Summary: Cole Turner has survived for 5 years without Phoebe, raising their son by himself. But what happens when young Warren wants his Mommy?
Disclaimer: When I buy it, I'll let you know it's mine.
PrologueCole Turner sat slumped in an armchair beside the fire. He never seemed to be able to sleep lately. Every time he felt himself drifting off he would jerk awake again, some unknown sense of danger keeping him from resting. It was ridiculous, of course. His New York penthouse was well protected, from both demons and witches. No magic could get in without his knowing. And Cole was well able to take care of himself.
But it wasn't himself Cole was worried about. He had Warren to look out for too. Warren was Cole's son, 5 years old and full of life. By rights Warren shouldn't have been alive at all. He was the impossible child of Cole and a Charmed One. Cole had found Warren when he had been killed the second time. Vanquished in an alternate reality by his wife and her sisters, one of which was supposed to be dead.
But it was the best thing they ever did for him. If the Power of Three hadn't murdered him, he would never have found his son. Would never have clawed his way back into life, determined to make give Warren the life he deserved.
That didn't mean he was going to let the Halliwells know about his son. He wasn't going to find them, thanking them on bended knee for making his life worth living again. No, the only thanks the Charmed Ones would ever receive was Cole's son's name. Warren, in honour of their long dead ancestor. It was the closest to his mother Warren would ever get, if Cole had anything to say about it.
Phoebe Halliwell may once have been Cole's reason for living, but she wasn't any more. She had given up on Cole when she found out he was the Source. Worse, she had been blinded by the Seer's tricks, and had given up on their son. She had betrayed Warren, and for that Cole would never forgive her.
"Daddy?" a small boy – coincidentally the subject of Cole's thoughts at that moment – walked into the sitting room, rubbing his eyes sleepily. "What are you still doing up?" he asked. Cole chuckled.
"I think I'm supposed to be the one asking that question." Cole replied. He held out his arms and Warren walked into them, sitting up onto Cole's lap. "It's way past your bedtime, War. Why are you up?"
"I had a bad dream, Daddy." Warren replied, snuggling into his fathers chest, seeking comfort from the one person he trusted above all others.
"Oh, dear. What was your dream about?" Cole asked softly.
"Umm, there were these two ladies fighting over me, and I was standing to the side, watching them. And one lady was saying , umm "You can't have him!" and she was holding her tummy, and then the other lady said , uhh "He was never yours" or something, and she screamed, then she exploded. Do you think maybe someone threw a energy ball at her, Daddy?" he queried.
"I don't think so, War." Cole told him, sighing. "I think it was a bit different then that."
"Oh. And who were the ladies, Daddy? The first lady looked so sad."
"One of them was a very bad lady who was vanquished a long time ago." Cole replied.
"She must have done something horrible." Warren decided. Not asking what vanquished meant. Not wondering if the lady was dead. He knew.
'It's not fair.' He thought. 'Why should my son know the word vanquished at 5 years old? Why should he be so different to other kids?' Asking the same question many others had asked before him.
"Daddy?" Warren asked again, shaking his father.
"What? Sorry, buddy, I zoned out for a minute. What did you say?"
"The other lady." His son repeated. "Who was she?"
'Your mother.' Cole said silently.
"I think that's a question for another day, War. Time for bed now." He said aloud, standing and scooping up his son.
"Aww, Daddy! But I'm not tired!" the 5 year old protested, as 5 year olds are apt to do when faced with bedtime.
"No buts, Warren. You have school in the morning." Cole told his son, depositing him in his bed gently. He pulled back the covers and Warren scrambled under them.
"Oh, yeah! We have Show and Tell tomorrow, Daddy! And I'm going to show them my magic tricks!"
"I know." Cole laughed quietly. "You've only been practising for a month now. But Warren, what do you have to remember not to do in school?" His son rolled his eyes, a very odd movement indeed for a kindergartener.
"I'm not to do any real magic. That means no energy balls, no shimmering, and no spells." He huffed.
"That's my boy." Cole said, ruffling his son's hair and leaving the room.
"Bet if I had a mommy, she'd let me do magic." Warren grumbled to himself, as he settled into bed.
Warren was always wondering why he didn't have a mommy. Alice had one, and Julie, and Mark, their mommies dropped them off in the mornings and picked them up from school in the evenings. Some of the kids in his class didn't have daddies, like Warren did. Amy's daddy was in the army, and Liam's didn't live with him and his mommy. But none of them were missing a mom. Warren didn't even know his mommy's name, whenever he brought her up Daddy got really sad and changed the subject.
'Maybe I could do a spell to call her.' Warren deliberated.
"Let's see." He said aloud. Warren had inherited a skill for rhyming from his mother. Spells often entered his head at random, usually when he really needed them.
"So she can come and find me,
Let my voice be heard by Mommy."
He murmured under his breath.
(A/N: So it's a crappy spell. He's 5 and I wanted to get this up quickly.
"Mommy!" he called, softly so Cole wouldn't hear him. "Mom! Mommy!" Nothing happened, and Warren, hoping the spell had worked, lay down and dropped off to sleep.
Outside by the fire, a dozing Cole Turner muttered one word in his sleep.
"Phoebe…"
AnimeAlexis: It may not seem like a big deal to you, the readers, but tomorrow is the first anniversary of when I started writing here! So I decided to post the prologue of a new story to celebrate! And yes, I know I said tomorrow, but I'm going to be out of the country then, so I had to post it today. Tell me if you like it, and if you do I'll keep it going!