Bitter Destruction

Oh, reviewers! :D

Erika - Thank you, darling! :) I'm glad to see you're on board for this story! Hope to see you review again!

luvsyafiction - My dear, I absolutely think that I'm falling in love with you. :) Sorry if that's creepy but it's very possible! You're certainly my favorite reviewer (sorry to those who have reviewed, but I can't lie!) and not just from this site but from another too! :) Thank you so much!
Yes, Prue and Delilah are hotttttt! Haha, I have the same view! The little stuff, I think, is what makes the story. It's the good stuff! Your compliments make me blush like crazy! :D If you weren't a little shocked about what Delilah did, I would have to be concerned! I always thought I was a little predictable (unfortunately) but if I surprise you, then all is well. :) Again, my dear, you are amazing, and please stop back to let me know more. :)

Prince of Madness - Thank you, sir! I know, it's very "out-there" but hey, it's gotta get a little strange sometimes. ;)

Thanks again to all! Reminder that there is a point of view (POV) change in about the middle of the chapter. It's stated there, too, so don't freak. I think you all can handle it. :)

Enjoy!

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I sat on the edge of Prue's bed, waiting. I tried to remember what happened, and what Prue may have seen. Did she see the distance -- or lack of distance -- between Lyca and me? Did she see when Lyca placed her chubby fingers around my backside? Did she see the kiss? Did she realize that when I put out my hand, it was to caress Lyca's erection or erections, for that matter?

Sighing, I undid the buttons of my shirt, disgusted now. Disgusted not by my action, but by my ridiculously bulging abdomen. Lyca could tell that I was pregnant. I couldn't have the pleasure that I desperately needed because of this damn pregnancy. Prue wanted to wait. I didn't.

I had to feel the ripple of an orgasm. Now.

Would that be my reasoning behind kissing Lyca? Because I was horny? Prue wouldn't allow it for a second. I pictured her face in my head, cheeks red with rage and embarrassment. But when she saw me, her face was barely angry. She revealed so much sadness in her eyes. Betrayal. I shut my eyes, raking my hands through my hair before returning them to the shirt.

All I wanted was attention. Not because I was carrying a child. Because someone else wanted me as badly as I wanted them.

The buttons were free finally. I peeled off the shirt, dropping it lazily onto the ground. My breasts were so sore and heavy. I touched the mounds fondly with my fingertips, whimpering at the tension building inside them. My nipples were thicker, it seemed, and aching. Just a flick with my thumbs and I was nearly crying out in pain and satisfaction.

I made it a priority to keep my gaze away from my torso, so I wouldn't have to see the large distortion of my stomach. The sight of it was starting to make me sick. How it dangled over the waistband of my pants, practically begging people to touch and feel the skin, and not in a tender way, no. In a rough way, almost; a grope, one could say. And how it would bounce as the baby kicked, jiggling for hours. It was so putrid! Ugly! It made me ugly!

I yelped, whipping my hand away from my chest. My nipples were throbbing red, for my anger over my melon-like belly had taken me out of the present, and my fingers had done far too much to my chest. I moaned, more in pain than pleasure.

I needed to see Prue. I had to explain that whatever she did witness meant absolutely nothing, and that I loved her and only her. I rose from the bed, intent on declaring my devotion to the Charmed One. Before I could open the door and find her myself, I looked down, finally aware that I was about to strut down the hallway half-dressed. With my cheeks flushed, I used my power to call for her. Prue, could you come here, please?

As I waited for her entrance, I grabbed one of the blankets at the foot of Prue's bed and threw it across my shoulders, curtaining my breasts from sight but keeping my stomach exposed.

It didn't take long for Prue to walk in, shutting the door behind her quietly. Her eyes expressed anguish that I could barely see thanks to her matted eyelashes. I saw the trails of what-used-to-be tears colored on her flat cheeks. “What is it?” she asked, her voice hollow ad not very friendly at all.

“I, uh...” I began, finding it hard to form words. Prue looked terrible. It reminded me of the day I was raped by my father, before that happened, when Prue heard the reasoning behind my arrival at the Halliwell Manor.

Prue raked one of her hands through her dark mane and turned her face to the wall. “Delilah, if you don't have something important to say, then I'm going to leave.” She ended her statement with a sniffle, keeping her eyes off of me.

I shook my head. “No, Prue, wait!” I said. “I... didn't mean to.”

Her chest rose and fell heavily as she let out a sigh. Her hand slipped from her scalp and down to her face, covering her nose and mouth. Staring at her profile, I watched her close her eyes and exhaled shakily again.

“Prue, please don't be angry,” I said, staking a step closer to her. “It just... happened. She was there and brought back the memory. I couldn't control myself!” I honestly couldn't. It was like the memory had taken over and I was stuck in that moment, reliving the sexual desire and assault.

Prue remained frozen. I wasn't even sure if she was taking in what I said. “I love you, Prue,” I whispered, taking another step and another. I was right in front of her, breathing in her scent. I felt my insides tingle with anticipation. Still, she was frozen. I let the blanket fall from my body. “I love you... so much.” I placed my hand on her hand that lolled at her side. She didn't even flinch from the touch. “I... need... you...” I took her hand and let it hover over my thigh, hoping she'd finish the rest of the task.

She pulled her hand from mine in a swift yank. I gasped. “I can't believe you, Delilah,” she said, her voice muffled against her other hand but I heard it loud and clear. The hand fell and her next words were like a slap in the face, “And your lack of control.”

My eyes grew wide as my heart leapt into my throat. How could she say that to me?

“I saw what you did with that woman,” Prue said, her voice low. “That kiss.” She turned her face in my direction, and my heart fell back down as I saw the newly formed tears that nestled inside her eyelids. “And you weren't going to stop.”

My breathing had become so heated that it sounded like panting. “All I wanted was someone to touch me,” I confessed, though it was barely audible. I swallowed before continuing, “And I knew that you weren't going to do it. And Lyca would've been fine--”

“What a disgusting excuse!” Prue spat, clenching her jaw. “That's all you care about, isn't it?”

“It's all I know!” I shouted, my cheeks red. “That's how I feel! If it hurts, it's rape. If it feels good, it's sex. Now I can't get either one because of this goddamn baby that tears and rips and kicks and makes me hideous! No one wants to touch me anymore!”

Prue shook her head, shutting her eyes quickly to block out the tears. “I need someone, Prue,” I said, whimpering as my own hands cupped my aching breasts. She shook her head at me, turning away towards the door. “No, please!” I cried, a growl escaping my throat.

Prue pivoted on her heel, snapping her head back at me. I saw a flash of fear in her green eyes, and I followed her stare. A fire had bloomed in my shaking palm, bright and thriving. I looked at her again. “Please,” I repeated, raspy.

I saw the muscles in Prue's throat bounce. “Put it out,” she commanded through a whisper.

I tried to flex my fingers and smother the flame but it didn't. There was a force keeping me from shutting my hand. “I can't.”

“Yes, you can,” Prue said, a bit louder this time. “Control it.”

I forced my fingers to squeeze, applying so much pressure that I felt like I was pushing against the biggest boulder around. The fire started to give in, and my stomach started to tense. Something inside me informed me that the baby was what was preventing the small inferno from dying out. Letting out a strangled yelp, I closed my fingers around the flame, destroying it.

Lifting my head, I stared into Prue's eyes. She stared back, and I wanted to say that she was proud of me. I knew she was on some degree, but I also knew that she was so disappointed. “Do...” I started, but didn't want to finish. I didn't want to know the answer. “Do you hate me?”

We held the stare for a long time, looking deep into each other. Knowing that I hurt her that badly, I had the greatest urge to turn away from her, like the coward I really was. I finally gave in, flicking my eyes away from hers and onto the floor. The click of the doorknob forced me to look back at her. She'd turned herself away, too.

“Wait, Prue,” I begged, “please, don't leave me.”

“I'll, um, be downstairs for tonight,” she replied, as if she didn't even hear my plea. I started to plead to her again but she was already halfway out the door. “You know what's the most shocking thing?” she asked me, her eyes glossed over with wetness. She shook her head and looked directly in my eyes. “You didn't even say you were sorry.” The door shut softly behind her.

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry!” I screamed over and over again, slamming my fists into the door. My body felt like it was burning. Prue needed to know. She needed to hear how sorry I really was. “I'm so sorry! Come back!”

She didn't come back. She wasn't coming back.

I fell down to my knees, then to my side, sobbing into the floor, cradling my belly with my arms.

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Third Person POV

Prue kept her back against the wooden door to her bedroom as she listened to Delilah scream repeatedly how sorry she was. Long streams of tears made their way down her face, dripping down onto her shirt. After many long minutes of Delilah's cries and poundings on the door, Prue fell down to the floor, cradling her knees to her chest. Heavy sobs shook her slim form as she let out her agony. She wanted to hate Delilah so badly for doing this to her, but, for some reason, she just couldn't. She knew that Delilah was controlled by this baby inside of her, but the whole blame could not be placed on the child. Delilah -- solely Delilah -- wanted to kiss that demon. And that made Prue sick to her stomach.

Delilah was ill. And, Prue knew deep down, Delilah was weak. Delilah was not going to make it. The baby was going to kill her just like Delilah had killed her own mother, Lily. Prue knew this was going to happen; she could feel it like poison in her veins. But Prue could fix this... She had to fix this...

She had to make her better.

Taking a few long, deep breaths, Prue stood up, wiping her eyes with her fingers. She walked downstairs and into the kitchen to find her sisters standing near the counter. “I need you guys to come with me,” Prue said, her voice groggy, she noticed.

“Sure,” Phoebe said right away, walking away from Piper and toward Prue.

“What's up, Prue?” Piper asked, wiping her hands off cautiously with a dishtowel.

“Come with me,” Prue told them, leading them up to the attic. “The boys are gone?” she whispered as they went up the last flight of steps before getting to the attic door.

“Leo's up there, still,” Piper answered.

“And Cole went to bed already,” said Phoebe, walking into the attic last. “Why?”

Prue walked over to the Book of Shadows perched on its stand and grabbed it, carrying it over to a table on the other side of the room near the door. “Shut the door, Pheebs, please,” Prue said, setting the book down and flipping the pages quickly with her telekinesis power.

The two younger witches glanced at each other with confused expressions. What was going on?

Prue apparently found the page because she briskly walked between the other two Halliwells like she had another job to complete. “Prue, are you going to let us in on what is going on here, please?” Piper asked, annoyed by the shortage of information that Prue gave.

The eldest sister walked back over to the sisters, holding a vial in one of her hands. The fluid inside the container was a milky white and almost sparkled inside the glass. “You guys need to help me bless this,” Prue said softly, displaying the vial.

Phoebe's eyebrows furrowed together. “What is it?”

“It will help Delilah,” Prue responded calmly though she could feel tension inside her ribcage.

“Are you sure you want to help Delilah after what hap--”

Prue shook her head at Piper's words and interrupted her sister, “I don't care about that now. I can deal with that when she's alive.” The two sisters' eyes bulged at the word “alive.” “The baby is going to kill her,” Prue whispered, moisture threatening her eyes again. “Just like how Lily was killed.”

Piper sighed as she combed through her brunette hair with her hands. “Will it even work?” she asked in disbelief.

“It has to,” Prue snapped at her, walking over to the book. “I spent nights up here creating potions and mixtures of whatever I could come up with, and I spent nights coming up with spells to make this work. This potion will be strong enough to save her and the spell will be strong enough to pull her through and keep her alive.” Prue added the extra emphasis to make her explanation more believable, even though she did it not only for her sisters, but for herself too.

Phoebe looked down at the Book of Shadows and read what she and her sisters were supposed to recite to bless the potion. She peered up at Prue, her face contorted with worry. “Prue, I know how much you love Delilah and we love her too, despite what she's done, but doing this spell could lead to huge personal gain.” She swallowed before finishing, “Maybe Delilah's destiny is to... be like her mother.”

Prue set down the vial onto the table to keep herself from squeezing the bottle into a million shards. “That's not her destiny,” Prue seethed, angry tears falling out of the corner of her eyes. “She can't die. I won't believe that. Who cares what the consequences are! I have to save her!”

“Prue, Phoebe has a point--”

“Piper, she can't die!” Prue cried, tears flooding. “I couldn't save Andy,” she sobbed, “but I'm going to save Delilah.” Piper and Phoebe exchanged looks, both of them torn as they watched their older sister, the strongest of the three, fall apart. “Please, help me...”

Phoebe and Piper looked at Prue and hugged her, comforting her by telling her they would help. Once Prue had calmed some, her sisters grasped her hand. Phoebe grabbed the vial and set it in front of them, next to the book. Together, they read off the words inside the page and watched as the white liquid shimmered as though it were coming alive.

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I'm thinking only two more chapters left. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please review! :)