A/N: Thanks to Joleca.

Revamped: 02/02/2016.

Is it possible? Honestly, a simple question really. Is it possible?

Possible for what?

Is it possible to feel as if someone has taken hold of your heart and ripped it from your chest like some crazed buffoon? Then stomped on it, shredded it, ripped it, chewed it up and spit it back out before throwing it back into your chest till next time?

It's completely possible.

Cole half-hardheartedly finished packing his last suitcase with a heavy-handed toss of some official looking documents. He grasped the heavy case in one hand, and cast a mournful look around his enormous penthouse. He shifted from one foot to another; half hoping someone would shimmer, orb, or fade in to tell him why he shouldn't leave San Francisco.

He let out a soft, sorrowful sigh and lowered his head toward the ground. Tears stung the corners of his blue eyes, but he took a deep breath, set his jaw square, and shook off the terrible gut-wrenching feeling. He faded away to another location that was both unknown to him and all others.

Just the way he wanted it.

Phoebe Halliwell, no longer a mermaid but still feeling very much like a fish out of water, anxiously paced about her room. She ran her hand through her hair, again and again, unsure and confused as to why she was so restless.

"I'm not happy," she stated aloud. Her voice was above a whisper, but not loud enough that her sisters would confusedly stop and listen by her closed door. "I'm...I'm...Am I sad? Depressed? I'm regretful, right? Is that what that is? It sucks," she breathed out in a mutter.

She had only just recently received news from her sisters that Cole was no longer in San Francisco; that he had actually moved away for her sake. Paige, red hair flying behind her, had excitedly announced to the Halliwell clan that Cole had quit his job at the firm, and had disappeared from the face of the earth.

Phoebe had immediately felt an odd pressure in her chest. An unsure, restless pressure that internally declared that she didn't like the news one bit. Although she knew she should be happy and excited like her sisters, she couldn't help but find herself fading away from their presence. She spoke less and paced more, praying to any deity for Cole to return and that the whole ordeal would be nothing more than a cruel joke.

Nothing more than a test of her love and loyalty to Cole Turner.

"Hi, I'm Felicia. Felix, really."

Cole glanced up from his fifth whiskey, and eyed the younger woman wearily.

"Hello, Felicia," he mumbled. He knocked back the drink, and raised a finger at the bartender for another.

"Mind if I sit here?" she asked, a hurt expression crossing her her face.

Cole shrugged and sipped at his recently topped-off drink. He unknowingly twisted the gold band on his left hand. Felicia paused when she noticed the action.

"I'm sorry, but are you married?" she asked.

Cole cast her a rueful grin, and lifted up his left hand. "Oh, this? No, not anymore."

"Oh. That's good."

"Good?" he questioned, a storm brewing in his piercing stare as he twisted on the bar stool to properly face the woman.

She shifted uncomfortably, and muttered, "Not what I meant. Sorry."

Cole nodded, slowly then quickly, before he turned to face forward again. He took another sip of the burning alcohol, and relished the feeling of emptiness that evaporated with each drop. Felicia watched him from the corner of her eye.

She took in his dark, mussed up hair, and gray-blue eyes. Her eyes grazed the stubble on his squared-jaw, and the leather jacket that encased a seemingly fit body.

Felicia grinned, and scratched at her nose.

"What do you do? For a living, I mean."

He visibly swallowed. "I'm a lawyer. I was lawyer. I just quit about a month ago."

Felicia's smile widened. She grabbed her clutch from atop the bar, and asked, "Mind if we go somewhere else? I could but you another drink at a pub I know."

"Hell," he muttered, "Why not? He slapped money down, and struggled to stand.

"Great!" she exclaimed before she scratched at her nose again.

"Allergies?"

"What?" Her eyes widened, but then she laughed. "Oh! Yes, that's it. Allergies."

When Cole finally managed to make it out of the bar, the cold of the night was like a slap to his face. He rubbed at his pink cheeks for warmth, leaning a little too much into Felix's side as she walked him slowly towards an alley.

"S'where's the pub?" he asked as she walked, and he ambled.

"Over here," she replied quickly. "We're close."

Then she shoved Cole forward with all of her strength.

Before Cole could react to his sudden posture, face down and on the asphalt, a boot-clad foot kicked him in the ribs. He curled up, unable to moan when he no longer had air in his lungs to expel, before a boot to his face and chest caused him to involuntarily open up again. Blows rained on his exposed body until they finally stopped. Cole lie on his side, unable to open his eyes, and almost unwilling to.

He was seized by the lapels of his jacket, and pulled up slightly. He managed to open his right eye in time to see Felix's mouth moving. He muttered something incoherently as he felt his jacket forcibly being removed from his battered body, and the pockets of his jeans being roughly searched.

"The money!" someone shouted.

"Wha-?" Cole groaned.

"Give me your damn money!"

"No. No money," he muttered. He let himself sink deeper into the darkness, and finally went limp in the arms that held him up. A man muttered in disgust before donning the leather jacket, and tossing aside the now empty wallet.

Felix sighed and released her hold on the now unconscious man. She apologized to her companion before they took off; screeching as rain began to pelt down against their bodies. They didn't cast another look to the bruised and battered man they left behind.

"Where is Phoebe? I called for her ten minutes ago, and she still hasn't shown up yet." Piper waved a wooden spoon in the air as she crossed from one side of the kitchen to the other.

"She's thinking," Paige mumbled around a cream-cheese covered bagel.

"Thinking?" Piper rushed to a boiling pot of water. "Thinking about what? What is she thinking about?" She turned a knob, and scrunched her nose at the oven.

"Cole, if you ask me." The red head casually brushed off crumbs from her halter-top.

Piper turned from the stove top, placed her hands on her hips, and perked a brow. "Why do you think that?"

"Well, isn't she always?"

"Yeah," Piper sighed. She placed the wooden spoon on the counter, and tugged the oversize oven mitts off her hands. "He did just leave."

"Isn't that what we wanted?"

"Of course! It's just that it's Cole, Paige. The Cole we know, knew, would have continued fighting for Phoebe till death do him part."

"Maybe that's what happened!" Paige exclaimed. "Maybe he was finally killed off by some bounty hunter or something."

"Paige," Piper sighed.

"What? It's probably true." She grinned. "Finally." She took another large chunk out of her bagel, laughing when Piper swatted at her hand.

"Dinner's almost ready!"

"M'sorry!" Paige said, her mouth full.

Cole let loose a guttural moan.

He concentrated as hard as he could on home, wherever that was, and squeezed his eyes shut.

With more than a little effort, he finally faded from the alley, and into the Halliwell Manor.

TBC...

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