Fic: Comes Out of Darkness, Morn (15/37)
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...
*****
The Source watched as Shax was vanquished, highlighted in the Oracle's crystal ball. Turning an impassive gaze on the scantily-clad demon, he waited for an explanation. When none was forthcoming, he reached out and closed his clawed hand around her throat.
"You told me that the witch's future was short-lived," he rumbled, feeling the demon tremble under his hand.
"I said only that it appeared short-lived," she wheezed, as he applied pressure to her throat, cutting off her air. "Seeing into the future is not always exact."
"For your sake, I should think that you would take care to be more precise," the Source said, pointedly, digging his claws in until thin streams of blood trickled down the Oracle's throat. "The Charmed Ones are strong," he ranted, furiously. "She'll be almost untouchable, now that she's been reunited with her sisters."
"But, she's new to the Craft," the Oracle protested, weakly. "She is vulnerable; she can still be corrupted-"
"Not so new as you might think," the Source growled. "She has powers of her own; she wounded Shax when I first sent him after her. The window of opportunity is null and void. She's already freely chosen the side of the Light."
"Even better," the Oracle gasped, turning blue as she gasped in a desperate attempt to get more air into her abused lungs. "It is child's play to corrupt a neophyte witch; but to corrupt one who has already chosen her allegiance, and a Charmed One, at that-" Her eyes glittered with a strange light. "Corrupt the witch, and her darkness will overtake her sisters, as well."
The Source waited several more heartbeats before releasing the Oracle, watching dispassionately as the lithe demon rubbed at her bruised throat.
"If you were to get close to the witch, read her soul, corrupt it-" She trailed off, coughing.
"Find me a conduit to the witch's heart," the Source ordered, brusquely. "And Oracle?" He paused, watching the demon shiver at the dangerous tone in his voice. "Don't screw up, this time."
It hadn't taken long for the Oracle to locate a suitable host, and the Source flamed into the building where the man was supposed to be. The room was dark, save for a single, low light at a desk. His quarry was sitting behind the desk, his head down as he bent over a thick stack of papers, but when he sensed the Source approaching him, he looked up. A startled look came over the man's face as he jumped to his feet, his chair clattering noisily to the floor behind him.
"What the hell?" came the shocked exclamation. "Who are you?"
The Source reached out and grabbed the man by the throat in an iron grip. "For now," he growled, "I am you."
He possessed the mortal, easily, overtaking the man's body and sending his consciousness howling in protest into a dark corner of his own mind. He could still hear the man screaming at him, but he was able to ignore the pitiful wretch, for the most part.
'And, now, to find the witch,' he thought.
He'd just turned away from the desk when he saw someone coming at him out of the corner of his eye. He reigned in his instinctive impulse to incinerate the one who dared approach him, grateful a moment later when the figure turned out to be the witch.
"Henry, thank god you're still here," she said, throwing her arms around him in a hug. Laying her head on his chest, she sighed and added, "You would not believe the night I've had."
"Talk to me," the Source said, soothingly, rubbing his hand up and down the witch's back in what he supposed was a comforting gesture. "It's all right. I'm here, now."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Paige groaned as the sunlight poured in through her bedroom window. She threw an arm over her eyes to block out the light, yanking the heavy covers over her head with her free hand. A second later, her still-fuzzy brain registered the insistent buzzing sound in the background as her alarm clock, and she struggled out of the blankets, muttering curses when she stubbed her toe on the bed frame.
It took longer than she liked to shower and get dressed for work, and she was running late as she stumbled out of the bedroom and into the apartment's tiny kitchen. But, she froze at the sight of someone sitting at the table, staring down at the newspaper with a frown on his face.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, and Henry lifted his head long enough to give her a quick grin.
"Well, you were pretty upset, last night," Henry said, with a nonchalant shrug. "I slept the night on your couch. Hope that was okay," he added, after a moment.
"Of course," Paige said, waving away his concern. "But, you didn't have to stay with me. I - I'm fine, really."
"You didn't sound fine, last night," Henry said, a pointed tone in his voice. "Paige-"
"I don't want to talk about it," Paige said, interrupting him. She pulled the fridge open and grabbed the container of orange juice, pouring herself a cup and downing it in a few, quick gulps.
"You're not excited to have sisters?" Henry asked, a too-casual tone in his voice.
"Prue is dead," Paige said, the words choking in her throat as she swiped at the tears that formed in the corners of her eyes. "And those women are strangers. We're only related by some accident of birth. Besides," she added, bitterly, "from what little I heard last night, I doubt they really want me around, anyway."
"I'm sure it's not what you think," Henry said, but Paige jerked her shoulder in a shrug.
"Right now," she sighed, "I don't know what I think. Forget it; I've got to get to work. The Grisanti family has their final placement hearing at one."
"The abused kid, right?" Henry asked, after a moment. "The father's been hitting his son-"
"The mother, actually," Paige corrected him. "I told you about it last week, remember? Jake Grisanti collapsed from a heart attack in the middle of the clinic, and before he was taken to the hospital, he told his wife that he was done covering for her. Our own little soap opera," she finished. "Anyway, the final hearing is today, and if everything goes well, Nathan Grisanti will go home with grandparents who love him, while his father is recovering in the hospital."
"It sounds like you've got everything sorted out, then," Henry commented, and Paige shot him a look at the disappointment she thought she could hear in his voice.
"What's wrong?" she asked, frowning.
"Nothing," Henry said, quickly, shaking his head. "Listen, I should get to work, too."
"Stop by for lunch if you have time," Paige suggested, walking with him to the door. She snagged her purse from the table beside the door, locking it behind her, and they walked together down to the parking garage.
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...
*****
The Source watched as Shax was vanquished, highlighted in the Oracle's crystal ball. Turning an impassive gaze on the scantily-clad demon, he waited for an explanation. When none was forthcoming, he reached out and closed his clawed hand around her throat.
"You told me that the witch's future was short-lived," he rumbled, feeling the demon tremble under his hand.
"I said only that it appeared short-lived," she wheezed, as he applied pressure to her throat, cutting off her air. "Seeing into the future is not always exact."
"For your sake, I should think that you would take care to be more precise," the Source said, pointedly, digging his claws in until thin streams of blood trickled down the Oracle's throat. "The Charmed Ones are strong," he ranted, furiously. "She'll be almost untouchable, now that she's been reunited with her sisters."
"But, she's new to the Craft," the Oracle protested, weakly. "She is vulnerable; she can still be corrupted-"
"Not so new as you might think," the Source growled. "She has powers of her own; she wounded Shax when I first sent him after her. The window of opportunity is null and void. She's already freely chosen the side of the Light."
"Even better," the Oracle gasped, turning blue as she gasped in a desperate attempt to get more air into her abused lungs. "It is child's play to corrupt a neophyte witch; but to corrupt one who has already chosen her allegiance, and a Charmed One, at that-" Her eyes glittered with a strange light. "Corrupt the witch, and her darkness will overtake her sisters, as well."
The Source waited several more heartbeats before releasing the Oracle, watching dispassionately as the lithe demon rubbed at her bruised throat.
"If you were to get close to the witch, read her soul, corrupt it-" She trailed off, coughing.
"Find me a conduit to the witch's heart," the Source ordered, brusquely. "And Oracle?" He paused, watching the demon shiver at the dangerous tone in his voice. "Don't screw up, this time."
It hadn't taken long for the Oracle to locate a suitable host, and the Source flamed into the building where the man was supposed to be. The room was dark, save for a single, low light at a desk. His quarry was sitting behind the desk, his head down as he bent over a thick stack of papers, but when he sensed the Source approaching him, he looked up. A startled look came over the man's face as he jumped to his feet, his chair clattering noisily to the floor behind him.
"What the hell?" came the shocked exclamation. "Who are you?"
The Source reached out and grabbed the man by the throat in an iron grip. "For now," he growled, "I am you."
He possessed the mortal, easily, overtaking the man's body and sending his consciousness howling in protest into a dark corner of his own mind. He could still hear the man screaming at him, but he was able to ignore the pitiful wretch, for the most part.
'And, now, to find the witch,' he thought.
He'd just turned away from the desk when he saw someone coming at him out of the corner of his eye. He reigned in his instinctive impulse to incinerate the one who dared approach him, grateful a moment later when the figure turned out to be the witch.
"Henry, thank god you're still here," she said, throwing her arms around him in a hug. Laying her head on his chest, she sighed and added, "You would not believe the night I've had."
"Talk to me," the Source said, soothingly, rubbing his hand up and down the witch's back in what he supposed was a comforting gesture. "It's all right. I'm here, now."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Paige groaned as the sunlight poured in through her bedroom window. She threw an arm over her eyes to block out the light, yanking the heavy covers over her head with her free hand. A second later, her still-fuzzy brain registered the insistent buzzing sound in the background as her alarm clock, and she struggled out of the blankets, muttering curses when she stubbed her toe on the bed frame.
It took longer than she liked to shower and get dressed for work, and she was running late as she stumbled out of the bedroom and into the apartment's tiny kitchen. But, she froze at the sight of someone sitting at the table, staring down at the newspaper with a frown on his face.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, and Henry lifted his head long enough to give her a quick grin.
"Well, you were pretty upset, last night," Henry said, with a nonchalant shrug. "I slept the night on your couch. Hope that was okay," he added, after a moment.
"Of course," Paige said, waving away his concern. "But, you didn't have to stay with me. I - I'm fine, really."
"You didn't sound fine, last night," Henry said, a pointed tone in his voice. "Paige-"
"I don't want to talk about it," Paige said, interrupting him. She pulled the fridge open and grabbed the container of orange juice, pouring herself a cup and downing it in a few, quick gulps.
"You're not excited to have sisters?" Henry asked, a too-casual tone in his voice.
"Prue is dead," Paige said, the words choking in her throat as she swiped at the tears that formed in the corners of her eyes. "And those women are strangers. We're only related by some accident of birth. Besides," she added, bitterly, "from what little I heard last night, I doubt they really want me around, anyway."
"I'm sure it's not what you think," Henry said, but Paige jerked her shoulder in a shrug.
"Right now," she sighed, "I don't know what I think. Forget it; I've got to get to work. The Grisanti family has their final placement hearing at one."
"The abused kid, right?" Henry asked, after a moment. "The father's been hitting his son-"
"The mother, actually," Paige corrected him. "I told you about it last week, remember? Jake Grisanti collapsed from a heart attack in the middle of the clinic, and before he was taken to the hospital, he told his wife that he was done covering for her. Our own little soap opera," she finished. "Anyway, the final hearing is today, and if everything goes well, Nathan Grisanti will go home with grandparents who love him, while his father is recovering in the hospital."
"It sounds like you've got everything sorted out, then," Henry commented, and Paige shot him a look at the disappointment she thought she could hear in his voice.
"What's wrong?" she asked, frowning.
"Nothing," Henry said, quickly, shaking his head. "Listen, I should get to work, too."
"Stop by for lunch if you have time," Paige suggested, walking with him to the door. She snagged her purse from the table beside the door, locking it behind her, and they walked together down to the parking garage.
Continued here