What Kind of Mother (One shot)-PG

[Nite Owl]

Author: DumbBrunette

This story is completely in Piper’s point of view. Bold represents the actual memory itself, not just Piper telling about it. It takes place anytime after Someone to Witch Over Me. It doesn’t really matter when exactly, but Phoebe has her powers. Also, I’m not placing this under AU, because until Kern gives an actual ending to the storyline he started, this can technically happen.




What kind of mother am I? My son was dead. Well, sort of. The smart ass, tall, slightly neurotic version I had come to know and love was dead. The version that belonged to this time line, a sweet, quiet infant was still here, right in my arms. The freckle I know he will have has yet to appear on his little nose, and his adorable emerald eyes are wide open, shining with an innocence that had been stripped away by age, and other things he never cared to tell, of the other one.

As it would be with this one. For far worse reasons.



I’ll never forget the day Phoebe came out of her room, shaking. She had had a premonition when she woke up. Wyatt, always up far before anyone else was, had grown restless and orbed out of his crib. He woke me up and then went to her. He had simply gone to shake her, but his touch had inadvertently sent her hurtling into a premonition. Glimpses of a teen with long blonde hair and cold blue eyes kicking a crouched shape in the corner. A man hidden in the shadows standing obediently next to the same teen’s older version.

And a scarred man with long brown hair and green eyes that were wide open with fear. We all immediately guessed Chris. But at the same time, we all tried to blow it off. Chris had saved the future, hadn’t he?

But we couldn’t. We couldn’t stop thinking about it. After all, how would we know if the future was saved? And poor Phoebe, the premonition was coming back to her every night in dream form.

We decided to give it a shot. A quick spell and we’d go in like ghosts. Unable to be seen, heard, touched, or touch something ourselves. We’d make sure everything was okay and would come back, happy and relieved. Or so we thought.



Everything seemed normal. We found ourselves in a strange, yet familiar, attic. The Book was missing, in it’s place something I swore was a hologram of it.

“Is that what I think it is?” Phoebe asked, awed. I nodded as Paige looked closer.

“Not that I don’t think this is cool and all,” Paige said, moving her hand through it. “But something’s wrong here.”<br>
I just kept on nodding. What was there to say?




Phoebe says that it was almost like a warning. That there was something wrong and we should have just turned right on back. I wish we did, now that I know. But we probably would’ve just gone again though. Even though the proof of what we found there was right in front of us the whole time. We were just too unwilling, or maybe too stupid, to see it.

Paige saw it first.



Paige headed in front of us, and we followed, our minds on the hologram. But we soon got distracted when three machines passed through us. They seemed to be scanning something.

“What the heck were those?” I asked, looking back at them. They were brown and metallic, with a small lens that shot out the light.

“Some sort of security system?” Phoebe guessed. “I think the better question is, what are they doing here.

“Oh my God...” we heard Paige exclaim. Phoebe and I gave each other worried glances and we rushed down, only to stop when we saw why Paige was in utter shock.

Around the hallway, there were display cases, showcasing costumes we recognized as being forced to wear, thanks to countless magical situations we’ve had over the years. The red cape, the white gowns from when we were goddesses, everything. Plaques labeled each one, telling of the year, who wore it, any mindless fact that’d you’d expect from...

“A museum,” Paige said softly, uncertain and stunned, walking over to a large, lavish plaque on the wall. “It’s a museum.”<br>
Phoebe and I walked over to her and looked at the plaque.


HALLIWELL MUSEUM-FOUNDED IN 2019 BY WYATT MATTHEW HALLIWELL. DEDICATED TO HIS BROTHER.
In memory of the power they came from, the Power of Three.




We spent quite some time looking at that plaque, just trying to deal with it. Strangely enough, it wasn’t so much that we were dead. I already knew I would be. Sure, it must’ve been hard for my sisters. It must still be hard. But at the time, I don’t think it had really hit them. Or at least, they hid it well if it had. Anyway, it wasn’t that bothered me. It wasn’t even the fact that the house that had been in our family for years, our home, had been turned into a museum only a year after I died-after I will die. What really shocked me, what made me start to get close to the truth, was the final line. ‘In memory of the power they came from, the Power of Three.’<br>
We were simply the power that Wyatt and Chris came from. No names, no “our mother and aunts”. Just the power. The Power of Three. My sisters didn’t know how much that meant, how much it symbolized. Chris had never really told them. The only reason he told me was that he was desperate to get back in my good graces.



“What are you doing here?” I asked angrily, as I held Wyatt in one arm and tried to get something from the top cupboard. Chris gingerly moved my arm away and grabbed the box.

“Look, I know you’re mad at me. But there’s got to be something I can do.” His eyes had that pleading, puppy dog look. The look I had seen girls swoon at when he was at P3.

“Yeah, you can go away!” I answered bitterly, snatching the box from his hands. He sighed and turned around, and I heard him breathe in slowly. He was hurt, but I didn’t really care. He had lied to me. He dared to suggest that my sweet little boy would grow to be a menace to society. A cold hearted tyrant. Now that was all I could think about. There was nothing he could do that could make up for the fact that every time I held Wyatt, my little boy, I couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d grow to be a murderer. But there was one thing he could at least tell me.

“Why?”<br>
Chris turned around, his green eyes showing his confusion. “Why what?”<br>
“Why did he turn?”<br>
“Piper-”<br>
“I know you don’t know what turned him,” I finished for him. “But all evil guys always have a reason, right? They give this whole speech, about why they’re better. What was his?”<br>
He seemed to think about that for a while. I guess he wasn’t sure whether to tell me. I didn’t even really expect him too. After all the secrets he keeps, what’s going to make him decide to say anything now? But he surprised me. He sighed and said wistfully, “Power.”<br>
I told myself I was just over thinking it. I mean, how paranoid is that? Seeing one line and then thinking the complete worst. There were other possibilities. There had to be. So I didn’t say a word about it.



Turning away from the plaque and shaking away the thoughts in my head, I tried to get my sisters back on track. “Guys, they’re not here. We’re going to have to say the spell. Bring us to them.”<br>
Reluctantly, they tore their eyes away from the sight, looking a little shaken up, but otherwise fine. Phoebe said, “Yeah...you’re right.”, as Paige nodded. They began to recite the spell they had made up before leaving, just in case.

“To learn the truth, and see their fate,
And cause our worries to abate.
Whether they be near or far,
Take us to where the twice-blessed are.”<br>


What we saw, what we found...I don’t even like thinking about it. But I have to. For the sake of this little boy in my arms, and the one downstairs with his father, I have to. I have to remember that look on his face, the conversation that went on. I can’t forget. None of us can. Just in case we can stop it somehow. It seems like we can’t. But I’d be an even worse mother than I probably am if I didn’t even try, despite the possible consequences that for a while had made me not want to bother.. Especially since it’s not only my children who suffer from what will happen.

Chris starts to fuss, and I rock him gently. I don’t smile as I usually do, as the memories start to come back.


It was dark. Well, not dark in the physical sense. There were lights. Not many, but it was enough to see by. It was more a feeling. The minute we appeared, we all shivered from the aura. Not to mention it was cold, although the two men standing against the black wall and the crying woman before them didn’t seem to notice. In fact, the taller man was wearing a T-shirt. I couldn’t see them too well, but I knew the guys had to be Wyatt and Chris. That is, if the spell worked. I went closer, my sisters following.

The taller one moved forward, and the woman crouched away. At first, I was too distracted by the smirk on his face when she did that to really look at him. But I got over it and my mouth dropped open in shock.

He had long, dirty blonde hair, and cold, clear blue eyes that had a menacing glint to it. Those hadn’t changed much, as much as I didn’t want to admit it. They still had that ability to bore into you, and make you feel like your innermost thoughts and darkest secrets were out in the open for all to see. His face had grown hard, but I could still make out the face of the child I had fed breakfast this morning. And it scared me to no end.

I was faintly aware of Paige beside me, her hand to her mouth. Phoebe soon saw it too, and whispered softly, “Oh my God...Wyatt.”<br>
He reached his arm out, causing us all to jump back at the sudden movement, and grabbed the woman by the neck. She was tan with long brown hair, and warm brown eyes to match.‘Bianca,’ I suddenly remembered.

And it was. I recognized her voice when she finally spoke, although, from what we had seen of her, it was nothing I’d expect her to say.

[Nite Owl]

“Please, Wyatt, don’t” she begged, crying. “I’m sorry. They-they made me do it. You know I wouldn’t betray you.”<br>
“Don’t give me that “they made me” @#%$, Bianca,” Wyatt said, the utter coldness in his tone bringing tears to my eyes. “You’re a top assassin, the most powerful Phoenix of your time. No one makes you do anything.” He threw her casually to the side, and a soft “Don’t...” came from the corner of the room. Bianca glanced up to the corner, where the other man stood, hidden in the shadows. Her eyes gave him a pleading look, as she whispered something I couldn’t catch. Suddenly, her whole demeanor changed, and she began to look more like the Bianca we had seen.

“You’re right,” she said, as she lifted herself off the ground. “ No one can tell me what to do. And that includes you.” An athame appeared in her hand out of nowhere and she charged.

Wyatt, however, laughed, threw her into a far wall, and said, “Come on, Bianca. You know that little trick doesn’t work on me. And you know you can’t defeat me. So unless you have a death wish, why don’t you stop this and-”<br>
“-And stop trying?” she interrupted. “Give up and let you destroy everything?”<br>
“Chris doesn’t seem to mind it,” he said, smirking, as I stepped back, not wanting to believe it. Chris did everything to save his brother, he lost everything, even his own life.
How different could this Chris be that he stopped trying?

Bianca whipped her head around and gave Wyatt a look of utter hate. “You bastard. What did you do to him?”<br>
“I told him the truth. About everything. He wouldn’t listen at first, but eventually I convinced him to.”<br>
“Convinced?!” she ranted incredulously. “More like tortured till he gave in!”<br>
I turned around, unable to see the scene anymore. I stared at the man in the shadows, now sure who he was. Reluctantly, I walked over to him, wanting to see, and not wanting to see at the same time. I didn’t want to see what he had become, but my motherly instinct compelled me to go further. Finally, I was in front of him, and I could suddenly see him all to clearly.

A scar ran across his cheek, but in general his face was the same. His hair was long and shaggy, and his eyes held no trace of that vibrance that the other’s had held. They weren’t quite vacant, but that might be from the tears as he watched his fiancé in another life, and for all I know this one too, clash with his brother.

He wasn’t as skinny, surprisingly enough. He wasn’t going to be mistaken for a body builder anytime soon, but he did seem physically stronger.

The Chris we knew always seemed to be burdened down with the weight of the world. A martyr, or as Paige had joked, a follower in my footsteps. You could see it the very way he stood. It was an aura about him. If anything that was the only shocking difference between him and the Chris who stood before me. There was none of that here. He stood as a slave would, head slightly bowed and shoulders crouched. The only word that came to mind was broken.

Crying, I reached my hand out to stroke his hair, but it passed through him. I almost forgot that he couldn’t feel me. But something happened that surprised me. He turned his head and looked right at me, eyes squinting. My hand snapped back. He couldn’t have felt me, could he?

Confused, he reached his arm out, but only felt air. He turned away, and I breathed out in relief, mixed with a little sadness.


I should’ve known he would’ve felt me there. If there was something the Chris we had known had changed for the better, it was that little Chris was a little more even with Wyatt power-wise, having an Elder dad this time around. One new power was empathy, of some degree. It wasn’t exactly like Phoebe’s. He could sense when someone he knew was in the room, and was remarkably in tune with people’s emotions. So far we think it’s Aura-reading, but as he can’t talk, we can’t call it that for sure.

That’s why I don’t bother plastering on a smile. He knows something’s wrong. Pretending it isn’t going to help. If anything, it’ll confuse him.

Slowly, and thankfully, he drifts off. I lay him down and just stare at the pure peacefulness on his face. I wish he could always be like this. Calm, and peaceful. It scares me to death that’ll he’ll be forced to grow into the one we saw. And it scares me more is that the person who’ll force him to is the same one that sleeps in the crib next to him.

We didn’t stay long after that close call.



My sisters, had come behind me when I wasn’t looking. They were crying, just as I was.


“I want to go,” I told them. “Now.”<br>
“Piper,” Paige said gently. “I know this is hard. It’s hard for us too. But if we go, we’ll never find out how to stop this”<br>
“Chris gave his life to stop this!” I exclaimed, finally turning to face them. “And he’s worse off than he was then!”

“Honey,” Phoebe started to say, but I cut her off.

“What if we make it worse?” I added, voicing my rising fears. “What if we end up completely destroying everything?” I hesitated before finally saying the one thing on my mind. “What if it’s meant to be?”<br>


My sisters still refuse to consider that possibility. I love them dearly, but they’re a bit naive. They think as long as they stop all demons from laying their hand on him, he’ll turn out fine. I used to believe that was the only thing I had to do protect him too. But after seeing him, watching him fight Bianca, seeing what he had done to Chris...it’s hard to believe a single demon did all that damage. Added to that power thing Chris mentioned...as much as I don’t want to consider the fact, I’m not stupid. There is a saying that goes, “there are none so blind as those who won’t see.” There is no way I can allow myself to be one of those. As much as I don’t want to admit, there is a possibility that Wyatt turned on his own means. That he wanted power and decided that turning was the best way to do it.

There are other possibilities too. Possibilities that are easier for me to think about. Excalibar...We had always assumed it was for Wyatt. But it could be meant for Chris. It could be that we gave it to Wyatt and he had been corrupted, just like I was.

All I know is I have to keep my eyes open. I’ve been given a gift, although at the time it felt like a curse. I have seen the future. I can look for the warning signs now. I can try my best to save my children.

Or be forced to choose one over the other. There have been nightmares. Where it comes down to destroying Wyatt, and save Chris and the world. Or try to save Wyatt from himself. When I do the second one, it tends to end badly. I don’t let myself think of the nightmares when I’m with Wyatt though. If I treat him differently, he’ll notice. And it just may be the reason he’ll do what he’ll do.

I hear someone call my name from the doorway. I turn away Reluctantly and see Leo standing in the doorway. We haven’t told him about our little trip, and we don’t plan to either. He’s only just really got over Chris’ death. Telling him the truth would only make it worse. He gives me a smile, and I return one, playing the part of the content mother that doesn’t know what’s in store for them. That just knows that today is perfect and that’s all that matters.

What I’d give to really be that mother.

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Just a one-shot. I'm bored, so I thought I might as well see what you guys think of it.

See ya