Bitter Destruction

LAST CHAPTER!

*drum roll*

Enjoy! :)

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Third Person POV

Brown, orange, and red leaves fell from the towering trees onto the deserted street. The sun was high in the sky, surrounded by fluffy clouds that danced in the baby blue. A crack between the car's top and window let cool wind into the interior, surrounding the driver, but she had too much on her mind to even feel the effect of the breeze.

Prue inhaled and exhaled deeply, keeping both of her hands on the steering wheel, realizing that she was near her destination. She hadn't been there in such a long time, it almost seemed surreal to go there again. The tires came to a stop as she pressed her foot onto the break pedal. The black fence, taller than her, imprisoned the cracked stones and the wilted flowers. Something tightened in the witch's chest.

This was it.

Another inhale that shook her lungs. Prue opened the door, placing her feet down onto the colorful leaves, hearing them cry out beneath her heels. Another exhale shuddered out between her lips. She could see it already. The tombstone. A tear tickled the skin of her cheek.

She walked forward, through the creaking gate and past the shedding trees. She glanced over at a man on the other side of the cemetery, his cheeks a dark pink; this made Prue pull down her wool hat even farther, covering her pink ears. Her black long coat gathered foreign leaves at the end of it. Her hands wore leather gloves. She'd worn all of this to keep herself warm, but, honestly, she wasn't aware her body even existed. She didn't feel the cold nor the warmth. She felt the guilt and the pressure. That kept her from turning around.

In the back of her mind, she hoped that Piper had turned the baby monitor on in the kitchen after Prue left. She thought she mentioned it... but maybe she hadn't. Her footfalls halted; her eyes were wide with alert.

'Hang on,' her mind snapped before she could turn back toward the gate and run to her purse or her keys. 'Piper will know what to do. Relax and do what you need to do.'

Prue swallowed, shutting her eyes. "Saying good-bye," she whispered.

She turned around and continued walking.

Her heart did this pitter-patter movement that made her breathing increase. What, was she nervous? Scared? Worried? "It's hard to say good-bye," she'd heard people say to her before. But this was almost terrifying.

She thought she'd said good-bye already. Maybe on the day of death. Maybe when Prue kissed the hand, tasting her own salty tears on the lifeless surface, and whispered, "I love you..." But she recalled herself thinking, "I won't say good-bye to you."

She thought she'd never love again. Not until Delilah came into her life. She laughed softly as she remembered the night Delilah came to the Halliwell Manor and Prue slept downstairs in the living room while Delilah took her bedroom. Prue remembered thinking about Delilah that night, how unsure and afraid of the world she looked in her soft eyes. Prue knew something wasn't right. Delilah could not have been there to kill the Charmed Ones, Prue was sure of it; Delilah was their innocent.

That night, though, something else nudged Prue's mind: how fluttery her heart seemed to be all of a sudden. She'd never considered herself bisexual, and never a lesbian, but, at some points, she couldn't deny how beautiful another woman looked or how she felt an impulse to flirt (and more) with another girl. She thought that was something just natural; all women had that. Then she realized what she felt with Delilah felt, though not as hard-hitting, but on some wavelength, close to what she felt as an empath when she saw Cole and Phoebe. That irresistible need to hold that other person, kiss them until your body nearly passes out, offer them pleasure until they scream your name in blissful passion. Lust, maybe. And Prue heard herself laugh again. Maybe that was it.

Then again, maybe it wasn't.

Prue peered up and saw the silver gravestone poking out between a clutter of leaves. Any ounce of happiness melted away. She bit down on her lip, shutting her eyes and stopping. She had a choice now: turn back or say good-bye.

"I don't want to lose you."

"Don't worry. You won't."

Turn back... or say good-bye.

"I'll always be there for you, Prue.

Opening her eyes, letting tears trickle down, Prue slowly took steps forward. It was right in front of her, staring at her. The name, the two dates, the "in loving memory." There were faded roses tucked under the blanket of leaves. Prue knelt down next to the tombstone and felt the silk petals between her fingertips. She did this for a while, settling her nerves before she had to speak.

"Hi," she whispered, keeping her eyes trained on the roses. Her heart was going to implode soon from all the pressure building in her chest. "Um..." It hurt to talk. Her breath was shaken. Her throat was way too dry. "I'm - sorry," she finally managed to say, her voice breaking. "I... keep thinking... about the day--" Her throat was clogged, disabling her voice. Her eyes lifted and stared at the name imprinted on the tombstone. "I'm sorry... I couldn't save you..." she whispered, tracing her hand over the stone.

"Come on, Prue."

She gasped, widening her eyes at the sound of the voice. The voice of the person buried beneath her.

"You say sorry way too much."

Her mouth half-smiled as more tears fell out from between her eyelids. "I'll... always... love you," she whispered, resting her head against the tombstone. Pulling away, feeling much braver after hearing the words that comforted her, she stood up, using the stone as help, and leaned down to kiss the top of it. "But..." she said, swallowing the pain that etched her words, "I have... to say good-bye..." She whispered the name engraved on the stone, kissed it one last time, and, once more, her final time, murmured, "I love you."

She couldn't look away as she walked backward onto the path. She did it. She really did it this time. A sad but rewarding smile graced her mouth when she continued to walk back to the gate. She shut it quietly, not hearing the mournful creak, and cast one last glance at the tombstone so far away.

Prue reached the Halliwell Manor in a matter of minutes, the tension that had hibernated in her chest for past few weeks was now vanquished. She walked around the back of her home and entered through the back-kitchen door. By the strong aroma of all sorts of spices, she knew Piper was still in there. "Hey," she said, shrugging out of her long jacket and taking off her hat.

"Oh, hey," Piper said from behind the counter, chopping celery, a smile in her voice. She scooped the vegetables up and set them into a pan, hearing them crackle in excitement. "Prue, your cheeks are tomatoes!" she cried, rinsing her hands under the faucet.

Using the back of her hands, Prue touched her cheeks and shivered; they were very cold. "Yeah," she mumbled, standing across from Piper. "Did you have the monitor on?"

Piper shot an annoyed glance at Prue. "Of course. Lily made a little noise, but she's quiet now. Leo went out to buy a changing table after you left." Prue watched a smile spread between her younger sister's cheeks. "I think he enjoys building the nursery and holding Lily even though he knows he shouldn't enjoy it. Stupid Elders."

Prue's eyes narrowed teasingly. "Are you thinking about building a nursery in your closet, Piper?" she asked, but she was more serious than joking.

Piper shrugged but held the smile -- it maybe even broadened further. "How did it go at the cemetery?" she asked, changing the subject. Her chocolate eyes flickered up to Prue, curious. "Did you... say what you wanted?"

"Yeah..." Prue said, her lip twitching so she bit it. She wished she'd said more, explained things. Said why she was saying good-bye now. The pressure started to fill up her throat, warning her that thinking about it another time was going to take her back again. "I'm going upstairs."

Piper set down the utensils in her hand and walked over to Prue, wrapping her arms around her back. Prue tensed at first but welcomed the embrace, pushing her mouth into the shoulder of her sister. "I love you, Prue," Piper said, her voice flowing into Prue's ear, and then she kissed the top of her head, tightening the hug.

"I love you, too," she whispered though it was muffled against Piper's sweater. She pulled away, managing something of a smile. "Thanks."

Piper nodded, stroking Prue's shoulder with her hand, then letting her sister go on her way.

Prue walked out of the kitchen, taking a few deep breaths that rattled her ribs. Before going up the staircase, Prue caught a glimpse of her youngest sister on the couch with her new fiancée. Phoebe sat on Cole's lap, resting her head on his chest, admiring the diamond ring shining on her finger. On Phoebe's graduation day, she got a call from The Bay Mirror to start giving readers advice. 'Ask Phoebe' was slowly becoming more popular and popular. Cole spent a lot of time helping Leo with the construction of Lily's nursery, and that kept him busy. When Phoebe was done with work, she and Cole were inseparable -- making wedding plans, arguing over stupid things, or... you can guess the other stuff.

Even though she always had that voice at the back of her mind telling her that Cole still had evil intentions, she also had the impression that Cole loved Phoebe and would protect her, despite the evil that coursed through his veins. Plus, he made her really happy, and Phoebe's happiness made the rest of the house happy.

Smiling about them, Prue continued her journey up to the next story. She perched her hand on the doorknob, unsure on what to do next. Her muscles decided for her; the door opened with the twist of her wrist. She walked in, closing the door behind her. The bed was unmade and Prue felt her heart jump. She walked past the dresser, packed to the core with clothes, and past the cardboard boxes assorted near the dresser, each of them crammed with more clothes. Prue reminded herself to get another dresser... or to sell the attire. She would've rolled her eyes at the second thought, but her mind was intent on keeping her feet moving.

The closet door was open to a wooden crib surrounded by cushioning that would keep the baby from hurting herself. Prue peered in to catch a look of Delilah's daughter's sweet pudgy face, soft blue eyes, like her mother's, and patch of silky black hair, also like her mother's. But the baby was absent. Immediate concern diseased Prue's insides.

"Looking for something?"

Prue's body angled in a different direction, toward the old rocking chair that was up in the attic for god-knows-how-many years. She caught the face of the person sitting in the rocking chair -- the long black hair, the light eyes, the pale skin -- and her body relaxed. Almost melted.

"How are you doing?" Delilah asked Prue in soft tones, her eyebrows arching in confusion. "What's wrong?"

Prue walked forward and knelt next to the rocking chair, her head next to her lover's arm. "Nothing," she murmured, stroking the woman's arm with her hand. "Everything's okay."

Her face stayed the same. "You're sure?"

Prue's body erected to kiss Delilah passionately on the mouth. The younger woman moaned into the kiss, welcoming the tender affection. Prue pulled away and kissed the side of Delilah's mouth. "Very," Prue whispered, her heart full and beating regularly.

Delilah smiled, licking her lips once. She looked down at the sleeping being cradled in her arms, wrapped neatly in a fleece blanket. "She's so beautiful, isn't she?" she whispered, petting the side of the baby's head with her thumb. "My little Lily Patricia..."

Prue smiled, resuming her kneeling position. "Of course she's beautiful. She looks just like you."

Delilah's cheeks flushed and she rolled her eyes, but she didn't reject the comment. She stared at Prue's face for a while, watching her watch Lily, taking in her facial features. Delilah's whole body felt warm and strong. She'd done it. She proved to herself that she was strong enough to give birth to this baby. She didn't need help; she was strong enough. Finally, she felt worthy enough to be with Prue, the strongest of the three Halliwell witches. She was finally strong, too.

"I love you, Prue," Delilah whispered.

Prue looked at Delilah, staring into those victimized eyes. She remembered the blackness that filled them when Delilah was no longer in control. When the demonic-side of the baby had overtaken her mother's body. Prue had repeated over and over again to herself that she had to use the potion to save Delilah, no matter what. No matter how angry and helpless Delilah would feel when she found out. But she didn't have to know. Delilah could believe that she was strong. Prue wouldn't take that from her.

And now they were all safe from harm. From death.

"I love you, too, Delilah," Prue whispered back.

They kissed once more, but were interrupted by the sound of soft yawning coming from Delilah's arms. They looked down to meet baby blue eyes that looked back. "Hi, Lily," Prue whispered, grinning at her.

Lily's eyes focused on Prue's face and contorted, giving her a bizarre look.

Prue frowned while Delilah giggled. "She's just trying to figure out how you're the daddy."

Both of them laughed while Lily kept watching them, absolutely bewildered.

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So it's the end. Like it? :) Don't like it? :( Haha, let me know! Also, if you haven't already told me your email, PLEASE LET ME KNOW. I want to be able to tell you guys about the... sequel. :D Wait... the next story would be considered a sequel also, right? Haha, better get this straight, but, yes, I am going to write another story about Miss Prue and Miss Delilah. Well, only if I get reviews and people want me to make another. Or I'll just retire. ;) It all depends!

The end. :) Hope to hear from you all soon!

My email is candycaner@hotmail.com. Drop me a line anytime! :)

--CandyCaner