seemed that they never moved quickly enough on anything, and while that had frustrated her many times in the past, she wondered vaguely if it would be the only thing that could save them now.

"You will need to hide from them," the Elder continued. "You don't have many options. I suggest using fairy dust to block yourselves. It is probably your best chance at avoiding detection." He glanced up quickly, towards the ceiling, towards Up There, then turned to the white-lighter next to him and said, "We should go."

The woman nodded and reached for his hand. The Elder clearly couldn't orb on his own, and she was serving as his means of transportation.

Phoebe frowned, trying to process everything she had just learned. It was clearly important, and perhaps she could glean more information out of the words if she just contemplated it long enough... But the only thing she could think to ask was, "What about Leo?"

The Elder's expression hardened for a moment, then he said with something approaching sympathy in his tone, "You can't help him anymore. It's done... over. Now you need to save yourselves."

"Over?" Phoebe breathed, struggling desperately to keep her voice calm even as her heart dropped heavily into her stomach. "Over?" Anger coursed through her veins, causing her vision to shimmer with the intensity of her hatred for the man standing before her, for everything he represented. "Did you kill him?"

The Elder sighed and said with a hint of impatience in his tone, "Did you not hear what I just said?"

"Tell me what you did to Leo!" Phoebe demanded in response, brushing away his complaints. She was unable to focus on anything but the fact that her brother-in-law might be gone.

Well, ex-brother-in-law, but the distinction didn't really seem to matter anymore.

"He's gone," the Elder answered flatly, and this was not a lie. She could hear the inescapable truth in his blunt words. "Did you hear what I said about the fairy dust?"

"Gone?" Phoebe repeated numbly, not wanting to accept the finality of that word. It would destroy Piper, she knew that. And she couldn't bear the thought of losing yet another sister. Losing Prue had been hard enough, but Piper had always been the one to hold the family together, to serve as the glue that kept very different people from falling apart. How was she supposed to survive without Piper?

What reason was there to keep fighting if she didn't have a family left to protect?

"You must listen to me, Charmed One," the Elder said furiously, cutting into her thoughts. "I am trying to help you!"

Help? Phoebe almost laughed at that. How exactly did the Elder think he was helping her? Did he expect her to be grateful that he had delivered the news? He was one of those responsible for what had happened!

But perhaps that was not important at the moment. Perhaps what was important was a different question...

"Why would you want to help us?" Phoebe asked suspiciously.

The Elder was silent for a moment, then he said,"I have my doubts." He slanted a quick look at the white-lighter and added, "And it would appear that I am not the only one who feels this way."

"Oh?" Phoebe pressed, leaning forward.

"A lot of white-lighters have started questioning," the female white-lighter explained. "We've been told to leave behind our charges, the ones that fought with you against the demonic clans. We don't understand... don't believe that they have all turned, been corrupted. We don't believe they are past redemption, don't want to give up on them..."

"Talia, enough," the Elder said, quickly putting an end to the white-lighter's explanation. He turned back to Phoebe. "This is all the help we can give you, and it may not be enough. But you need time to sort of this mess, so you must protect yourselves. Go to the fairies. It is your only chance."

"That's it?" Phoebe demanded somewhat incredulously. Her words were coated with anger as she pressed on, "You're not going to try to stop the other Elders? Talk some sense into them? You're willing to stand by and do nothing as they come after us even though you've admitted to having some doubts?"

The Elder narrowed his eyes. "I've already betrayed my family by coming here. You have no idea what this has cost me."

"Cost you?" Phoebe spat back. "We lost our mother and our sister for your case, we nearly lost Wyatt, we've now lost Leo... and you actually have the nerve to stand there and talk to me about sacrifice?"

"We've lost family, too," the Elder said, eyes darkening. "Don't presume to have a monopoly on loss."

Phoebe laughed harshly. "You're not here because you actually care about what happens to us," she snapped coolly. "If you did care, you would stay and fight at our side, or at least challenge the other Elders' beliefs." She shook her head, turning away from him. She felt oddly disillusioned and didn't know why - it wasn't as though she had any reason to believe that this Elder would be different from all the others she had met.

They were all more concerned with their rules and regulations than they were with the people whose lives they controlled.

"You just want to make yourself feel better," she said. "You want to be able to think that you've actually done something to help... but you don't want to get your hands dirty. Better to let someone else fight the battle. Better to let someone else die."

The Elder was quiet for a long moment, then said softly, "We got our hands dirty when the Titans attacked. Our hands turned red with blood then. And our hands are dirty now, too. Do you really think there will be no consequences for my actions? Do you think disobedience and betrayal among Elders and white-lighters is so easily tolerated?" He reached out and took the white-lighter's arm. "I've given you our warning, it is now up to you what you do with it."

And he nodded to the white-lighter, and they both orbed away.

As Phoebe watched them disappear, she realized with a growing sense of unease that if what the Elder told her was true - and she believed that it was - then it looked like the magical community was on the brink of war.

The moment Luke reappeared Up There he knew something was wrong. Everything was tense, thick with apprehension, and it briefly reminded him of the way the air grew heavy before a thunderstorm. Something clenched painfully in his stomach and he felt his heart begin to beat rapidly in his chest.

He turned to Talia. "Get out of here," he ordered in a low voice, his words sharp with worry. "Now."

She looked as though she wanted to argue, but perhaps thought better of it. The expression on his face left no room for questions, for arguments or doubts, and she merely gave a silent nod and disappeared in a swirl of blue and white orbs.

Michael stepped out of the white mist, his eyes fixed on Luke, his expression a mix of accusation and disappointment. Behind him, two other Elders appeared, their own faces wearing identical expressions of anger.

Luke stiffened, and waited for judgement.

This time when Piper appeared in front of Chris with a grim expression on her features, he was not surprised. In fact, he had been half expecting it, filled with a dread he could not explain. Some sixth sense had abruptly made itself known, telling him that things had gotten worse, and Piper's appearance only confirmed what he already suspected.

His hands clenched into fists at his side and he lifted his chin slightly, prepared to face whatever she said without flinching.

"Leo's gone," Piper said bluntly, not bothering to coat the words. There were tears in her eyes and her voice cracked slightly, but she was still holding herself together remarkably well, all things considered.

"Gone?" Chris repeated, frown lines marring the skin on his face. "What do you mean?" Gone was a vague word with far too many potential meanings. But there was one he feared more than all the others, even if he was unwilling to admit to that quite yet. For all his indifference to Leo in the past, the Elder would one day be his father - or perhaps he already was, now that Piper was pregnant.

The semantics of the situation were giving him a headache.

Of course, the entire situation was giving him a migraine.

Piper answered with a half-hearted shrug. "I don't know... the Elder didn't say." She paused, collecting her thoughts, then continued, "I keep hoping that we could reach him somehow but I don't... I don't know..." Her tone was defeated, and it stung Chris, because he had never heard that before. He'd never once known Piper - or his mother - to just give up.

But Chris had to push that thought aside, had to focus on the battle plans and strategies. He had spent so many years as a general fighting a war against his own family, responsible for the safety and well being of so many others, that he frequently thought he no longer knew how to do anything else. That possibility had haunted him in the past - how could he be a good husband to Bianca and a good father to any future children they might have if he was unable to do anything but fight?

It didn't bother him now. It was necessary now, and in some ways, it had been necessary since Bianca's death. Since Wyatt had taken away one of the few good things left in his little brother's life.

Chris pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and considered Piper's words. His mind latched onto one part of her statement, and he asked skeptically, "You talked to an Elder?"

Piper nodded slowly. She wasn't looking at him, and he had trouble reading her expression. But her voice was still flat and empty, and that told him enough about her state of mind.

She told him everything Phoebe had learned from her visitors. Chris listened intently, picking apart the words, listening to everything the Elder said... and everything he didn't say. It didn't surprise him that at least one Elder would have doubts, but it did surprise him that the Elder would actually act on those doubts. He couldn't remember the last time he'd heard of an Elder defying the majority opinion.

"Where are Phoebe and Paige?" he asked at last.

"Getting fairy dust," Piper answered in that same chillingly flat tone. She leaned against the stone wall of the corridor and looked around, peering into the gloom. Chris knew she was trying to buy a moment to compose herself, to move past her grief over Leo and focus on the problems at hand.

But it wasn't easy. He could do it because he had years of experience, but he'd been a witch his entire life, and Piper had only been one for less than six years.

And she'd never fought in a war.

But that would soon change. They were standing at the beginning of a war, he could see that now. Had they gone too far over the line? Was there any way back, any way to stop the destruction that would surely come? He'd lived through one war, and had no desire to live through another. But did he have a choice?

There were too many questions pressing down on him, too many variables to consider, too many consequences to worry about.

He gritted his teeth and tried to focus, annoyed at how difficult this was. There had been moments of pain and anguish in the past, but overall it had been much better than anything he had experienced in the future. The relative safety of this world - the bright sunlight, the beautiful flowers, the happiness - it had made him let down his guard a little. It had made him relax.

And the devil playing around with his emotions certainly hadn't helped.

"Damn it," he swore under his breath, and Piper gave him a look of censure. He could almost hear his mother's voice in his head - watch your language, young man.

He slowly flexed the fingers on each hand, then said, "The Elder never said that Leo was dead. Gone could mean... gone could mean a lot of things." He hoped his voice sounded more optimistic than he felt, because at the moment they all needed a little bit of hope to cling to, and he couldn't offer Piper anything else.

"Paige tried sensing for him," Piper replied glumly, "and Phoebe wrote several spells. I tried scrying for him, too, but we didn't have any luck. We even tried using Wyatt... that's how Paige found him when he was on Valhalla, but..." She stopped, swallowing back a lump in her throat, before pushing on relentlessly, "The Elder said he was gone. If he's not dead, he's still somewhere beyond our reach."

Chris frowned. This was all wrong. Where was the Piper he knew growing up, the one who never backed down and never gave up and would fight dirty if she had to? Where was the warrior who had protected him from everything for fourteen years?

But, he reminded himself abruptly, Piper wasn't his mother. She was someone else entirely, and he had to keep that in mind as he planned out their next steps.

Unfortunately, he still had no idea what those next steps should be.

"I'll look around in the Underworld," he said finally. "Listen to the rumors, see what I can find. Maybe the demons know something."

Piper looked at him then, and asked bluntly, "And if they don't?"

He was spared having to come up with an answer by the appearance of Paige and Phoebe. They both held small bags, presumably filled with fairy dust. Phoebe looked worn, tired - had she always had those dark circles under her eyes? Even Paige was tense and wary, practically vibrating with emotion.

Clearly, they were prepared for the worst.

Piper turned towards Paige, and they started talking about something, but Chris wasn't listening. He caught Phoebe staring at him intently, and raised an eyebrow at her. She stepped to his side and said in a low voice, "Did Piper tell you everything?"

He nodded once.

Phoebe chewed her lip and glanced at Piper. Then she placed a hand on Chris' arm and slowly pulled him away from her two sisters, further into the gloom of the corridor. Phoebe continued to watch Piper, but the eldest Charmed Ones wasn't paying any attention to her middle sister, and so the empath said in the same quiet whisper, "It's like she's just given up."

Chris nodded again and said nothing. Phoebe was only repeating what he had already suspected, but she was the empath and she clearly had a better sense of Piper's feelings than he did.

Besides, she knew this Piper, and Chris didn't, not really.

Chris had known that losing Leo would break Piper. He just hadn't given much thought to what that break would look like.

He lifted his chin slightly, gesturing for Phoebe to continue.

Phoebe let out a slow breath. "When I told her what the Elder said... I can't explain it, Chris, I really can't. What she felt was just so... overwhelming. And empty." That didn't make any sense, and she must have seen the confusion in Chris' expression, because she paused, considering her words carefully, before saying, "When we rescued Leo from the Valkeries, when Piper finally remembered what she had lost... her heart broke. I could feel it, like it was my own heart exploding in my chest, filling me with pain I couldn't survive. Pain and anger that made me want to run, made me want to hide and... forget."

Chris shifted uncomfortably. He had never meant to cause Piper that kind of pain. He hadn't thought about those particular consequences - in fact, in some ways, he hadn't thought about any of the consequences beyond what his actions would mean for Wyatt.

But there was no accusation in Phoebe's words. It was just a simple statement, a fact that she was presenting for him.

She sighed heavily.

"This time, though... I didn't feel that. When I told her that the Elder said Leo was gone and that... that I could tell the Elder really believed it, that he wasn't lying, that Leo was beyond our reach, that we couldn't save him... It was like she just... stopped. Gave up. Whatever broke inside of her, it was... it was more than just her heart. It was... it was her identity. It was everything that makes her Piper, makes her my sister."

"What do you think she's going to do?" Chris asked, worry filling his voice. He knew what Piper was capable of, and hated to think of what she might do if she thought she had nothing left to lose. Though he had no fondness for the Elders, he didn't think an all-out war with them was a good idea.

Phoebe looked at him strangely, then said, "Don't you get it, Chris? Nothing. She's going to do absolutely nothing."

Chris blinked, confused. He hadn't expected that.

Phoebe pressed on relentlessly, "She's going to cut her losses and run. Take the fairy dust and use it on herself and Wyatt and you. Then she's going to move away from this city, move away from magic and just... be done. With everything. She'll bind Wyatt's powers if she can, and maybe even her own. She's done being a witch, done being a Charmed One, done being a Halliwell."

Phoebe paused and glanced over at Piper, and Chris followed her gaze, trying to wrap his head around how all of this had happened so quickly.

Or maybe it hadn't been quick. Maybe it had been coming for months, and they just hadn't noticed.

Damn Lucifer and all his plans.

"The magical community of Good has gone to war with itself," Phoebe murmured, "and Piper is going to walk away. She doesn't care about the deaths that will undoubtedly result from this. She doesn't care that the Elders' victims will be those who helped us, those who are only in trouble now because they trusted us. And Piper doesn't even care." She rubbed at her eyes. "It's like I've lost my sister, Chris. She's not Piper anymore. And I don't... I don't know how to get her back."