...City of the Sea, Parrot Cove...

His fingers strummed the guitar, coaxing melodies from strings that would never play for anyone else. Grizzled and mangy, he looked far better suited as an old drunk then as a watchman. The last man who had suggested he find other employment had quickly found another world to inhabit. This was his place, overlooking the ocean, this was where he belonged and he would be damned if he let another take it over. Besides, anyone who was stupid enough to approach Parrot Cove knew what was inside or they wouldn't have dreamed of coming near the mountains. Oh Clan Theron had many other strongholds but this was an old favorite, a relic from days long past. Personally, he thought the world would be far easier if things were the same as when the City was made.

Glancing idly down, he was surprised to see two figures making their way across the rocks. He frowned as he looked down at them. The Clan was in a virtual lock down and anyone wearing the cloak of the Clan would not be traveling at this hour to begin with. Using, he found a helicopter taking off a few miles back. His eyes narrowed, no-one would be stupid enough to use a helicopter, it was too risky. His eyes widened in shock as he got to his feet, waving the guitar away. It couldn't be, not after all these years--but as he watched them make their way towards him the more he was convinced it was. Finally they were within earshot and he listened in.

"Look I don't know when they're going to return," she snapped turning around to face him, "I mean maybe they won't come back."

"Everyone's memories come back," he replied, "besides if I remember correctly, you remembered how I smell."

"Remembering how you smell and remembering that we had an intimate relationship are two very different things," Claire said turning to face him.

"I told you that we didn't have an intimate relationship," Chase said, "in fact, I think this may be the longest amount of time we've spent alone--ever."

"Since my memories are a little--uh--missing, remind me of why that is again?" she said sarcastically.

"I don't know, just things got in the way."

"You mean like Boyscout?"

Chase shook his head and hid his laughter. Claire may not have remembered much, but her wicked tongue had come back as soon as she started to let her guard down around him. Neither of them liked to wait, that certainly hadn't changed, so it didn't take them very long to start to trust each other. After the kiss it had pretty much happened. Now he could sing three Theron 'ballads' in his sleep and found out that she was actually, deep down, not as different from the Claire he knew as he feared. He did his best to explain their relationship, though trying to explain it even to himself turned out to be an extremely complicated feat. He managed to explain that they were in love but not in the most technical sense. She seemed surprised but had let him tell his--their--story. Then they had started trekking towards wherever they were going.

"Among other things," he said shooting her an apologetic look.

"Yep," she said looking up at the doors.

"Do we knock?" he asked.

"No," she said.

"Before we--uh--go in there," he said turning to her, "if they decide to kill me, I want you to know that--"

"Again with the forbidden love, what did I tell you about no emotional attachment?"

"As if you're not attached to me," he said smirking.

"Maybe a little bit," she said returning the smile, "enough so that I'll make sure no-one's going to kill you."

"Well I want you to know that when I look at you, I don't see you killing anyone anymore," he said with a shrug, trying to make his words sound light-hearted, "I do see someone I'd like to get to know better," he looked over as the doors creaked, "preferably in this life and not in the next one."

"Like I'm going to let anyone kill you after that," she said lacing her fingers with his, "i swear you have the worst timing," he opened his mouth, "not you as a Warlock, you as in Chase you."

"Well yours isn't spectacular either," he shot back.

Their argument was cut off as the massive doors opened. Claire had expected for her father to make them walk through the city like some kind of spectacle. It was clear that he expected to not let them in the city at all. She felt Chase squeeze her hand and squared her shoulders. It seemed like her entire life had been leading up to this one moment. The man that walked out wearing the red and gold ornate cloak looked like an older, male version of Claire. Somehow Chase had always expected her to look like her mother, but apparently she took after her father. From the expression on his face, she took after him in more ways than one. Chase felt slightly sick at the coldness in the man's eyes. The rush of wind across his palm made him realize she had let go of his hand, the coldness falling around her like a cloak again.

"The world is thick with anticipation and my daughter comes to the house of her father," he turned to Chase, "and brings a Warlock with her? What madness is this?"

"I am resurrected," she said bowing deeply. He reached out and touched her forehead with his finger.

"I see," he said lowering it, "you've spent time with the Guardians now too? Is there a world you don't whore yourself out too?"

"I don't whore myself to anyone," she said standing, "who I choose to work for is a different matter." he raised his eyebrows skeptically, "who I choose to lead is as well."

"I see you remember the Alliance," he said.

"I see you still haven't found a way around it," she said glancing at his entourage, "or you would have killed me the moment I approached the door. Now when you let me inside I will tell you how we can finally finish off the Covenant of Salem," she reached into her pocket and pulled out a slip of paper, "I know where they're going to land and who they're going to attack," she smiled slowly, "and I know how to kill them."

"Well," he said after a pause, "it seems you've made yourself useful again daughter," he looked at Chase, "and you must be the infamous Chase Putnam," he continued. Claire turned to look at Chase who suddenly found it hard to breath, "I don't suppose you realize the kind of trouble you put this world through," he said, "I don't think I've ever met a Warlock whose single handedly tipped the Balance as drastically as you did."

"In all fairness," Chase said, "I wasn't alone in tipping it."

"No," he said nodding, "no you weren't alone but I doubt things would have happened as drastically if it had been anyone else," he shrugged, "you seem to inspire action in those around you," he looked at Claire, "whether its good or bad, remains to be seen. But for the moment the two of you are welcome inside," he motioned to the gates, "come, we have much to discuss."

...The Winnebago...

Groaning Reid opened his eyes and looked at the inside of the trailer. From the angle of the light he had either been out for a very long time or no time at all. Carefully he swung his legs around and got to his feet. The trailer was completely silent which was unusual considering how loud everyone normally was. He felt like he had a hangover. Carefully he he walked to the door and tugged it open, going out into the bright sunlight. He shielded his eyes and looked around, but his eyes only found Sonya. She was sitting with her back to the trailer, arms wrapped around her legs and her eyes focused in between her hands.

"Where is everyone?" he asked running his hand across the back of his neck.

"Out and about," she said, "I have no idea," she sighed, "I think they went off to try and figure out the next move," she said and looked down at her hands again, "they left me to babysit."

"I don't need a babysitter," he said.

"Oh really? You've been completely out for the past day," she said, but her voice wasn't as harsh as it should've been.

"Alright what's going on?" he asked suspiciously, walking over to her and sitting down, "you don't sound as vicious as you normally do."

"I'm fine," she said closing her hands instantly. He rolled his eyes with a soft sound, "what?"

"You're holding the locket," he said sounding harsher than he planned.

She sighed and extended her legs, moving her hands to her lap and opening them to reveal the locket cradled in her palms. He looked at the small trinket, the thing that had changed their lives so drastically. Her eyes were fixed on it. She hadn't been crying, he knew that much, but she had obviously been fixed on the locket. He wondered how long she had been carrying it around and realized she had most likely had it on her since Parker finally died. Then he noticed that by her side she had a tin of spearmints and one of her other hands was absently traced the letters on the cover. He knew she hated spearmints.

"Finally decide to try them again?" he asked nodding towards them, desperate for something else to talk about.

"No," she said hollowly, "they're Max's," she hung her head, "and they're not mints--" she exhaled sharply, "they're pills, suppressants to keep the effects of a curse back. All this time I wondered why he was suddenly willing to hear me out, why he suddenly believed me. I just never thought, never in a million years, that he would be so sick."

"I thought he was cursed," Reid said.

"For someone like me--someone like him--there's very little difference," he gave her a blank look, "Max and I, we're immune to the Power. unfortunately that makes it very easy for us to be possessed. We can't co-exist with magic because we're the opposite of it," she shook her head, "I mean there are ways to exist with the power but they're dangerous and he doesn't know about them obviously, but I do," her face contorted, "i don't understand why he didn't just tell me! I could've helped him!"

"Who knows," Reid said, 'what do you mean by 'ways to exist with the power'?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes and reached to her shirt, pulling it open to expose her hip. Tattooed on it was a four point star, done in a strange ink that looked different from his tattoos. He felt a tug somewhere inside and strongly reminded himself that she had left. She had left just like Caleb and they hadn't seen each other since. In fact, if he hadn't gone to look after Tyler, they wouldn't have seen each other again. Dimly he realized she was talking and tried to focus on her voice.

"It's a way to help control," she said, "it amplifies my own ability and helps me regulate it," she sighed and let her shirt drop, "it's not just you all who have had manifestation of whatever was in that Locket," she said, "Claire, Mel and I have had symptoms, though I doubt Claire's let on with the others," she looked at the locket in her hand, "i tried to throw this thing away in a river once," she said rubbing her thumb across the surface, "I was about to and then I realized that there was no way this was over," she shook her head, "I want it to be over so badly."

"Do you still regret coming into this whole world?" he asked.

"Sometimes," she said, "sometimes I--" she shook her head.

"You what?" he asked.

"Sometimes I do wish I had kept running, that I had just found another town, another place," she rubbed her eyes, "and then I realize that would have solved nothing. I could have run forever but he would've caught me eventually. I'm glad that when he did catch me was able to do something," she looked at him, "I'm not sorry that Chase killed him though," she said, "Even if it had come down to my life or his, he would have been the one to walk out of it alive."

"You realize that not killing is usually a good thing," he said.

"I know," she sighed, "but you'd think after everything that's happened I'd at least be able too," se shrugged, "well no matter, it's not as if I've got people still fighting for the right to kill me," she carefully got to her feet, "I should go and put these back."

He nodded and she walked inside the trailer, replacing the tin before turning around and almost smacking into Max. She sucked in her breath at the sight of her brother with his fully black eyes. He was looking at her almost desperately, she could see the cuts on his face and the odd angle of his right arm. Slung over his left shoulder was the familiar body of Emily. He opened his mouth, a small trickle of blood escaping down his lip, his face contorted in horror before he fell to the ground.

"Max!" she cried falling to her knees next to him, "Max talk to me!"

"I saved her," he coughed, "he was going to kill her," he got out, "I'll be fine, the good side of being cursed," he closed his eyes, "its happened before, I just need sleep," Sonya nodded and grabbed him, hauling him to the couch, "I'm sorry I didn't--"

"Sleep," she said firmly, "I'm going to give you the worst tongue lashing you've had since the famous Barbie-incident when we were 12 when you wake up."

"Okay, 'night," he sighed, "and I won that argument."

She rolled her eyes and turned Emily over. The Envoy was feverish but alright. She wasn't unconscious but doubled over in pain, clutching the locket burn to her chest. her breath came in harsh, ragged gasps as her nails left red-moons down her forearm. The burn wasn't just natural or power but something in between. Sonya tried to move Emily's hand but the Envoy had a death grip on her arm and refused to budge it. Words were escaping through her harsh pants, muffled by her clenched teeth. Sonya leaned down, putting her ear next to her lips.

"He's after Reid," she made out.

...The Cottage, Sanctuary...

Caleb Danvers was speechless.

In all his incarnations, in everything he had done, he had never been dumbstruck by anyone but Sarah. He had met the head of the Witch Hunters, he had destroyed some of the most powerful threats the Magical world had ever seen, he had redeemed his entire Covenant--he had done some incredible things, by anyone's standards. And yet, facing Sarah, none of it seemed to matter. How the hell could those simple words knock the wind from him so easily? The only thing that could possibly be worse was the fact that he could come up with no reasonable response. He had had a good reason for leaving, he had a reason that made sense even too her and the best response he could come up with was:

"Huh?"

Despite the fact that she was furious, embarrassed and had a million things she wanted to make sure he understood, the fact that Caleb Danvers's best response to their argument was 'huh' made her struggle not to smile. Something inside her was relieved to know that somewhere under all that power and sorrow and pain, he was still there. He seemed to realize that she was struggling not to laugh and in the next surprise of the night, he felt his cheeks burn slightly. Sarah covered her lips with her hands and looked away, feeling herself blush in response. Glancing over at him, she bit her lip and lowered her hand slowly, letting it drop by her waist.

"You look different," she said finally.

"Yeah," he said scratching the back of his neck.

"About before," she began.

"I deserved it," he said and she nodded, "aside from--" he stopped, "how have you been?"

"I'm alright," she said, "what about you?"

"Same," he said.

"Claire and Chase are gone," Pogue called from downstairs.

"Oh no," he said looking horrified.

"What?" Sarah asked.

"Claire doesn't remember anything past leaving the Witch Hunters," he said, "if she's gone to the Hunters," he trailed off but Sarah understood, nodding. He pulled open the door and she followed him. He stopped, his hand gently encircling her wrist, "I-" he stopped, "I missed you," he said softly.

"I missed you too," she said turning her wrist and entwining their fingers, "come on."

Together they headed downstairs.