Some time back I wrote a story in the Bewitched section, titled 'The Power of Hate.' Well, this is it's sequel, or companion piece. It will be cut into 3 or 4 parts, chapters. Now, it took me some time, but I managed to get it together this far. Now I admit there may be spelling errors and such, but I hope I can be forgiven for such a grievance. I also want to thank those who read 'Hate' and are still willing to read 'Love.'

*Special note* This story does have some religious undertones to it, which is not meant to be offensive.

The Power of Love

PART 1

In a suburban New York state bar, Darrin sat on a stool by the counter. His bartender, Joe, a balding man in his fifties just stared at him, amazed, "All these years Darrin… you told me you were married to a witch! I thought you meant bitch! But no, you really meant witch, which means… you were married to a witch!"

Darrin looked up, a glazed look in his dark brown eyes, "Thank you for enlightening me Joe, now I want another drink. Make it a double."

The man kept wiping down a glass, shaking his head, staring at Darrin in disbelief, "Anytime you pissed her off-" He paused in wiping the glass only to snap his finger, "Bam! You're a goner!"

As he continued talking and wiping the glass, Darrin rolled his eyes, "Fine. Don't get me that double. Yap all you like."

Darrin slowly wobbled out of his stool, his trousers and buttoned down blouse disheveled and wrinkled, as if he hadn't changed his clothes in weeks. He had grown a 5 O'clock shadow, something which would take the average man a day or two to grow, but took him a week. His stringy, black hair was uncombed and all over his head. His eyes blood shot, his back bent as if he had been carrying the weight of the world on his broad shoulders. He looked a mess. And anyone who got three feet near him could smell the now 'expected' new scent of Darrin Stephens- staled alcohol.

It had now been a year and eight months since Sam and Tabitha disappeared from the earth, or as the witches referred to it, 'the mortal plane'.

Which means, Darrin had been alone for close to two years.

Staring down at him from above, in a viewing portal in a large, charcoal black cauldron, was his beautiful wife, Samantha. She was in her traditional black witch robe, complete with long flowing arm sleeves and a high collar. And if one looked closely enough, there was a dark green, almost glittering outline to her robes.

She sighed, the pain evident in her eyes as she looked up to her mother, Endora. Endora was also in her traditional purple and green witch robes, her fiery red hair seeming to glow in this other dimension, her blue eyes sparkling just like Samantha's, for this dimension was feeding their immortal blood, energizing them.

Samantha told her mother sadly, "I must go to him again, mother. Look at him. He needs me."

Her voice echoed almost dreamily, falling way into the clouds that surrounded them.

Endora merely rolled her eyes, "Derwood does look more pathetic than usual."

Samantha just kept staring down at her husband through the portal, "He's suffering, mother."

Endora coldly looked at her daughter, "Let him."

Samantha's head snapped up, "What did you say?"

"I said 'Let him.'" Endora announced, "It is no concern of ours what fools these mortals are. Let him and his whole damn race suffer."

"Mother!" Samantha half shouted, half yelped, "How could you say such a thing?! He's Tabitha's father! He's my husband! He's a good man!"

Endora rolled her eyes, "Now come off it, Samantha. Has your love for that pitiful mortal blinded you to the atrocities they have done in our name? The Salem Witch Hunt, 17th century Victorian England when they burned us at the stake and now this! But this, this has been by far the worst! If we go back, they will kill us, Samantha. And further more, they want to do it!"

"I don't care, I must go back-" Samantha told her mother defiantly.

Endora's eyes raised, "Bite your tongue!"

Instantly Samantha stopped speaking, and Endora told her slowly, "Have you forgotten about the dark matter?"

Samantha lowered her eyes.

How could she forget?

Dark matter was a magical element on earth which could be used to kill a witch- if it fell into the wrong hands.

As if on cue, her identical looking cousin Serena walked to them. Her eyes glistening, her high pitched sing-songy voice echoing, "Hey cuz! Hello, Aunty-Poo! Checking in on the enemy, I see!"

Endora growled, rolling her eyes, "I am not your 'Aunty-Poo'."

Samantha soon chimed in, "And they are not our enemy!"

Serena laughed hollowly, "Of course you'd say that, cuz!" Her voice dropped a dangerous octave, "You mated with one of 'em."

Samantha's eyes widened as she sucked in her breath. Endora could feel her daughter about to do something she might regret later and soon made her voice loud and clear, "Careful, Serena… do not forget that the result of such a union is still my granddaughter… or I may have to remind you none too kindly."

Serena opened her mouth as if to shoot out a clever, little remark, only to instantly shut it when Endora's eyelids snapped back in a silent dare that only the completely stupid would challenge. And luckily, Serena wasn't completely stupid. She closed her mouth, thinking better of it and simply shrugged off to her cousin and aunt, "Please, I need no more reminding! Ta-Ta, for now!"

As soon as she popped out, Endora turned to Samantha sharply, "I don't even want to begin with that witch!"

Samantha said firmly, "Then let's start with you. Mother, you must open your eyes and realize-"

Endora waved her hand dismissively, "Samantha, it's over. We left the mortal plane. Let it stay that way."

"I will not!" Samantha said in a voice that almost sounded like a shriek, "I love Darrin and he loves me back and I can't bear to watch Tabitha grow up without her father any more than I can bear the thought of Darrin missing out on her childhood!"

Endora shrugged, "Tabitha will hardly miss her father and I doubt Dobbin will even know he's missing anything!"

"Mother, he's missing everything!" Samantha pleaded, gesturing wildly with her hands, "Don't you understand that?"

"Honestly Samantha," Endora spoke truthfully, with a sigh, "I don't understand you. Why you would settle for a mortal when you can have the cream of the crop of handsome warlock men? And I don't understand Doofus. Half the mortal men I know would die of absolute fright if they found out their wife was a witch. The other half would choke on their own greed as they asked for their spouse to twitch up a new, comfortable life for them. But you managed to pick the one mortal man on earth who just wanted a regular, hum-drum life!"

"Mother," Samantha said patiently, hoping her mother would understand, "that's why I chose Doofus." After a pause, Samantha shook her head and quickly corrected, "I meant Darrin!"

Endora smirked, "Sure you did." As soon as she popped out, Samantha groaned and disappeared into a pinkish, purplish cloud. She reemerged from a bluish- greenish looking fog. As she floated in, she noticed the warlocks and witches of this part of the dimension suddenly stopped talking. She didn't need to strain her ears or read lips to tell what they were whispering to each other.

It was the simple fact that she had married Darrin.

And some despised her for it.

Others pitied her.

And a select number were amused by the thought.

Uncle Arthur was a part of that group. He emerged, drink in hand, wearing a striking yellow striped suit with a baby blue collar. He said loudly, "Sammy! There you are! Tell me, what do you think about my new suit? Has more lines than a silent picture, don't it?" He then burst out laughing at his own joke while several onlookers curled their upper lips in disdain. Meanwhile, Arthur laughed loudly, "Get it? More lines?! Sometimes I just kill myself!"

Suddenly a mirror appeared, and Arthur's reflection took a gun out of his striped breast pocket ant "shot" her uncle with a loud BAM. The mirror cracked into several pieces before falling into a puddle of shards of glass, and the frame falling with it. Arthur than choked out, "That guy!" He pointed at the remains of the mirror, "I love him to pieces!" He then laughed harder, "Get it, Sammy?! Pieces?! The mirror broke into pieces!"

Sam twitched up a broom and dustpan, using her magic to sweep the shards of mirror into the dustpan as she glared at her uncle, very aware how everyone had all eyes on them, "Uncle Arthur, honestly!" With the pieces now collected, she snapped her fingers and the full length mirror was intact, good as new, and complete with Arthur's reflection. She handed Arthur the full length mirror, eyeing his reflection for any foul movements as she hissed, "Pull yourself together and try not to break anymore mirrors, we have enough bad luck! And besides, I need to talk to you."

Arthur snapped the mirror away, trying to resemble some sense of seriousness, "I'm all ears." Before she could say another word, Arthur had popped ears all over his face and burst out laughing again.

Without missing a beat, Sam popped a giant megaphone in her hand and shouted out to Arthur, "So now that you have no excuse not to hear me- I need to speak with you!"

The sound instantly made Arthur zap the ears away, but his hands flew to his temples as he gurgled out, "Holy Mary, Rhoda and Ted, don't ever do that again! I got a ringing in my head and a splitting headache!"

"Don't you dare split your head!" Sam warned, popping away the megaphone.

Arthur rubbed his chin, "Wasn't thinking about that, but it is a good idea."

Sam grabbed his arm and soon pulled him aside, urgently whispering, "I want to go back to earth, but I don't think mother will help me out this time."

"Why go back there? You gotta death wish, Sammy?" Arthur asked, the thought of returning to such a hostile place paling his face.

"I need to go back for Darrin."

Arthur burst out laughing, "Th-That's a good one! Tryna oneup yer old Uncle Arthur, that's a good girl!"

Sam's firm voice cut the space around them, "I'm serious."

Arthur abruptly stopped laughing and soon stared at his favorite niece as if she had three heads, "Samantha, you can't. Does Endora know what you're up to? Don't you remember," he licked his lips in agitation, "last time? It took a combination of powers to send you back to say your goodbyes to your mortal spouse, and that was it! There was never gonna be a next time! We all agreed on that! And me and Clara had to talk yer folks into helping us open a bridge to send you back for a snippet of time! Now it's not our fault that instead of telling Darrin the truth you decided to let the fool boy hope by promising to return! Because you aint returning! None of us are- ever. This is our home now, so… so lighten up!"

At that moment he snapped his fingers and expected a lighter, but none came. He snapped again, but again nothing.

Sam sighed, seeing the confusion on his face, "Uncle Arthur, I know you are using humor to soothe your fears, but I can't humor you in this. Not only do I need Darrin, but we need to go back home. I have gone with all of you far enough, believing you had a plan other than to run, but I see now you don't. None of you do. And in case you have forgotten-" She gently placed a hand over his so that he could stop snapping his fingers as she softly continued, "-we are tied to that plane. We have our reserve magic for now, but we might as well be batteries. Once it runs out, we lose our magic and we are stuck out here to perish. And this isn't a future, Uncle Arthur. It's a death sentence. And if you won't help me go back for sentimental reasons, than listen to the practical ones- we need the mortal plane to replenish our abilities."

Arthur looked up at her, "Why?"

"Have you already forgotten? It gives us our powers to begin with."

"Sammy," he said in a panicky voice, "I think I tapped out my power here."

"Don't worry Uncle Arthur," she said hollowly, looking up at the vastness of the space around them, "soon we will all be tapped out, and then we will be forced to go back to earth."

"We'll need a plan!" He said loudly, "We can't just show up! In our weakened state they can forget dark matter, they can kill us with bullets!"

She then looked him in the eye, "So will you help me talk to mother? She is one of four powerful witches who can take us all back."

"Your damn right I will!" He said hurriedly, "But she won't listen to us alone! We need to talk to Maria-"

"She prefers to be called Mary-" Sam cut in, but Arthur cut her off, "Whatever the hell her name is now! We need her, Hagatha, Clara, Enchantra, Maurice, you name it! Let's get the whole witches council on board!"

"Now you want to help me?" She seemed unsurprised, but pleased.

Arthur nodded, "My magic isn't my life, but my jokes are. And it seems to me that without the accompaniment of exploding mirrors, ears and large flame lighters," He gulped, lowering his voice to a rather loud whisper, "there's the possibility I may not be funny!"

She feigned shock, "You don't say?!"

He nodded, his face twisted in distraught, "And to think of all the laughs I brought along with me wherever I went!"

"Well, to be fair, not too many people outside the family 'got' your jokes."

He snapped at her, "Not them! Me! I laughed a whole bunch at how funny I was! Now quit yapping and start zapping! We need to see Clara- pronto! While we're still witches!"

And she took ahold of his shoulders and in one quick blink of an eye, they were gone.

()()()

At the Stephen household, Darrin stared into his backyard, hoping for a sign of Sam just like that day when he was tending her rose garden. And he sat, and he waited for another encounter. Behind him, in the streets, he ignored the soldiers. He ignored the tanks. He ignored the ignorance.

He gripped his wedding ring like a drowning man would grip a life preserver.

"Come back to me, Sam." He mumbled.

Meanwhile, out on the streets of Morning Glory Circle, one could hear a drill sergeant and his platoon shout out a cadence:

Momma, momma can't you see,

What the Army's done to me!

I use to date beauty queens,

Now I love my M16!

()()()

"Oh, no you don't, Samantha." Clara shook her head, polishing a handsome doorknob until shined as if it were made of glass, "Endora, Arthur, and a few less powerful witches could send you back for a moment, but all of us re-re-returning is preposterous! The mortals will know-"

"How do they know!?" Samantha shouted, "That is a question I would like answered!"

"And I want a few things answered myself!" Arthur interjected loudly before dropping his voice and saying speedily, "Like You gotta restroom on this cloud? Usually I'd zap away such little trivialities but with my powers all tapped out-"

Clara paused, blinking for a moment before nodding, "I think so, Arthur." She turned to her bag and umbrella, instructing them, "Show Arthur the way, please." Immediately Arthur followed both of them into an orange mist, his shadow fading with each step he took.

Samantha turned to her aunt, desperate, "Aunt Clara, what happened?"

"The siren sang, and we left."

"Explain this to me again please?"

"S-Sam- antha, I explained when you were a little witch-"

Sam cut her off, "I thought it was just a story! I didn't know such a thing could actually happen!"

Clara asked slowly, "Well, what do you recollect of the story I used to tell you before bedtime?"

At this Samantha shrugged helplessly, "I was a child. I only remember you saying that one day The Eternal will decide to suddenly let all the mortals who have ever come into contact with a witch to know what they are and any spells casted over them."

Clara nodded, a ghost of a smile on her lips, "Good, good. And what else?"

Sam started off, unsure, "Witches were afraid of the mortal's reaction. We feared they would try to harm us, so we created the siren song, for all of the witches to know to regroup here, on this plane. And that was why, in the dead of night, I knew I had to leave, and take Tabitha, and-" her voice lowered, "leave Darrin."

Clara said simply, "Good thing too. Here, he would have died instantly."

"Whereas we die slowly." Samantha bitterly interjected.

Clara paused, her eyes on Samantha with sympathy, "You do miss that young man of yours, don't you?"

"With all my heart." Samantha answered honestly.

"And Tabitha?"

"She misses Darrin too, but it's different. I told her that we and the other witches are on a vacation, and eventually we will return, where she'll see Darrin again."

Clara nodded, "The girl can't miss what she doesn't know she's lost. Good for now, Samantha. Bad for later, when she begins to suspect the truth."

"I'm hoping we won't reach such a point and that everyone will come to their senses and we can return to earth."

Clara began polishing her doorknob again, "A-And I suppose the mortals will suddenly come to their senses too? After many vain wars, including two of world war proportions?"

Samantha said firmly, "I said 'everybody', didn't I?"

Clara paused once more, a hopeful ghost of a smile on her lips and a twinkle in her eye, "Oh Samantha, your never-ending optimism and desire to do what is right has always made you a favorite of mine."

Samantha smiled, a twinkle in her own eye, "Right back atcha, Aunt Clara."

At this Clara's smile broadened and she nodded firmly, with a renewed sense of purpose, "Alright. If we are to go back home and figure out what has happened, we must go to The Ancient Book at once!"

They were about to pop out before Samantha suddenly remembered something. She called out, "Uncle Arthur! Hurry up! We're leaving!"

Off in the not-so-far distance they heard his agitated voice, "I hate this damned contraption Clara calls an umbrella! I asked for a restroom, it leads me to an underground cavern! I was attacked by bat-like creatures!"

"What?" Sam asked, her face the picture of confusion.

Clara shrugged, "M-Must've been the vampires. Anywho, let's wait a moment for Arthur and then we'll pop out, dear."

Samantha's face lightened, "Vampires? Are real?"

With a twinkle in her eye, Clara smiled, "Of course they are. As real as a witch. You know Samantha, you have just had-had your feet planted too squarely in-in-in the mortal world too much to forget such a trivial fact. Anyway, I'm- I'm sure Arthur must've just bumped into the Draculas, perfectly alright. That happens to me myself sometimes, since their always hanging around."

"Damn things bit me!" Arthur growled, rubbing his neck, "I hope I don't need a rabies shot after this! Without my powers I'm as helpless as a-" His face cringed horribly, "-a mortal!"

"Calm down, Uncle Arthur. Now Aunt Clara, what does the book say?"

The three were in a room surrounded by red curtains, above them the stars were both dying and just being born. The cosmos stretched out millions of miles to nothingness, and mortal time meant absolutely nothing. Well, except for Samantha who felt she was running out of it. She turned to Aunt Clara who was holding a frail, tattered brown book. However, it was the smallest thing Samantha had ever seen. Clara needed special witch glasses with giant lenses that were about the size of her head to read the Ancient Witch dialect.

Arthur rolled his brown eyes sarcastically, "Oh please Sammy, I'll tell you what it says! It reads in teeny-tiny lettering- DON'T SNEEZE!" He then burst out laughing, "Get it? Don't sneeze? Oh, I still got it!"

Sam simply glared at her comedic uncle, "Oh, honestly!"

Clara ignored them, concentrating on decrypting an ancient language that she had only used in her early years. Finally she nodded, whipping off the giant, magnifying glasses, "This is quite troubling, Sam-Samantha."

Sam dared ask, "How?"

Aunt Clara looked her dead in the eye, "The book predicts everything."

Arthur rolled his eyes, "Will it predict when we'll get out of this place? It's spooky!" He looked up, to find a dark hole growing right over his head, "Gazooks! Look at that! Seen those things a million times and they never get old."

Sam glanced up, in time to see the dark hole consume miniature planets in a single beat. She had to admit, "It is a bit unsettling."

Clara turned to Arthur trying to get the second oldest witch in their trio to understand, "Where do we come from, Arthur?"

Arthur jumped at the sound of thunder pounding all around the red room, "I don't know! I just know that I was!"

Clara turned to Samantha, hoping she would know. After all, Endora's daughter was always very bright and perceptive, "Where do we come from, Samantha?"

Before Samantha had time to open her mouth, Arthur jumped in, "She came from Endora, bless her heart."

Samantha rolled her eyes, irritated, but Clara nodded, a grandmother-ish smile on her face, "Yes. Exactly. Samantha is a second generation witch. We, myself and you, Arthur; Endora and Maurice, and the elders, are all first generation."

Arthur blurted out, "Then why I am young and studly and you're-" Clara shot him a look and he quickly recovered, "old- fashioned."

"The first generations came in waves, Arthur." Clara clarified, "Three to be exact. I came in the very first wave, Endora, Maurice and most of your other uncles and aunts the second, Arthur and a few stragglers came in third."

"Aunt Clara, this doesn't make any sense." Samantha shook her head, "What are you talking about?"

Clara's eyes darkened, "Our origins… are evil, Samantha."

She paused. Endora alluded to such when she was very young, but absolutely refused to speak of it. So, she knew there were dark roots, but she didn't know how far they stretched or exactly what they were. But, given the mortals history & mythology, she could guess.

She didn't like her guess, but she said it anyway, "Devil worshippers?"

Slowly, Aunt Clara turned her cheek, a silent affirmation of Samantha's suspicion. But Arthur was not having it, "Wait a second here! I don't remember worshipping anything like that! I am a warlock of simple tastes! I enjoy a good hot foot and fake vomit as much as the next guy, unless of course the next guy is Richard Nixon, but-"

Clara interrupted him, "The Eternal made man, in his image. The Darkness, which had lost its war against The Eternal, twisted such an image and created us."

"Aunt Clara, forgive me, but I don't understand-"

"Samantha, the very first wave of the first generation remembers. We weren't always witches. I mean, look at us."

Sam took a step back. Aunt Clara looked just like any other elderly woman. With light hair, a motherly warmth, a confused yet sharp as a tack mind… and Uncle Arthur looked like any man. Tall, brown hair, brown eyes, an infectious laugh…

And then it hit her. In a whisper, she acknowledged it,

"We're… we were once… human. We were once..." She then whispered the word, "mortal. "