Disclaimer: I do not own Charmed, it is own my Spelling Productions and other people.
A/N: I once I asked my dad about his time in the Army and he told me fascinating stories of how the Army made a man out of him. This is the background for why I wrote the story. I hope you love it and if you do, please leave me a review.
Very small warning here, the flash back is very poignant and vivid, after all this is war, it's never pretty.
Leo stood atop the Golden Gate Bridge and looked out over the ocean that was lit by city lights and moonlight. He glanced down at the cars below. He had just had a major blow out with his son Chris.
If only he could rewind time to take, back the words of anger. If only he could make Chris understand. If only he could make Chris see how important he was to him.
Like a bolt of lightning, it hit him, he knew it was a long shot, but he had to try. Leo orbs out.
Chris sits on his bed in the back room of P3. He wished he hadn't said 'I hate you!' to Leo. The truth was he loved him, that's why I hurt so much that he wasn't there for him growing up. Nevertheless, tonight, he had ruined any chance of a relationship with Leo.
Just in front of him, he sees the flash of blue orbs, "Leo?"
"Hey Chris, sorry for barging in, but we need to talk."
"If it is about tonight, I'm sorry about what I said."
"It is about tonight, but so much more."
"I need to tell you a story. I need to tell you about the person you were named for."
"No not him, don't tell your mom though."
"I won't, sit down and tell me," said Chris as he slid over in the bed, Leo sat down beside him. The slid back until the back were against the wall.
"It started a few days into the war, four days before I died…
"It all starts in World War II, his name was Lorenzo, a few days before I met him, his family was killed…
A boy runs down the narrow streets of Italy, dodging cracks in the pavement. He had a round loaf of bread under his arm and a string of rosary beads wrapped around the fingers of his left hand.
The boy was tall for 16, with rich curly black hair and blue eyes. He had been a superb soccer player prior to the war, but now sports were no longer, what inspired the child.
He lived for a life in the military, eager to fight the enemy that had turned his city into a war-zone. His city was barely more than rubble now. He spent most of his days now envisioning the day he would lead his own troops into battle.
He had spent the night sleeping under am old cot in a deserted hotel, waiting out the bombing attacks that greeted his city every night. His mother had sent him out the days before to search for bread, which arrived nightly, brought in by flatbed trucks, and sold under the darkness of night, in the alleys.
He had dropped his money into the hands of a man, taken the bread, and turned to leave.
"Don't go home, Lorenzo," whispered the man.
"My mom and sisters haven't eaten all day," said Lorenzo.
"Let them eat in the morning, but tonight find a safe place to wait out the night."
Lorenzo took the man's advice and took shelter. The first bombs fell in the piazza off the alley. The area lit up in flames.
Lorenzo waited until dawn before he braved the run back home. When he turned the final corner before his home and skidded to a stop. He stood across from where his house had been and stared at a crumbled mass of pink stucco, cement, and wood.
He dropped the bread and fell to his knees. He began to moan, moving back and forth in agony. He didn't need to search the rubble to find out what he already knew to be true: they were dead, his mother and two sisters were dead.
At that moment, all he wanted to do was die, but instead he got to his feet and went to the grueling process of burying his family.
Leo fell silent and Chris asked, "What happened next or was that it?"
"That was only the beginning."
"How does this tell me about how I got my name?"
"You'll see," said Leo with a smile.
All right, this is the end of chapter 1; if you liked it let me know. I will get chapter 2 written and up in a few days.