Fic: Comes Out of Darkness, Morn (4/37)
Mar. 20th, 2012 09:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sara_wolfTitle: 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...
*****
In the four months since she and her sisters had become witches, they'd faced two ghosts, five demons, nearly a dozen warlocks, and even a couple of incredibly determined and resourceful mortals. But, none of that was as terrifying as what Prue was about to do.
She knocked briskly on the front door of the huge mansion that Paige and Nick lived in, biting back the automatic scowl that threatened to emerge when Nick answered the door.
"What do you want?" he snapped, and Prue had to resist the urge to use her power to throw him through the nearest wall. As satisfying as it would have been in the short term, it would have raised far too many questions that she wasn't really sure how to answer.
"I'm here to see Paige," Prue told him.
"Not here," Nick said, with a shrug, a smirk tugging at his lips that Prue was just dying to slap off his face.
'You arrogant son of a bitch,' she thought, furiously, fighting to keep her expression neutral. "Her car's in the driveway. Where is she?"
Before Nick could lie to her, again, Paige stepped out from behind her husband, a resigned expression on her face as she took in the pair squaring off over the doorframe.
"Nick, just go back inside," she said, with a quiet sigh, and Nick glared viciously at Prue before he stormed off, his footsteps echoing through the house.
"Sorry about that," Paige said, as she gently closed the front door behind her and sat down on the front steps. "I'd invite you inside," she added, as Prue joined her on the steps, "but I don't think that's a good idea, right now."
Prue glanced over at her friend, gasping in shock as she saw the black eye that Paige was sporting. She reached out and gently brushed her fingers against the dark bruise, rage rising inside her at the way Paige tried not to flinch away from her touch.
"I'm going to kill that son of a bitch," she growled, and Paige sighed, wrapping her fingers around Prue's wrist and pulling her hand down.
"I'm fine," she said, earning a sharp look from Prue in the process.
"You are not fine," Prue snapped, angrily. "He hit you, Paige. That is not fine."
"I don't know that he hit me," Paige replied, quietly. "I don't remember what happened. All I know is that I woke up with a black eye, this morning, and Nick told me that I ran into the doorway last night before bed."
"He helped you into the doorway, more like it," Prue shot back. "Paige-"
"You're not going to have to worry about it for much longer," Paige interrupted her, clearly not willing to continue with their current topic of conversation. "Nick and I are getting a divorce."
"You are?" Prue asked, feeling hope spring up in her chest at the thought of her friend getting away from the monster she'd married.
"All that's left is the paperwork," Paige told her. "Once we sign that, I'm no longer a married woman. And Nick, if he's hitting me, is not going to touch me, again."
"If he's hitting you?" Prue demanded, incredulously, but Paige cut her off before she could take that thought any further.
"Why are you here, Prue?" she asked. "I doubt you came over just to talk. We're both too busy for that, these days."
Prue winced at the unintentional reminder of how magic had cut into her time with her friends, how her relationships outside her family had suffered in the fight against evil. But, she was here, today, because she was hoping that magic would be able to help her get a little bit of that, back.
"I need a lock of Pax's hair," she said, gently. "Yours, too."
"Why?" came the immediate, incredulous question that Prue had so been hoping that Paige wouldn't ask.
For a moment she toyed with telling Paige the truth about why she needed the hair. But, she didn't want to get her hopes up. She didn't even know if Paige would believe her about magic.
So, she looked her best friend in the face and lied to her.
"That scrapbook I've been working on," she said. "I'm almost finished; I just need a few more things to add to it."
"Oh," Paige said, softly, pain flashing ever so quickly across her face. "Um, yeah, sure. I think I've got a lock of Pax's hair in her baby book."
"I don't need a lot," Prue said, reassuringly. "Just a little bit."
"Let me go grab the book," Paige replied, standing and going into the house. She reappeared a couple of minutes later, a pastel pink scrapbook cradled in her arms. "Here we go. One lock of hair."
Flipping open the book, Paige stopped on the second page and opened a small paper envelope that was glued near the top. She took out a lock of dark hair, separating it in half and handing one half to Prue. Prue wrapped the hair carefully in a plastic bag that she'd stored in her pocket.
"And I need some of yours, too," she added, hoping that Paige wasn't going to demand an explanation.
Luckily for her, Paige just wrapped a few strands of her long hair around her fingers and tugged, handing Prue her hair.
"I should probably get going," Prue said, as she tucked Paige's hair into another baggie. "I'll get you the scrapbook when I'm finished with it, okay?" 'And something much greater,' she vowed, silently.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"I need your help with a spell."
Piper looked up from the restaurant's ledgers she had spread across the dining room table, and Phoebe poked her head in from the living room.
"Demon hunt?" she asked, curiously, but Prue shook her head.
"Not a demon hunt," she said. "This is something – else."
"Something else?" Phoebe echoed, with a slow grin spreading across her face. "Do my ears deceive me, or is Prue Halliwell proposing to use magic for personal gain?"
"It's not personal gain," Prue protested, automatically. "I'm – we're – doing this for someone else."
"I don't know that it works like that," Piper insisted, but Prue ignored her.
"I wrote a spell," she went on. "But, I think we need the Power of Three to cast it."
"What kind of spell is this, exactly?" Piper demanded, as she and Phoebe followed Prue up the stairs to the attic.
"My friend Paige's daughter was kidnapped almost six months ago," Prue told them, getting horrified gasps from her sisters. "I want to use the Power of Three to summon her back from wherever she was taken."
"Prue-" Piper started, after a moment, but Prue brusquely cut her off.
"Don't tell me not to do this," she pleaded, quietly. "I have to do this; I have to try."
"Are we even allowed to write our own spells?" Phoebe spoke up, changing the subject to something slightly less volatile. "I mean, we haven't even been witches for six months."
"We've got to start somewhere, right?" Prue replied. "Mom, Grams, all of the women before us would have added to the Book of Shadows. Melinda Warren even began the Book. We're just continuing a long and proud tradition."
"Where's the spell?" Piper asked, after a moment, and Prue passed her and Phoebe small scraps of paper.
"I cobbled together a ritual," Prue explained, as she gestured to a low table that she'd set up in the middle of the attic. "There's a spell to call a lost witch, and I borrowed some elements from that, and from the spell to summon a blood ancestor. I changed some things to account for the fact that we're calling for someone else's relative."
"Do you have something from the little girl?" Phoebe asked, as they seated themselves around the table.
"Hair," Prue answered, promptly, pulling the baggies out of her pocket. "A lock from Pax, the little girl, and one from her mother. We ready?"
"What are you going to do if this works?" Piper asked.
"I don't know what you mean," Prue said, confused. "If this works, we reunite a kidnapped child with her mother."
"Yeah," Piper replied, "and what are you going to tell her mother when she wants to know how you found her kid? Do you really expect her to believe that you found her wandering around on the street, or whatever you can come up with?"
"I'm not going to come up with anything," Prue said, as she avoided her sisters' gazes. "If this works, I'm going to tell Paige everything. Magic, witches, the whole nine yards."
"Are you sure that's a smart move?" Piper asked, delicately.
"Paige is my best friend," Prue told them, firmly. "I trust her with this. I promise you, she won't tell a soul."
"If you're sure," Piper said, a doubtful tone in her voice, but she still reached out and took Prue's free hand.
"I'm sure," Prue said, vehemently.
"One more thing," Phoebe said, quietly, before they could begin the ritual. "What if it doesn't work?"
"It will," Prue said, stubbornly, not willing to dwell on any other possibility. "It has to."
They linked hands, chanting the spell that Prue had written.
"Bring together mother and child,
Separated across the miles.
Every rock and stone, look under,
Let love not be torn asunder."
Then, Prue freed a hand to sprinkle Paige's and Pax's hair into the chalice in the center of the table. Phoebe lit a match and let it fall into the herbs and hair mixed in the chalice, and they waited with bated breath for the flame to go out. When the flame died down, Prue's shoulders visibly slumped as she looked around at the empty attic.
"I'm sorry," Piper said, sympathetically, and Prue sighed.
"I guess it was a long shot," she said, sadly. "I was just really hoping that it would work, you know?"
"What are you going to do, now?" Phoebe asked, but Prue couldn't answer. She had no idea what to say.
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...
*****
In the four months since she and her sisters had become witches, they'd faced two ghosts, five demons, nearly a dozen warlocks, and even a couple of incredibly determined and resourceful mortals. But, none of that was as terrifying as what Prue was about to do.
She knocked briskly on the front door of the huge mansion that Paige and Nick lived in, biting back the automatic scowl that threatened to emerge when Nick answered the door.
"What do you want?" he snapped, and Prue had to resist the urge to use her power to throw him through the nearest wall. As satisfying as it would have been in the short term, it would have raised far too many questions that she wasn't really sure how to answer.
"I'm here to see Paige," Prue told him.
"Not here," Nick said, with a shrug, a smirk tugging at his lips that Prue was just dying to slap off his face.
'You arrogant son of a bitch,' she thought, furiously, fighting to keep her expression neutral. "Her car's in the driveway. Where is she?"
Before Nick could lie to her, again, Paige stepped out from behind her husband, a resigned expression on her face as she took in the pair squaring off over the doorframe.
"Nick, just go back inside," she said, with a quiet sigh, and Nick glared viciously at Prue before he stormed off, his footsteps echoing through the house.
"Sorry about that," Paige said, as she gently closed the front door behind her and sat down on the front steps. "I'd invite you inside," she added, as Prue joined her on the steps, "but I don't think that's a good idea, right now."
Prue glanced over at her friend, gasping in shock as she saw the black eye that Paige was sporting. She reached out and gently brushed her fingers against the dark bruise, rage rising inside her at the way Paige tried not to flinch away from her touch.
"I'm going to kill that son of a bitch," she growled, and Paige sighed, wrapping her fingers around Prue's wrist and pulling her hand down.
"I'm fine," she said, earning a sharp look from Prue in the process.
"You are not fine," Prue snapped, angrily. "He hit you, Paige. That is not fine."
"I don't know that he hit me," Paige replied, quietly. "I don't remember what happened. All I know is that I woke up with a black eye, this morning, and Nick told me that I ran into the doorway last night before bed."
"He helped you into the doorway, more like it," Prue shot back. "Paige-"
"You're not going to have to worry about it for much longer," Paige interrupted her, clearly not willing to continue with their current topic of conversation. "Nick and I are getting a divorce."
"You are?" Prue asked, feeling hope spring up in her chest at the thought of her friend getting away from the monster she'd married.
"All that's left is the paperwork," Paige told her. "Once we sign that, I'm no longer a married woman. And Nick, if he's hitting me, is not going to touch me, again."
"If he's hitting you?" Prue demanded, incredulously, but Paige cut her off before she could take that thought any further.
"Why are you here, Prue?" she asked. "I doubt you came over just to talk. We're both too busy for that, these days."
Prue winced at the unintentional reminder of how magic had cut into her time with her friends, how her relationships outside her family had suffered in the fight against evil. But, she was here, today, because she was hoping that magic would be able to help her get a little bit of that, back.
"I need a lock of Pax's hair," she said, gently. "Yours, too."
"Why?" came the immediate, incredulous question that Prue had so been hoping that Paige wouldn't ask.
For a moment she toyed with telling Paige the truth about why she needed the hair. But, she didn't want to get her hopes up. She didn't even know if Paige would believe her about magic.
So, she looked her best friend in the face and lied to her.
"That scrapbook I've been working on," she said. "I'm almost finished; I just need a few more things to add to it."
"Oh," Paige said, softly, pain flashing ever so quickly across her face. "Um, yeah, sure. I think I've got a lock of Pax's hair in her baby book."
"I don't need a lot," Prue said, reassuringly. "Just a little bit."
"Let me go grab the book," Paige replied, standing and going into the house. She reappeared a couple of minutes later, a pastel pink scrapbook cradled in her arms. "Here we go. One lock of hair."
Flipping open the book, Paige stopped on the second page and opened a small paper envelope that was glued near the top. She took out a lock of dark hair, separating it in half and handing one half to Prue. Prue wrapped the hair carefully in a plastic bag that she'd stored in her pocket.
"And I need some of yours, too," she added, hoping that Paige wasn't going to demand an explanation.
Luckily for her, Paige just wrapped a few strands of her long hair around her fingers and tugged, handing Prue her hair.
"I should probably get going," Prue said, as she tucked Paige's hair into another baggie. "I'll get you the scrapbook when I'm finished with it, okay?" 'And something much greater,' she vowed, silently.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"I need your help with a spell."
Piper looked up from the restaurant's ledgers she had spread across the dining room table, and Phoebe poked her head in from the living room.
"Demon hunt?" she asked, curiously, but Prue shook her head.
"Not a demon hunt," she said. "This is something – else."
"Something else?" Phoebe echoed, with a slow grin spreading across her face. "Do my ears deceive me, or is Prue Halliwell proposing to use magic for personal gain?"
"It's not personal gain," Prue protested, automatically. "I'm – we're – doing this for someone else."
"I don't know that it works like that," Piper insisted, but Prue ignored her.
"I wrote a spell," she went on. "But, I think we need the Power of Three to cast it."
"What kind of spell is this, exactly?" Piper demanded, as she and Phoebe followed Prue up the stairs to the attic.
"My friend Paige's daughter was kidnapped almost six months ago," Prue told them, getting horrified gasps from her sisters. "I want to use the Power of Three to summon her back from wherever she was taken."
"Prue-" Piper started, after a moment, but Prue brusquely cut her off.
"Don't tell me not to do this," she pleaded, quietly. "I have to do this; I have to try."
"Are we even allowed to write our own spells?" Phoebe spoke up, changing the subject to something slightly less volatile. "I mean, we haven't even been witches for six months."
"We've got to start somewhere, right?" Prue replied. "Mom, Grams, all of the women before us would have added to the Book of Shadows. Melinda Warren even began the Book. We're just continuing a long and proud tradition."
"Where's the spell?" Piper asked, after a moment, and Prue passed her and Phoebe small scraps of paper.
"I cobbled together a ritual," Prue explained, as she gestured to a low table that she'd set up in the middle of the attic. "There's a spell to call a lost witch, and I borrowed some elements from that, and from the spell to summon a blood ancestor. I changed some things to account for the fact that we're calling for someone else's relative."
"Do you have something from the little girl?" Phoebe asked, as they seated themselves around the table.
"Hair," Prue answered, promptly, pulling the baggies out of her pocket. "A lock from Pax, the little girl, and one from her mother. We ready?"
"What are you going to do if this works?" Piper asked.
"I don't know what you mean," Prue said, confused. "If this works, we reunite a kidnapped child with her mother."
"Yeah," Piper replied, "and what are you going to tell her mother when she wants to know how you found her kid? Do you really expect her to believe that you found her wandering around on the street, or whatever you can come up with?"
"I'm not going to come up with anything," Prue said, as she avoided her sisters' gazes. "If this works, I'm going to tell Paige everything. Magic, witches, the whole nine yards."
"Are you sure that's a smart move?" Piper asked, delicately.
"Paige is my best friend," Prue told them, firmly. "I trust her with this. I promise you, she won't tell a soul."
"If you're sure," Piper said, a doubtful tone in her voice, but she still reached out and took Prue's free hand.
"I'm sure," Prue said, vehemently.
"One more thing," Phoebe said, quietly, before they could begin the ritual. "What if it doesn't work?"
"It will," Prue said, stubbornly, not willing to dwell on any other possibility. "It has to."
They linked hands, chanting the spell that Prue had written.
"Bring together mother and child,
Separated across the miles.
Every rock and stone, look under,
Let love not be torn asunder."
Then, Prue freed a hand to sprinkle Paige's and Pax's hair into the chalice in the center of the table. Phoebe lit a match and let it fall into the herbs and hair mixed in the chalice, and they waited with bated breath for the flame to go out. When the flame died down, Prue's shoulders visibly slumped as she looked around at the empty attic.
"I'm sorry," Piper said, sympathetically, and Prue sighed.
"I guess it was a long shot," she said, sadly. "I was just really hoping that it would work, you know?"
"What are you going to do, now?" Phoebe asked, but Prue couldn't answer. She had no idea what to say.
Continued here
