Fic: Comes Out of Darkness, Morn (6/37)
Title: Comes Out of Darkness, Morn
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Summary: Pax's disappearance shattered Paige. Losing Prue, three years later, reopens old wounds that she thought she'd managed to close off, forever. But, through tragedy comes a sliver of light, and discovering that she's a witch is only the beginning...
*****
"Where's the girl?"
Zola looked up at the sound of Leo's voice, barely masking his surprise at the sight of the angry Whitelighter bearing down on him. The younger man was practically shaking with rage, his eyes hard and cold.
"I beg your pardon?" Zola asked, softly, raising an eyebrow at Leo as the Whitelighter stopped in front of him, hoping that his tone got the younger man to think before he spoke, again.
Then, again, this was Leo.
"Where is she?" Leo repeated, stubbornly, not hearing, or just ignoring, the warning in Zola's voice.
"Who?" Zola asked, deliberately being obtuse.
"Paxton Matthews," Leo gritted out. "Paige's daughter. Where is she?"
"How am I supposed to know that?" Zola bluffed, getting a glare in return. "The child was kidnapped, remember? It's been six months; she's probably dead by now."
"Don't give me that crap," Leo snapped, his tone, and his choice of words, getting the attention of the Whitelighters around them. He ignored them, focusing solely on Zola.
"The child-" Zola started, but Leo never let him finish.
"The Charmed Ones performed a summoning spell," he informed Zola. "Her blood relatives. There is no way that it wouldn't have worked; no way that the child wouldn't have been brought safely into their arms. There are very few beings capable of interfering with a spell like that, and you're one of them. So, where is the child?"
"Somewhere else," Zola said, calmly, and then before Leo could say anything, he went on, "I remember giving you explicit orders to stay away from Paige Matthews, and to leave the child alone. You disappoint me, Leo."
"You can't just expect me to drop this," Leo hissed, furiously.
"I not only expect it," Zola told him, "I'm demanding it. You will stay far, far away from Paige Matthews and her child, or I will see your wings clipped and your soul recycled. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal," Leo said, a bitter tone in his voice.
Satisfied that he'd made his point, Zola orbed away, grimacing in distaste as he reformed in the Underworld.
"Care to tell me why I'm meeting you down here?" he said out loud, to the empty cavern.
A low, throaty chuckle came from the corner, and he watched as a shadow detached from the wall to form into Cheryl Long.
"Home field advantage, of course," she said, raising an eyebrow at the Elder. "You don't honestly think that I'm going to meet you up above, where your power is at its strongest?"
"Why did you call me down here?" Zola demanded, and the demon gave him a humorless smile.
"Just wanted to make sure you were holding up your end of the bargain," Cheryl told him.
"I kidnapped an innocent child and gave her to you," Zola snarled, furiously, glaring at the demon. "I had a chance to reunite her with her family, but I went against everything I believe in to protect the Greater Good. What more do you want from me?"
"I corrupted an Elder, even if only for a moment," Cheryl said, with a smirk. "What more do I need?"
"I want to see the girl," Zola said, brusquely.
"Why?" Cheryl asked, suspiciously.
"You promised me that the girl would come to no harm," Zola reminded her. "I simply want to ensure that you're keeping that promise."
Cheryl rolled her eyes, but she waved her hand, making the air between them shimmer with energy. An image began to form in the air, and quickly cleared to show a man and a small child. The child had tears streaking down her face.
"Sound," Zola snapped, his eyes fixed on the image of the child in front of him.
"Demanding, aren't you?" Cheryl smirked, but she complied with his request.
"I want Mama!" the girl was wailing, and the sound lanced straight through Zola's heart.
"Your mother is dead!" the man snarled, and the girl's face crumpled as she sobbed, wildly.
"Seen enough?" Cheryl asked, dryly, another wave of her hand banishing the image in the air. "I assure you, Elder, the child will come to no harm with us. Properly groomed, she could well become our next Source."
"To corrupt a Whitelighter's child for evil-" Zola said, disgust in his voice.
"And you helped me do it," Cheryl reminded him, with a laugh. "The Underworld owes you a boon of thanks, do-gooder."
"What about our deal?" Zola demanded, ignoring the demon's taunting. "If I gave you the girl, you swore that you and your children would leave the Charmed Ones alone."
"Yes, yes," Cheryl said, languidly waving her hand, a bored tone in her voice. "Our deal. Don't worry; your precious Charmed Ones are safe from me and mine. I don't want to lose any of my children to those witches, anyway. You, on the other hand-"
She let her voice trail off, making Zola narrow his eyes at her, suspiciously.
"What about me?" Zola demanded.
"Well, it's just that you're a liability," Cheryl informed him, an almost apologetic tone in her voice. "I admit, it was fun - exhilarating, you might say - having an Elder under my thumb. But, as compliant and helpful as you've been, at the end of the day, you're still one of the good guys, and I just can't take the chance that you're going to have a crisis of conscience over what you've done. If I want my plans to grow to fruition, I can't have you sending your witches after me. I'm afraid that you're a loose end that simply must be tied."
"You can't keep me down here," Zola growled, but Cheryl laughed at him, again.
"Oh, I have no intention of keeping you here," she told him, snapping her fingers, sharply.
Zola started at the crack of sound that echoed across the cavern. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see several figures entering the cavern to surround him, and he tensed up.
"I really am sorry," Cheryl said, with a shrug. "If it helps, it's nothing personal."
Zola took a step forward, and then stopped at a stabbing pain that shot through his chest. He collapsed as he stared down at the Darklighter's bolt sticking out of his chest, and then he looked up at the young woman standing over him holding a crossbow, a smirk on her face.
"Don't die too quickly, Elder," she said, prodding him with her foot. "My brothers and I want to have some fun, first."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
A week after his confrontation with Zola, Leo found himself being summoned to the Heavens, again. When he orbed up there, he found himself facing an unusually-somber looking Sandra, and he got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. The feeling only increased when he took in the mournful demeanor of the other Whitelighters around him.
"What's wrong?" he asked, immediately, and Sandra sighed.
"Zola's dead," she told him, quietly, but Leo didn't feel the grief that was being displayed by his colleagues. Instead, he only felt regret and anger.
"And with him, our only chance to get Paige's daughter, back," he said. "Damn it," he growled, slamming a closed fist into his free hand.
"Calm down, Leo," Sandra said, but Leo shot her a withering glare.
"I'm failing my charges," he snapped, angrily. "How can I possibly be calm?"
"Paige Matthews isn't your charge," Sandra reminded him, but her protest didn't have any real heat behind it.
"I want her as my charge," Leo told her, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Leo-" Sandra started, but he wasn't going to let the Elder finish.
"Don't give me that crap about protecting her," he growled, keeping his voice low so that no one else could hear him. "We are the reason her daughter is in Hell. That is as far from protecting as you can get."
Sandra sighed, but didn't make any protest to his comment.
"She's half Whitelighter," Leo went on, softly. "She'll earn her wings, one day, no doubt about it. Let me watch over her. Protect her like I should have been for her entire life."
"I'll make it official," Sandra finally agreed. Leo didn't bother telling her that he'd been unofficially watching over Paige as best he could for the last four months. Some things were better kept secret.
"Thank you," he said, his shoulders slumping with relief as a little bit of the tension he'd been carrying around dissipated.
"The same restrictions still hold, though," Sandra warned him, quickly. "She needs to stay off the Council's radar, and that means that she cannot know about her sisters, nor they about her. She can't be anyone special."
"Just another future Whitelighter," Leo promised her.
He orbed away to where he could sense Paige, emerging in an alleyway near an apartment building. Going into the building, he rode the elevator up the fourth floor, and walked down the hallway until he reached an open door halfway down the hallway. Poking his head in, he saw Paige standing in the middle of the apartment, surrounded by boxes. A tall man with messy, brown hair was stretched out on the couch, his feet kicked up on the back.
"It was nice that furnishings came with the apartment," he was saying.
"Yeah, because I can't afford even a folding chair, right now," Paige replied. "I love my new job, but I didn't exactly go into social work for the money."
"Well, if you'd contest the divorce," the man argued, and then he trailed off when he caught sight of Leo hovering in the doorway. "Can I help you?"
"Just moved in?" Leo asked, rather than answering, and Paige nodded, after a moment.
"Finalized the last of the paperwork, this morning," she told him. "Do you live in the building?"
"Leo Wyatt," he introduced himself, once again evading the question as she shook the hand he held out.
"Yeah, I guess that was kind of a stupid question," Paige said, with a self-depreciating chuckle. "I'm Paige Matthews. The lazy one is Henry Mitchell."
"I am not lazy," Henry immediately protested.
"You've been sitting on that couch for the past fifteen minutes," Paige pointed out.
"Because those boxes are heavy," Henry told her, with a hint of a whine in his voice. "Do you even know how many pairs of shoes you own?"
"Not nearly enough," came the prompt reply. "Now, be nice. We're ignoring my new neighbor. Sorry about that," she added, to Leo.
"Don't worry about it," Leo said, with a shrug. "Anyway, I just thought I'd stop by and say hello. I'm pretty good with a wrench," he added, digging into the pocket of his jeans for the business cards he'd had made to further his handyman cover with his charges. "If you ever need anything, feel free to give me a call."
"Thanks," Paige said, pocketing the card, "I will."
"I should probably be going," Leo said, nodding at the door.
He'd seen for himself that Paige was all right, and he couldn't think of any further reasons to stick around without seeming weird. And from what he'd seen over the last few months, Henry was certainly a formidable bodyguard in his absence. He felt safe leaving Paige with the other man, knowing that he was entrusting her to good hands.
Continued here
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Summary: Pax's disappearance shattered Paige. Losing Prue, three years later, reopens old wounds that she thought she'd managed to close off, forever. But, through tragedy comes a sliver of light, and discovering that she's a witch is only the beginning...
*****
"Where's the girl?"
Zola looked up at the sound of Leo's voice, barely masking his surprise at the sight of the angry Whitelighter bearing down on him. The younger man was practically shaking with rage, his eyes hard and cold.
"I beg your pardon?" Zola asked, softly, raising an eyebrow at Leo as the Whitelighter stopped in front of him, hoping that his tone got the younger man to think before he spoke, again.
Then, again, this was Leo.
"Where is she?" Leo repeated, stubbornly, not hearing, or just ignoring, the warning in Zola's voice.
"Who?" Zola asked, deliberately being obtuse.
"Paxton Matthews," Leo gritted out. "Paige's daughter. Where is she?"
"How am I supposed to know that?" Zola bluffed, getting a glare in return. "The child was kidnapped, remember? It's been six months; she's probably dead by now."
"Don't give me that crap," Leo snapped, his tone, and his choice of words, getting the attention of the Whitelighters around them. He ignored them, focusing solely on Zola.
"The child-" Zola started, but Leo never let him finish.
"The Charmed Ones performed a summoning spell," he informed Zola. "Her blood relatives. There is no way that it wouldn't have worked; no way that the child wouldn't have been brought safely into their arms. There are very few beings capable of interfering with a spell like that, and you're one of them. So, where is the child?"
"Somewhere else," Zola said, calmly, and then before Leo could say anything, he went on, "I remember giving you explicit orders to stay away from Paige Matthews, and to leave the child alone. You disappoint me, Leo."
"You can't just expect me to drop this," Leo hissed, furiously.
"I not only expect it," Zola told him, "I'm demanding it. You will stay far, far away from Paige Matthews and her child, or I will see your wings clipped and your soul recycled. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal," Leo said, a bitter tone in his voice.
Satisfied that he'd made his point, Zola orbed away, grimacing in distaste as he reformed in the Underworld.
"Care to tell me why I'm meeting you down here?" he said out loud, to the empty cavern.
A low, throaty chuckle came from the corner, and he watched as a shadow detached from the wall to form into Cheryl Long.
"Home field advantage, of course," she said, raising an eyebrow at the Elder. "You don't honestly think that I'm going to meet you up above, where your power is at its strongest?"
"Why did you call me down here?" Zola demanded, and the demon gave him a humorless smile.
"Just wanted to make sure you were holding up your end of the bargain," Cheryl told him.
"I kidnapped an innocent child and gave her to you," Zola snarled, furiously, glaring at the demon. "I had a chance to reunite her with her family, but I went against everything I believe in to protect the Greater Good. What more do you want from me?"
"I corrupted an Elder, even if only for a moment," Cheryl said, with a smirk. "What more do I need?"
"I want to see the girl," Zola said, brusquely.
"Why?" Cheryl asked, suspiciously.
"You promised me that the girl would come to no harm," Zola reminded her. "I simply want to ensure that you're keeping that promise."
Cheryl rolled her eyes, but she waved her hand, making the air between them shimmer with energy. An image began to form in the air, and quickly cleared to show a man and a small child. The child had tears streaking down her face.
"Sound," Zola snapped, his eyes fixed on the image of the child in front of him.
"Demanding, aren't you?" Cheryl smirked, but she complied with his request.
"I want Mama!" the girl was wailing, and the sound lanced straight through Zola's heart.
"Your mother is dead!" the man snarled, and the girl's face crumpled as she sobbed, wildly.
"Seen enough?" Cheryl asked, dryly, another wave of her hand banishing the image in the air. "I assure you, Elder, the child will come to no harm with us. Properly groomed, she could well become our next Source."
"To corrupt a Whitelighter's child for evil-" Zola said, disgust in his voice.
"And you helped me do it," Cheryl reminded him, with a laugh. "The Underworld owes you a boon of thanks, do-gooder."
"What about our deal?" Zola demanded, ignoring the demon's taunting. "If I gave you the girl, you swore that you and your children would leave the Charmed Ones alone."
"Yes, yes," Cheryl said, languidly waving her hand, a bored tone in her voice. "Our deal. Don't worry; your precious Charmed Ones are safe from me and mine. I don't want to lose any of my children to those witches, anyway. You, on the other hand-"
She let her voice trail off, making Zola narrow his eyes at her, suspiciously.
"What about me?" Zola demanded.
"Well, it's just that you're a liability," Cheryl informed him, an almost apologetic tone in her voice. "I admit, it was fun - exhilarating, you might say - having an Elder under my thumb. But, as compliant and helpful as you've been, at the end of the day, you're still one of the good guys, and I just can't take the chance that you're going to have a crisis of conscience over what you've done. If I want my plans to grow to fruition, I can't have you sending your witches after me. I'm afraid that you're a loose end that simply must be tied."
"You can't keep me down here," Zola growled, but Cheryl laughed at him, again.
"Oh, I have no intention of keeping you here," she told him, snapping her fingers, sharply.
Zola started at the crack of sound that echoed across the cavern. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see several figures entering the cavern to surround him, and he tensed up.
"I really am sorry," Cheryl said, with a shrug. "If it helps, it's nothing personal."
Zola took a step forward, and then stopped at a stabbing pain that shot through his chest. He collapsed as he stared down at the Darklighter's bolt sticking out of his chest, and then he looked up at the young woman standing over him holding a crossbow, a smirk on her face.
"Don't die too quickly, Elder," she said, prodding him with her foot. "My brothers and I want to have some fun, first."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
A week after his confrontation with Zola, Leo found himself being summoned to the Heavens, again. When he orbed up there, he found himself facing an unusually-somber looking Sandra, and he got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. The feeling only increased when he took in the mournful demeanor of the other Whitelighters around him.
"What's wrong?" he asked, immediately, and Sandra sighed.
"Zola's dead," she told him, quietly, but Leo didn't feel the grief that was being displayed by his colleagues. Instead, he only felt regret and anger.
"And with him, our only chance to get Paige's daughter, back," he said. "Damn it," he growled, slamming a closed fist into his free hand.
"Calm down, Leo," Sandra said, but Leo shot her a withering glare.
"I'm failing my charges," he snapped, angrily. "How can I possibly be calm?"
"Paige Matthews isn't your charge," Sandra reminded him, but her protest didn't have any real heat behind it.
"I want her as my charge," Leo told her, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Leo-" Sandra started, but he wasn't going to let the Elder finish.
"Don't give me that crap about protecting her," he growled, keeping his voice low so that no one else could hear him. "We are the reason her daughter is in Hell. That is as far from protecting as you can get."
Sandra sighed, but didn't make any protest to his comment.
"She's half Whitelighter," Leo went on, softly. "She'll earn her wings, one day, no doubt about it. Let me watch over her. Protect her like I should have been for her entire life."
"I'll make it official," Sandra finally agreed. Leo didn't bother telling her that he'd been unofficially watching over Paige as best he could for the last four months. Some things were better kept secret.
"Thank you," he said, his shoulders slumping with relief as a little bit of the tension he'd been carrying around dissipated.
"The same restrictions still hold, though," Sandra warned him, quickly. "She needs to stay off the Council's radar, and that means that she cannot know about her sisters, nor they about her. She can't be anyone special."
"Just another future Whitelighter," Leo promised her.
He orbed away to where he could sense Paige, emerging in an alleyway near an apartment building. Going into the building, he rode the elevator up the fourth floor, and walked down the hallway until he reached an open door halfway down the hallway. Poking his head in, he saw Paige standing in the middle of the apartment, surrounded by boxes. A tall man with messy, brown hair was stretched out on the couch, his feet kicked up on the back.
"It was nice that furnishings came with the apartment," he was saying.
"Yeah, because I can't afford even a folding chair, right now," Paige replied. "I love my new job, but I didn't exactly go into social work for the money."
"Well, if you'd contest the divorce," the man argued, and then he trailed off when he caught sight of Leo hovering in the doorway. "Can I help you?"
"Just moved in?" Leo asked, rather than answering, and Paige nodded, after a moment.
"Finalized the last of the paperwork, this morning," she told him. "Do you live in the building?"
"Leo Wyatt," he introduced himself, once again evading the question as she shook the hand he held out.
"Yeah, I guess that was kind of a stupid question," Paige said, with a self-depreciating chuckle. "I'm Paige Matthews. The lazy one is Henry Mitchell."
"I am not lazy," Henry immediately protested.
"You've been sitting on that couch for the past fifteen minutes," Paige pointed out.
"Because those boxes are heavy," Henry told her, with a hint of a whine in his voice. "Do you even know how many pairs of shoes you own?"
"Not nearly enough," came the prompt reply. "Now, be nice. We're ignoring my new neighbor. Sorry about that," she added, to Leo.
"Don't worry about it," Leo said, with a shrug. "Anyway, I just thought I'd stop by and say hello. I'm pretty good with a wrench," he added, digging into the pocket of his jeans for the business cards he'd had made to further his handyman cover with his charges. "If you ever need anything, feel free to give me a call."
"Thanks," Paige said, pocketing the card, "I will."
"I should probably be going," Leo said, nodding at the door.
He'd seen for himself that Paige was all right, and he couldn't think of any further reasons to stick around without seeming weird. And from what he'd seen over the last few months, Henry was certainly a formidable bodyguard in his absence. He felt safe leaving Paige with the other man, knowing that he was entrusting her to good hands.
Continued here