Summary: This is a story coming from Cole's POV as though he's speaking to
Phoebe after he's been vanquished. Initially, it's his thoughts on his
life, and his relationship with Phoebe. As a twist, it turns out that
little Wyatt is the only one able to see Cole's spirit watching over the
Halliwells.
Rating: PG-13 for occasional language and other topics.
Copyright Information: I do not own or claim to own anything relating to Charmed. All characters and such are the property of the WB and whomever else owns the rights to the show. However I do claim this continuation of the storyline as my own brainchild. Don't sue me, because I don't have enough money to make it worthwhile; really, I'm a freshman in high school without a job. And you can't have my lunch money, because I need to eat, so there.
I also don't own the song "Wherever You Will Go" by The Calling. I suppose that group owns it or something; it's sure not me.
Also, for some reason Fanfiction.net has a hard time figuring out bold/italicized/etc. text whenever I upload word documents; I apologize, there's nothing I can do about it.
And now that all the technicalities are over, we move on to the story.
Wherever You Will Go
Prologue
"Phoebe, what're you doing? Hurry, throw it, before he shimmers out!"
"She's not going to throw it. Are you?"
"Phoebe, are you out of your mind, throw it!"
"We've been through too much, haven't we, Phoebe? Our love is too strong; nothing can destroy it, not even this. We're meant to be together."
"I don't think so."
"Noooooo!"
No matter how many times I relive that memory, it still hurts me. I'm not talking about physical pain, though there was certainly plenty of that. I'm talking about the way my heart felt as though it were being ripped to pieces when you threw the potion.
I was so confident that you wouldn't throw it, so sure that my first vanquishing had been some sort of fluke. Even when you spoke and denounced our love, I still thought that you would hold back; that in an instant you would realize your mistake. But that instant never came.
I wish that I could say most of the events following my death were a blur to me; I wish I could say that I really don't remember what happened after I died. But it didn't happen that way, and I have no use for lies any more. Lies are used to manipulate and deceive; I have neither the power nor the desire to do either.
You see, as I gradually slipped into madness, death became an obsession for me. I had totally abandoned viewing my invincibility as a gift; for me, it became the cruelest of curses. I managed to convince myself that if I died, the pain would all end; I believed that forces from both sides would ensure that my spirit were obliterated entirely. Neither of them wanted me to find some way to return a third time to earth. I believed that death was the answer, the only way out.
That conclusion was proven wrong shortly after my flesh was incinerated by the potion. Instead of the blissful numbness I had expected, I found myself standing in a place where the dark purple sky was routinely marked with jagged flashes of lightning. The soil I stood on was red, like the color of blood. I discovered that my hands and legs were rendered useless by magical bonds; I was helpless, able only to stand and await whatever destiny had in store for me.
I heard two voices near me, though as far as I could tell there was no one else anywhere in my vicinity. "You still wish to do this? You know that he is rightfully your property; you can still back out. Once the ceremony begins, it cannot be stopped." The first voice carried a certain pure feeling to it, and I knew that it represented the Light.
"We are sure; he has caused too much trouble in the Underworld as of late. He won't submit to his demonic half as he used to. He's too hard for us to control. Be done with it so that my kin and I don't have to bear your sickeningly Good presence any longer." I instinctively recognized this voice, the voice of Evil. It was a voice that had once been master over me, but not any more.
Suddenly, I felt a searing hot pain rush through my body. I screamed louder than I ever had in my life. It felt as though someone were ripping me apart, limb from limb. In a few minutes, it was over. I gradually became aware that a part of me had disappeared; my demonic half was gone entirely. It was a strange feeling, to have finally eradicated the evil that used to smolder in my soul.
Then, without warning, everything faded away into darkness. I was suspended in a realm that was neither Heaven nor Hell. Demons and angels alike had both forsaken me; neither side was willing to take my soul into their custody. Looking back, I don't blame them.
Surrounded by a vast nothingness, I had nothing that I could focus on. It was inevitable that my thoughts would eventually turn to my last few moments of life, as well as our relationship. I think that might have been part of what the two sides intended when they decided my fate. It was the ultimate punishment, to be forced to exist with the pain raging inside of me.
Initially, I tried to block out the images that assaulted my mind; I knew that they would bring too much turmoil with them, and I didn't want to deal with it. But eventually, my defenses became depleted, and I allowed myself to remember.
I remembered when we first met, and how I had dreamed of the glory that would follow once I destroyed the Power of Three. Then my mortal half fell in love with you, and I started to waver from the path I had been traveling on for so many years. You won't acknowledge it, Phoebe, but it was you who brought out the good in me.
I became a double-agent, always trying to cover my tracks. I knew that both witches and demons were hunting me, but for our love I was willing to risk my life. Then the Source possessed me, and we became rulers of the Underworld together. I was intoxicated by the power the Source represented, and I was only dimly aware that what he was forcing me to do was wrong. I did want our baby to live, Phoebe. I didn't want our child to become a creature of evil, a creature that was incapable of love. But I was powerless to stop events that snowballed, one after the other.
The first vanquishing didn't break my heart, not entirely. I thought that you would take me back, once I told you that I would use my powers only for good. So, I fought my way out of the pit of souls I had been submerged in; I emerged more powerful than either of us could ever have imagined.
My dreams were shattered again when you rejected me after my return. I vowed to keep trying, but eventually I sank into depression. From there, I went to madness. When I was offered the chance to get you back, I leapt at it; I didn't pause to think out the consequences. Then everything became a whirlwind of mistakes, and you killed me.
As the memories melded and mixed together in my thoughts, I realized that I was able to see things in a different view. Without my demonic half, I was able to see clearly the signs that you were hurting just as badly as me; I saw how you would tense up, how there was always a flash of pain in your eyes before the anger. And I realized that the Balthazar in me had ultimately destroyed us.
Of course, it's too late now for me to apologize. It's too late for me to say that I was wrong, and that I never meant to hurt you like I have. The words of the dead would not reach your ears unless magic interfered, and magic has deserted me.
I'm not sure how long I was suspended in the darkness; time somehow loses its significance when you die. But after I had relived our memories many times, I became aware that the darkness was fading away. As it dissipated, I found myself standing in your bedroom. You were slumbering in your bed, the covers wrapped tightly around your body. I thought that I was hallucinating, or that I had gone mad once more; but as I watched your chest rise and fall with the steady rhythm of your breathing, I realized that this was real.
I reached out a hand to touch your cheek, and felt my throat tighten as it passed right through you. I was nothing more than a ghost, a wandering spirit. Your eyes fluttered open briefly as you rolled over on your side, but you didn't see me; I was invisible. I could not interfere or manipulate your life; all I could do was watch.
I stood there all night, drinking in the image of you. When you eventually woke up the next morning, your eyes didn't even flicker in my direction. I was only a few feet away from your bed, yet you walked right through my nonexistent body to get to your dresser. You reached over to turn on the radio, and a song played softly.
So lately, been wondering, who will be there to take my place? When I'm gone, you'll need love, to light the shadows on your face. If a great wave shall fall, it will fall upon us all. And between the sand and stone, could you make it on your own?
If I could, then I would. I'll go wherever you will go. Way up high, or down low, I'll go wherever you will go.
And maybe, I'll find out, a way to make it back someday To want you, to guide you, through the darkest of your days. If a great wave shall fall, it would fall upon us all. Well I hope there's someone out there who can bring me back to you!
If I could, then I would. I'll go wherever you will go. Way up high, or down low, I'll go wherever you will go.
Runaway with my heart; Runaway with my hope; Runaway with my love.
I know now, just quite how, my life and love might still go on. In your heart, in your mind, I'll stay with you for all time!
If I could, then I would. I'll go wherever you will go. Way up high, or down low, I'll go wherever you will go.
If I could turn back time I'll go wherever you will go If I could make you mine I'll go wherever you will go
When you turned to face me, I was surprised to see tears in your eyes. You angrily wiped them away, and I heard you whisper, "Why can't I just forget him?" Then you were walking down the stairs, pushing away the emotions as I had tried to push away memories. I could only watch, every fiber of my being aching to wrap you in my arms.
End of Prologue
Review Plea: The way I function is this: the more reviews I receive, the faster I will update. I can't put it any simpler than that..
Rating: PG-13 for occasional language and other topics.
Copyright Information: I do not own or claim to own anything relating to Charmed. All characters and such are the property of the WB and whomever else owns the rights to the show. However I do claim this continuation of the storyline as my own brainchild. Don't sue me, because I don't have enough money to make it worthwhile; really, I'm a freshman in high school without a job. And you can't have my lunch money, because I need to eat, so there.
I also don't own the song "Wherever You Will Go" by The Calling. I suppose that group owns it or something; it's sure not me.
Also, for some reason Fanfiction.net has a hard time figuring out bold/italicized/etc. text whenever I upload word documents; I apologize, there's nothing I can do about it.
And now that all the technicalities are over, we move on to the story.
Wherever You Will Go
Prologue
"Phoebe, what're you doing? Hurry, throw it, before he shimmers out!"
"She's not going to throw it. Are you?"
"Phoebe, are you out of your mind, throw it!"
"We've been through too much, haven't we, Phoebe? Our love is too strong; nothing can destroy it, not even this. We're meant to be together."
"I don't think so."
"Noooooo!"
No matter how many times I relive that memory, it still hurts me. I'm not talking about physical pain, though there was certainly plenty of that. I'm talking about the way my heart felt as though it were being ripped to pieces when you threw the potion.
I was so confident that you wouldn't throw it, so sure that my first vanquishing had been some sort of fluke. Even when you spoke and denounced our love, I still thought that you would hold back; that in an instant you would realize your mistake. But that instant never came.
I wish that I could say most of the events following my death were a blur to me; I wish I could say that I really don't remember what happened after I died. But it didn't happen that way, and I have no use for lies any more. Lies are used to manipulate and deceive; I have neither the power nor the desire to do either.
You see, as I gradually slipped into madness, death became an obsession for me. I had totally abandoned viewing my invincibility as a gift; for me, it became the cruelest of curses. I managed to convince myself that if I died, the pain would all end; I believed that forces from both sides would ensure that my spirit were obliterated entirely. Neither of them wanted me to find some way to return a third time to earth. I believed that death was the answer, the only way out.
That conclusion was proven wrong shortly after my flesh was incinerated by the potion. Instead of the blissful numbness I had expected, I found myself standing in a place where the dark purple sky was routinely marked with jagged flashes of lightning. The soil I stood on was red, like the color of blood. I discovered that my hands and legs were rendered useless by magical bonds; I was helpless, able only to stand and await whatever destiny had in store for me.
I heard two voices near me, though as far as I could tell there was no one else anywhere in my vicinity. "You still wish to do this? You know that he is rightfully your property; you can still back out. Once the ceremony begins, it cannot be stopped." The first voice carried a certain pure feeling to it, and I knew that it represented the Light.
"We are sure; he has caused too much trouble in the Underworld as of late. He won't submit to his demonic half as he used to. He's too hard for us to control. Be done with it so that my kin and I don't have to bear your sickeningly Good presence any longer." I instinctively recognized this voice, the voice of Evil. It was a voice that had once been master over me, but not any more.
Suddenly, I felt a searing hot pain rush through my body. I screamed louder than I ever had in my life. It felt as though someone were ripping me apart, limb from limb. In a few minutes, it was over. I gradually became aware that a part of me had disappeared; my demonic half was gone entirely. It was a strange feeling, to have finally eradicated the evil that used to smolder in my soul.
Then, without warning, everything faded away into darkness. I was suspended in a realm that was neither Heaven nor Hell. Demons and angels alike had both forsaken me; neither side was willing to take my soul into their custody. Looking back, I don't blame them.
Surrounded by a vast nothingness, I had nothing that I could focus on. It was inevitable that my thoughts would eventually turn to my last few moments of life, as well as our relationship. I think that might have been part of what the two sides intended when they decided my fate. It was the ultimate punishment, to be forced to exist with the pain raging inside of me.
Initially, I tried to block out the images that assaulted my mind; I knew that they would bring too much turmoil with them, and I didn't want to deal with it. But eventually, my defenses became depleted, and I allowed myself to remember.
I remembered when we first met, and how I had dreamed of the glory that would follow once I destroyed the Power of Three. Then my mortal half fell in love with you, and I started to waver from the path I had been traveling on for so many years. You won't acknowledge it, Phoebe, but it was you who brought out the good in me.
I became a double-agent, always trying to cover my tracks. I knew that both witches and demons were hunting me, but for our love I was willing to risk my life. Then the Source possessed me, and we became rulers of the Underworld together. I was intoxicated by the power the Source represented, and I was only dimly aware that what he was forcing me to do was wrong. I did want our baby to live, Phoebe. I didn't want our child to become a creature of evil, a creature that was incapable of love. But I was powerless to stop events that snowballed, one after the other.
The first vanquishing didn't break my heart, not entirely. I thought that you would take me back, once I told you that I would use my powers only for good. So, I fought my way out of the pit of souls I had been submerged in; I emerged more powerful than either of us could ever have imagined.
My dreams were shattered again when you rejected me after my return. I vowed to keep trying, but eventually I sank into depression. From there, I went to madness. When I was offered the chance to get you back, I leapt at it; I didn't pause to think out the consequences. Then everything became a whirlwind of mistakes, and you killed me.
As the memories melded and mixed together in my thoughts, I realized that I was able to see things in a different view. Without my demonic half, I was able to see clearly the signs that you were hurting just as badly as me; I saw how you would tense up, how there was always a flash of pain in your eyes before the anger. And I realized that the Balthazar in me had ultimately destroyed us.
Of course, it's too late now for me to apologize. It's too late for me to say that I was wrong, and that I never meant to hurt you like I have. The words of the dead would not reach your ears unless magic interfered, and magic has deserted me.
I'm not sure how long I was suspended in the darkness; time somehow loses its significance when you die. But after I had relived our memories many times, I became aware that the darkness was fading away. As it dissipated, I found myself standing in your bedroom. You were slumbering in your bed, the covers wrapped tightly around your body. I thought that I was hallucinating, or that I had gone mad once more; but as I watched your chest rise and fall with the steady rhythm of your breathing, I realized that this was real.
I reached out a hand to touch your cheek, and felt my throat tighten as it passed right through you. I was nothing more than a ghost, a wandering spirit. Your eyes fluttered open briefly as you rolled over on your side, but you didn't see me; I was invisible. I could not interfere or manipulate your life; all I could do was watch.
I stood there all night, drinking in the image of you. When you eventually woke up the next morning, your eyes didn't even flicker in my direction. I was only a few feet away from your bed, yet you walked right through my nonexistent body to get to your dresser. You reached over to turn on the radio, and a song played softly.
So lately, been wondering, who will be there to take my place? When I'm gone, you'll need love, to light the shadows on your face. If a great wave shall fall, it will fall upon us all. And between the sand and stone, could you make it on your own?
If I could, then I would. I'll go wherever you will go. Way up high, or down low, I'll go wherever you will go.
And maybe, I'll find out, a way to make it back someday To want you, to guide you, through the darkest of your days. If a great wave shall fall, it would fall upon us all. Well I hope there's someone out there who can bring me back to you!
If I could, then I would. I'll go wherever you will go. Way up high, or down low, I'll go wherever you will go.
Runaway with my heart; Runaway with my hope; Runaway with my love.
I know now, just quite how, my life and love might still go on. In your heart, in your mind, I'll stay with you for all time!
If I could, then I would. I'll go wherever you will go. Way up high, or down low, I'll go wherever you will go.
If I could turn back time I'll go wherever you will go If I could make you mine I'll go wherever you will go
When you turned to face me, I was surprised to see tears in your eyes. You angrily wiped them away, and I heard you whisper, "Why can't I just forget him?" Then you were walking down the stairs, pushing away the emotions as I had tried to push away memories. I could only watch, every fiber of my being aching to wrap you in my arms.
End of Prologue
Review Plea: The way I function is this: the more reviews I receive, the faster I will update. I can't put it any simpler than that..