A/N: Holy HELL! Well, let's just say that a lot of things have changed, and then I found this gem of a chapter, stashed away in my computer. I know that I have taken close to two years to update, and most of you thought me dead and are more or less pissed at my lack of updating, but I can assure you that it was some pretty rotten circumstances that graced my life (Grandma battling and losing to cancer, having to help raise brothers and sisters while mom was helping said grandma... it's a longer list...), so I have lovingly picked this story back up, and have begun to brush off the cobwebs and crusty corners.

So all that to say... I'll be trying to revamp and retool. I just need you guys to give me a good kick in the ass once in a while to get me going. :)

Music To listen Too (if you feel so inclined): "New Divide"- Linkin Park, "From Ritz to the Rubble"- The Artic Monkeys, "The Great Divide"- Jonathan Elias (For you classical lovers out there :) ))

And please, again, don't flame me. ;_;

"Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head "

Rain brought change. It herald spring, made things green, and could take life just as quickly as it could provide. Rain was inherently magical. Ancient races had worshipped the rain, the sky that provided it, and always associated it with fertility. Rain was a sign of change. Intrinsically, Phoebe knew this. Phoebe knew that this rain was going to bring the greatest change that they had ever faced. She could smell it; and from the way that Paige and Piper had become increasingly antsy as "zero hour" approached, they could feel the change as well.

Magic was in the rain. The hair on Phoebe's arm stood with the feel of it clinging in each and every drop that fell.

"I don't like this," Paige stated for the fifteenth time in the ten minute span. Piper had already snapped at her and then apologized. Nobody could blame the eldest Charmed One. Her face was tight and drawn and weariness wrapped about her in the way that her hair fell around in sweaty wisps. Arguably, she had the most to lose if this whole ordeal went south as most encounters tended to do.

"Magic is in the air," Leo agreed, looking through the Book. He didn't have magic, but one did not live in contact with magic for more than half a century without being able to practically taste it. "It's not a natural rain."

"Thank you captain obvious," Paige quipped, rubbing the back of her neck and orbing a potion ingredient towards her. It looked like foxglove, which Phoebe had been convinced they had been out of. Piper sent Paige a glare, and the youngest at least had the decency to look a bit abashed. "What?"

Piper let out a tight laugh, relaxing ever so slightly at Paige's simple look.

"Nothing," Piper breathed, resting her hand on the glass bottles and passing them over to Phoebe who stood before the caldron, stirring first clockwise, then counter clockwise.

"You aren't still trying to come up with a potion to vanquish the Alterian, are you?" Leo asked, glancing over the shoulder of the brunette. Phoebe looked up, barely over the shoulder and met him with a mild glare. She wasn't nearly as good as it as Piper was, but Leo could tell that she had been practicing in the very least.

"What does it matter if I am?" She quipped, childishly almost. Though she knew that Leo was only trying to help, it didn't hurt to be prepared, did it? Leo sighed, rubbing the back of his neck again. It was a habit he picked up when he felt particularly exasperated or in need of smacking something. It was better than hurting his hand (the table certainly wouldn't be hurt if he decided to punch it). Looking at the spell that Phoebe had been going off of, he snorted.

"This is just going to piss him off," Leo stated, succinctly. Piper grabbed the paper from his hand. It was a Power of Three spell. She glanced and Phoebe who wasn't quite meeting her glance, but when she did, had a dark, rebellious look in her deep chocolate eyes that Piper had thought she had long since outgrown. Prue had been on the receiving ends of such glares more often than not.

"It won't hurt," She decided after a moment, setting the paper down.

"But..." Leo began, staring at Piper with a frown flickering across his face.

"It won't hurt," Piper repeated, firmly, leveling a cool, calm stare at her husband that had him backing up just the smallest amount.

Who knew, this thing might not even be an Alterian. For all they knew, it could be some demon with a glamour on, powerful enough to fool them. It could just be a demon, and then there was no need to be freaking out. They could handle this and get back to the lull of peacefulness.

"No demon could cause a storm like this," Leo tried to reason. To himself, mostly. They generally listened to his advice. Generally, but when it came to "mama bear mode" as the ex-Whitelighter affectionately called it, there was not stopping the Charmed Ones when they were in full swing, trying to protect their own. And unfortunately or not, he now fit into the category of "own that needed to be protected at all costs because he doesn't have any magical powers anymore." He'd have to come up with a more brief name when there wasn't a crisis.

"Well, what is the worst thing the could happen if you pissed him off and he really was an Alterian anyways?" Paige looked up from the bottle potions, one for each sister for the demon. It was sad to say that his name slipped in and out of their minds every so often; however, when faced with the prospect of a being of pure, unadulterated elemental magic, things such as demon attacks (a regular occurrence) tended to take a back burner. "I mean, really, the Source of All Evil was taken down by the Power of Three."

Leo considered her question a moment, resting his hand against the counter and sucking on his lower lip. The rest of the sisters had stopped what they were doing momentarily to stare at him. He had their attention, and he was not going to waste this time trying to talk some sort of sense into them.

"Do you remember hearing about the Flood?"

"As in Genesis and Noah and the Arky Arky?" Paige questioned, crossing her arms over her chest and cocking her hip in an almost offended pose.

"That's the one," Paige rolled her doe-like eyes, shaking her head at the obvious lack of any sort of knowledge her brother-in-law seemed to think that she had.

"Who doesn't remember the Flood?"

"An Alterian caused it," Leo tapped his lips. "There isn't much written on the race. They have been around for eons and eons, and what little information on them that survived the purges of time is inconclusive. But up there they say that a young Alterian, coming into his powers, was jilted by a lover and the anger that he felt caused a torrential rain to descend upon the earth and destroy it."

Phoebe whistled, lowly, turning off the burner under the cauldron and looking at Leo. Her fingers drummed thoughtfully upon the table, lips pursed.

"What else?"

"Dinosaurs?" Leo provided. "Supposedly the Alterians destroyed them too. Another accident. That could be how they began to restrict the emotions of the lower cast. They are not known for their overwhelming emotional outbursts. The lower Alterians are not allowed to feel and are blocked from doing so, supposedly."

"And the higher ones?"

"Nobody has ever come into contact with a Highbreed Alterian," Leo shrugged. "And what little we know about the lower tiers of the Alterian society extends to legend, myth, and lies. Up There doesn't know much about the race either. And the Avatars knew even less." And he had been with all of them.

"So you are saying," Phoebe bean, slowly, reaching for the spell she had written and waving it about. "That even if we hit him with a Power of Three spell, if he is of the lower tier of Alterians, we could cause another Genesis Flood or wipe out... I don't know... some sort of animal from existence?"

Leo winced.

"Yes?" Piper let out a breath, clapping her hands together in mimicry of a football coach or player. A fire crackled in her light brown eyes.

"So what if he is a Highbreed Alterian?" She asked, cocking her head to the side.

"Then he's probably got enough control over his emotions to keep from getting pissed off, but probably has the power to wink the world out of existence."

"No Genesis flood?" Paige questioned, a bit hopefully. Her head was tilted upwards a bit.

"I'm guessing Atomic Bomb. Only quicker. There probably wouldn't even be fragments," Leo sighed, feeling a bit queasy about the idea of the world just "winking out of existence" as he put it. All the history and balance lost if some sort of being lost his temper. It was entirely too much power. It made one wonder just how the Alterians had been hunted to near extinction.

"Quick. Very Quick," Paige whistled, "At least it's quicker than the Flood," she returned to the vials of potions, pushing back up the sleeves on her white blouse and handing each vial to her sisters. Her gaze flickered to the clock, resting her fingers reassuringly over reach person's hands. Phoebe's cool ones, Piper's smooth, yet firm ones, and Leo's slightly calloused one's. "Looks like zero hour is here." Phoebe let out a breath and looked through the window were the demon would be settling. It was the least of her worries if her visions had been correct. Azazel was supposed to come in, screaming and hissing in true demon form.

"You know what to do," Piper informed Leo, kissing him quickly on the lips and staring upwards with a deep affection in her eyes. Above that there was her typical need to protect, and Leo wasn't going to argue with her.

"Stay in the house. No matter what I hear. At least," Leo added as an afterthought, strong arms wrapping about her waist and holding her close. His nose buried itself in her hairs and his eyes, for however brief a moment, closed and he inhaled, letting her mothering, earthy scent soothe whatever nerves he felt. "this time." Piper smiled ever so slightly.

"And whenever I tell you, else I'll have to kick your butt," She released her husband, joining her sisters. Paige gave a good luck "thumbs up" sign, her face attempting and failing a bit to seem... unworried. Phoebe gave him a wobbly smile, which he accepted.

"So don't piss off the Alterian?" Paige asked, one final, hopeful question. Because it would be so much easier to piss him off and vanquish him than to deal with whatever news he brought. She shifted from foot to foot, antsy.

"Right, don't piss off the super powerful being sent to perhaps protect the greater good."

They had sent him to face them. They had sent him with the utmost confidence in his abilities. He was, after all, more than qualified to take on witches long past their prime. He was part of the inner sanctum. He had been that much closer to the Source of All Evil. He knew what the Charmed ones were capable of, and he was prepared to deal with them accordingly.

His golden head, the mockery of the angelic host, bowed ever so slightly, his handsome, sharp face arrayed into a mask of indifference. Braids of the corn silk locks licked the side of his clean shaven face, and what wasn't held back by braids was cascading and erupting in a riot of wild curls that seemed to defy the rain that tumbled from the sky. In fact, the person in question did not seem the least bit annoyed by the rain that he was currently standing in, a bulwark against the elements. Though it was hard to tell whether or not he would actually show the annoyance even if it did come to pass. For all intents and purposes, he seemed like a normal, handsome human, save the small horns the curled from his forehead.

Azazel of the Precipice was not pleased. He just didn't show it. Not quite yet. Not until the woman came from the house. Not until they walked through the door and confronted him with their pitiful powers. He wouldn't lose his temper, he would allow the poison of anger to wash over him, bottled and contained like the nastiest, sweetest poison and taint his powers. For there was where true power lay, in the anger and the ability to channel it.

His thin lips parted, tilting up his head and meeting the rain defiantly. The braids fell to the side, resting against the black cloak and black doublet. He was of the older sort, and was suited quite well to the old garb when on a mission such as this. No need existed to reside among the sniveling, scuttling humans, and soon he would be back, plotting in the Underworld with his master.

"Come out, come out, come out," The voice sounded like it had been infused with gravel, low and deep and guttural. His teeth clacked together, avoiding a pink tongue with sharp, yellowed fangs as he spoke, and the rigid form that he had taken before melted away as he loped forward, more beast than man in the gait. His fingers clicked together, stretching and moving in a fashion that wasn't natural at all.

"You sure that you want us to come out?" A definitely feminine voice. The demon took a breath, reveling in the scent of witch. A scent that meant victory. It was the eldest one. It had to be the eldest one. "You have disturbed our peace," The voice continued. Sickly yellow eyes trailed over the back yard, over the plants and toward the house where he could make out the form of a woman. No, that wasn't right, was it? Three woman. He could smell them each, the earth of the eldest, the water of the middle, and the air of the youngest. He could smell and taste them, taste their anger and discomfort and desire to protect. He inhaled again.

"I'm quite sure," He growled, and could practically smell the annoyance that rippled through them. His booted feet made an ominous sound on the stone of their patio, cape lightly rippling behind him in unnatural wind. "Don't you think that you want to see me too?"

"We can see you just fine from here," Paige Matthews. It had to be the Whitelighter. The angelic essence was practically coating the voice, making him nauseous and annoyed.

"Well I can't see you, isn't it a good idea to see your advisory before you die?" His voice was attempting to sound sweet. It rose a few octaves, honey replacing the gravel as he whispered, almost there. He could make out each individual face through the blasted rain.

"I don't know, why don't you tell us?" A shuffling and he could see as they threw a potion. It rammed against the ground with a crackling explosion. And there was light, so much light. It burned against his eyes as he inhaled again, head tilted back and the rocky laughter spilling from his lips.

"Nice try," He commented, and heard a bit more frantic shuffling. His head tilted back downwards coquettishly, "but you are going to have to do much better if you wish to defeat the likes of me."

"They will not have to," A deep voice echoed. It moved about, whispering with the something beyond demon or witch or angels. It caused Azazel's teeth to ache and clench together. Those words, that voice.

"What?" He hissed, looking through the rain that seemed to grown denser with the addition of this new stranger. Fear, an uncommon emotion that had never been a part of his vocabulary crept through his spine like a punch to the gut. He wheezed a bit, hawk yellow eyes catching a glimpsed of the Charmed ones. They were shifting together, faces a bit uncertain as the voice continued.

"You will no longer trouble the Charmed Ones," The voice continued, all around him. It was in his ear, in his head, crawling about his skin, thousands of worms. His clawed fingers scratched at his skin.

"What makes you think that you stand a chance against me?" He screamed toward the rain, looking about frantically. Just what was this? What sort of ally did the Charmed Ones possess? For this was no power of the Witches Three.

"Because," The voice continued. The rain stopped, the drizzle lessened, revealing a man. Just a man then. He was hunched in the most peculiar manner, what the demon assumed was his back toward him. "You have already sealed your fate."

"What do you mean?" The Charmed Ones were forgotten for the moment. The rain continued to fade, misting away, and revealing more and more. A small orb whipped about wildly, blinking in a sparkling light. It settled across the mans shoulder in a way that vaguely reminded the demon of a snake/cat mix. There was something off about the silhouette now.

"You were dead," The figure stated, emotionless and stood to its full height. White, that was all that could be seen, an all consuming white. It had wings, such pure wings. The feathers glistened as they stretched and his back arched, showing off the frame. A wonderfully powerful frame with sloping muscles. The wings shivered in the wind and the sun peeked behind the nearly blacked clouds, casting a glow around the figure.

"What?"

"You were dead, Azazel of the Precipice," The figure stated, turning a masked face toward him. There were no eyes, a soulless expression adorned the simple mask. There was nothing absolutely nothing on the porcelain or perhaps plastic that covered the winged beings features from view. The voice didn't give away anything other than cold justice and the fear spiked.

"You cannot kill me," Azazel commented, straightening his back for a moment, glaring at the creature. "Even the fabled Charmed Ones could not kill me."

"Given the chance," the creature continued, walking forward. His steps were not loud. They were barely existent as he glided onward, a wraith upon the wind. A ghostly farce of what true beings, true passions were. His hands reached forward, gauntlets attached to strong hands that gripped the demon's face. "They would have defeated you," The creature smelled of nothing and everything at the same time. Like the creation and death of the universe. Pure spirit. Nothing human or demon. The smell burned and destroyed his nose. "Just as I am going to defeat you."

The hands tightened ever so slightly, and Azazel had barely enough time to register before he was no more but a plume of fire, the very symbol of a creature of passion that was trapped beneath the face of the Alterian.

He was beautiful.

That was the only world that could describe him. His body was human, but there was no way that those wings could belong to any sort of human being. And his body was built, obviously. Beneath the armor there were arcs and curves that undulated as he moved with each step. His clothing, clothe in some places swirled as he moved towards Azazel with all the loping grace of a wolf.

"Is that him?" Paige whispered, obviously as transfixed as Phoebe was. Her voice contained a hint of awe as the three Charmed sisters stared. His hands moved gracefully, inhumanly, touching the side of the creatures face before the demon burst into flames.

"Yep," Piper grunted, watching as the Alterian stood back, settling on his heels and letting out a breath. "How long would you say he had been there for?"

"Since the beginning," Phoebe whispered back. "He's been there since the beginning," Her gaze narrowed, fingers tightening about the vanquishing potion. Power was practically hanging in the air. Pure magic that made her insides twist and her legs to jitter with nervous energy. Antsy. The magic made her antsy like she had sucked on a unicorn's horn or ingested the unicorn's pure magic. "We can't let that keep going."

"Do you think that we have a choice?" Paige whispered, looking at Phoebe with a bit of apprehension. "He just turned that demon into Barbeque and didn't even break a sweat. I think that we should just..."

"What is your name?"

"... wait and see?"

The thing turned toward them, inclining its masked head. He seemed to consider them for a moment, and the small orb about his neck floated from its perch, approaching with some trepidation. The same trepidation that the sisters felt toward it. Reaching forward, it shone with a curious light, shifting shape from orb to oblong pill and back to orb before settling on Phoebe first and making a soft cooing noise. It whirled forward, ghosting about her legs and then turned attention to Piper and Paige, making another obviously pleased sound.

The figure watched, silently. He didn't make a move toward them, just stood with his wings outstretched. All six of them. Wind rustled against them, musically almost. He didn't exude any emotion, however, and Phoebe was hit by a sudden sadness of the fact. There wasn't a pleasure at having defeated an enemy. There wasn't even any blood lust. Nothing, nothing at all. A brick wall blockaded her senses, and the feeling reminded her of having an arm cut off or maybe a heart. Something. How could a living, breathing creature feel nothing at all? No, that wasn't true, there was an echo of emotions, but he was like a pumpkin, hollowed out and empty except a few extra seeds and the smell of the innards.

"Again," She took a step forward, ignoring the arm that snatched out to stop her. Piper made a nose of warning in the back of her throat, and Phoebe turned, petite nose scrunched up in a warning. "I ask who you are."

Piper was almost afraid that he would refuse her sister's demands and she would have to try and use her power on him. Though if what Leo had said was true, they would probably only serve to piss the creature off. But from the way that he had handled the demon, she wasn't quite sure what she could do to get him off kilter. Her hand tightened around Phoebe's arm, stopping her a second time.

"Gabriel," It spoke. The first time that the voice had been directed at them. Familiar in an unpleasant way, it washed over their nerves. Paige turned to Phoebe who nodded, once. The creature turned to the side, curling those wings back about himself in a downy cloak. "Gabriel of the Alterians, Arbiter for this world."

"Arbiter?" Paige mouthed. Piper shrugged, nodding toward Phoebe who was taking another step before both girls could catch her. Her pretty face was arrayed in a frown, an angry frown.

"You seem familiar to me," She admitted, hands going to her shapely hips. "Have we met?" The Alterian, Gabriel shifted from side to side, masked face turned up toward the sun. It hid his hair even, impossible to tell its color, curls or no. It made Phoebe mad.

"I suppose we may have a lifetime ago," Gabriel agreed, lifting a hand toward the sun. The orb that had been hanging about the floor for the time being scooted forward, wrapping about the outstretched arm and settling with a content little blip of light. Would the face beneath that mask be smiling, would it be frowning? Phoebe nodded to Paige again.

"You will not tell me more?"

The thing inclined its head a bit.

"I do not feel the need, no."

"Mask!" The creature seemed to sigh at this. Almost as if it had been expecting what was about to happen. The mask disappeared, revealing at first nothing. Nothing except a mass of short curls of the richest chestnut. they curled about the nape of a slightly tanned neck. Phoebe felt her heart increase, fear and anger mingling together into a potent toxin. Paige handed Piper the mask, and the eldest remarked slowly on the odd texture.

"It will bring you only anger as our fates are entwined for the time being," Without the mask, his words were clearer, more crisp. The barest shadow of his jaw moved, and he turned his head ever so slightly, revealing a swirling mark that disappeared beneath the white scarf that was tucked into the light armor and down into the sarong and greaves about his hips, marked with much of the same swirls.

"What I have in mind is a whole hell of a lot worse than anger," Phoebe's voice rose, the anger tinting her normally docile tones. She shook a bit, and Paige placed a hand on her shoulder. Thin fingers reached upwards, touching the hand and squeezing.

"You knew," Paige stated after a moment, realizing. "You knew that I was going to take the mask. It's why you turned your face away. You know us. You know enough about our powers; therefore, you have either known us or done some extensive research."

He sighed.

"Yes," Not weary, almost like he was talking to a petulant child. "I knew. And I am giving you a chance. The truth is worse than the lies. You will not like when you dig too deeply, Paige Matthews."

Paige blinked.

"Leo said that you were here because you are guardian of the balance. If you are here as a force of good or evil, it is no matter. We deserve the truth," Piper remarked, voice forged of steel and iron and a woman's fury.

"I am here to protect you, and that is all you need to know," However he turned toward them. His eyes remained cast downwards and there was a sharp intake of breath. His nose, the curly hair, the lips that were full and used to be so expressive, but what was horrible were the eyes. Blue, once such a striking, passionate shade of vivid azure stared forward, glassy and full of nothing when they had been filled with such hate, and if Piper remembered correctly, pain.

It made sense. Why the Alterian knew them. Why the creature had been prepared for the mask to be orbed away. And why he had given them the chance to back out, to not know. Because knowing was so, so much worse than not, Piper agreed.

Phoebe made a distressed, angered noise in the back of her throat.

"Cole," She growled. The Alterian inclined his head, looking up at her with dispassionate slate eyes.

"I was called that once," He whispered, the wings about his head lightly flipping outwards absently.

"You son of a bitch," Phoebe shook. "You stupid son of a bitch."

He didn't even flinch, and it angered her even more. She wanted a reaction, she wanted to lash out and have him lash back. Because then things would be okay. Then he would be Cole and not this... this... This nothingness. It made it so hard to hate him. So hard to hate this shell that wasn't the man who she had loved and hated at separate times with everything she had.

His hands lightly reached outwards, and the spirit curled about his neck. The Alterian took a few steps toward her, and for a moment she thought that she could barely see a flash of emotion behind blue eyes before it was gone.

"I was called that once, too," he commented, almost thoughtful. His gaze shifted toward the house then to Piper that was staring at him.

"What are you doing here, Cole?" She hissed. He may have helped her once, but she wasn't going to trust him. His head inclined, and Piper was hit by the change in him. the feathers rustled again, and the oddness of seeing him with such an... angelic feature made her stomach roll.

"I'm here," he stated, slowly again. "To protect you. The Cole you knew?" He shook his head. "Inconsequential."

Okay... there we go... XD

Now, I ask that you review if you liked it. It helps me come back to the story, even after two years. The nice thing is... I'm not expecting any deaths. And again, I apologize for disappearing without any sort of warning... I wouldn't have done it given the choice, but I am back now.

Anyways... review. No flames, please.

Oh, and ask questions. I'm going to be setting up an "Answer section" at the beginning of each chapter for those of you who need them. And don't worry, Cole isn't going to be totally emotionless. :) You'll just have to wait and see.