Disclaimer: Charmed, the Charmed Ones, Cole, Leo, and any other character of Charmed belong to the Spelling Corporation and other possible copyright holders. I, as the author, am in no way associated to Charmed. This story, however, and the characters that I have created, are my property and solely belong to me. Please do not use or replicatethis story without my permission beforehand.
Notes: This story takes place approximately ten months after the Season Seven episode Charmageddon, so therefore, events that follow after said episode are not taken into account. As you read the story, you may find some drastic differences between the characters as we know them in Charmageddon, but keep in mind that these changes took place during the ten-month time gap and will be explained later on in the story.
If you enjoyed this story, I invite you to read my other works, including the still-in-progress story Love's Intervention. After reading my stories, I hope you can take a few seconds to give me a review, no matter how old my stories are. All reviews are highly appreciated, and if you would like to contact me, feel free to do so at my email address which can be located in my profile.
Mrs. Phoebe Halliwell stood in the corner of the bathroom while she watched her brother-in-law, Leo, fix the bathtub. She was in her large Snoopy T-shirt and light blue pajama pants, and her hair was slightly mussed, even though she had rolled out of bed two hours ago.
Not the bed that she shared with her husband, that is, in their house nearly halfway across town. Rather, she had gotten up from her old bed in her old room in the Halliwell Manor, where she had stayed for the last two days and nights. Phoebe had gotten into another huge fight with her spouse, and so ran to her sisters', something she was more opt to do more and more often.
"Any progress on the bathtub?" asked Phoebe quietly.
Leo turned around, wiped a tiny bit of sweat from his brow, and nodded. "Just give me a couple more minutes. Something seems to be stuck there, probably from before you took that bath last night."
Phoebe shook her head, her short hair that she was in the process of growing out again whipping slightly around her. "I was in the bathtub when it started to clog, so even if it's not my fault, I'm responsible."
Leo gave his good friend a worried look before turning back to the bathtub drain. "Have you talked to him yet?"
Phoebe looked away from her Whitelighter as if he was reproaching her, even though Leo wasn't even looking at her. "No."
"This isn't healthy. You don't need me to tell you that."
Phoebe wrapped her arms tightly around herself and leaned against the wall. "It's just a stupid fight. We'll be fine."
"What?" she snapped, her bleary eyes glaring at Leo's back. Just as suddenly, she slumped back. "I'm sorry," she said in a tiny voice.
At this, Leo turned fully around to face her. "Phoebe, I'm worried. We're all worried. He's not good for you, and I don't care how you deny it, but not only is he wronging you, you're wronging yourself. You shouldn't be doing this, Phoebe."
Phoebe looked away, though not before Leo caught the glittering moisture in her eyes. Suddenly, the cell phone on the bathroom counter started buzzing, and Phoebe snapped it up. She checked the Caller ID, and her whole face lit up. She flipped it open and cradled it to her ear. "Tyler?" she said, a twinge of hope in her voice.
Leo stared at Phoebe, who was completely engrossed in what was being said over the line. He shook his head to himself as Phoebe's features softened and the tears disappeared from her eyes. How could she be so blind as to what was going on? No matter what he or her sisters did, she was completely in denial to the injury that her second husband was inflicting upon her.
Leo was cut off from his thoughts from the sharp snap of Phoebe's phone closing. "That was Tyler," Phoebe announced triumphantly. "He said that he missed me and that he was sorry. I'm going back home," and without even so much as a goodbye, she ran to her room to clean herself up.
Leo shook his head again and turned his attention back to the bathtub. Phoebe—she has been hurt so much and so frequently, and Tyler was sure to hurt her again. And as much as Leo wanted to lift his hands and heal her, these were wounds that no Whitelighter were able to mend.
He flicked on his flashlight and peered inside the drain. There it was. He could see the foreign object, though from this vantage point he still couldn't exactly make it out. Using his pliers as tongs, he slowly reached in and plucked the object out.
And stared as he recognized the ring, not in the least tarnished from its stay in the drain for four years.