Author's note: Reposting Chapter 21. I noticed two big flubs in Phoebe's dialogue and as long as I could fix it, I couldn't bear to let it stand. That pronoun "you" is a sneaky one - just slips on in even when you don't want it!

"This looks a lot different from when I was last here," Chris said.

Getting into Wyatt's personal headquarters had been far easier than Cole had anticipated, since the guards had decamped. Chaos was bubbling up on the streets below, and whether the guards had left to deal with that, or simply fled to save their own skins, it didn't matter. With the door sealed, and the only elevator that reached these floors disabled (excepting Wyatt, even beings who could shimmer, blink or orb had to rely on that elevator), Phoebe, Cole and Chris were, temporarily at least, safe.

"When were you here?" Cole asked Chris.

"Right after Wyatt took over the building. Demons and workmen were swarming all over, moving out all the office furniture, getting ready to convert it into ... well, all this, I guess."

Wyatt had the top few floors of the Pyramid to himself, renovated to connect to each other via internal stairs and an open atrium that probably needed magic to keep the architecture structurally sound. All around was an odd combination of spacious, sterile design with antique cabinets in corners displaying weapons, potion paraphernalia, and sinister-looking artifacts. It was all familiar enough to Cole. While hundreds tramped through the Halliwells' former home, Wyatt had allowed very few to enter this place. Cole had been one of those few - in fact, he had been yanked from the cosmic void into this very front room where Chris and Phoebe now gawked.

Chris continued, "I came on a kind of last-ditch, what-the-hell-are-you-doing attempt to talk sense into him. Wyatt had called me in to offer me a place to live. Gave me second choice of any floor in the Pyramid."

"And you turned him down," Cole said.

"I said I'd take the Manor or nothing. Obviously, nothing is what I got."

"The Manor ..." Phoebe echoed. "My sisters are dead, too, aren't they. I just can't imagine Piper, any of us, letting-"

She gave Chris a look of pity, and he dropped his gaze to the floor, and that was her answer.

"They'd be here," she said. "And where's Leo in all this?"

"Leo's not much of a factor," Chris said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'd rather not talk about it."

But Cole elaborated: "The Elders have circled the wagons, protecting good magical beings, and that includes Whitelighters. Leo pokes his head in the real world probably more often than the Elders would like - I'm sure it's risky to all of them. I've seen Leo more often than Chris has, come to that, because Leo sees Wyatt. And Leo thinks I'm - well, not a true believer, but he thinks I'm an opportunist for evil. Much like Caza. On Wyatt's side because I want to be. It hasn't occurred to him that I'm a spy."

"It seemed safer to keep him in the dark," Chris said.

"Gives him someone to blame, too. Oh, he knows Wyatt was way off path before I showed up, but I'm still a bad influence."

"And no one else suspects you?" Phoebe asked.

"Yeah, Caza's found me out - but I know you mean Wyatt. As far as I know, he believes I'm loyal."

"You'd know if he didn't," Chris said.

"Somehow I don't think being loyal gets you a free pass into this place," Phoebe said.

"No, it doesn't. But I've been here by invitation - on orders, that is - a fair amount. Chris took advantage of that - asked me to steal something that he and his friends could use to scry for Wyatt, keep tabs on him. And carrying out that job gave me the idea - with each visit, inflict nearly undetectable magical weaknesses on security."

"You never told me you were doing that," Chris said.

"And you never told me you were trying to rewrite the timeline, so we're even. It was a contingency plan, for the day I - or we - would have a pressing need to get in here"

"Like today," Phoebe said.

"Exactly," Chris said. "We've got work to do."

"I've got work to do," Phoebe reminded him. "And I don't even know how to do it. Is there something in the Book of Shadows about this?"

"I'm sure there was."

"Was?"

Chris sighed. "The Book is gone. Gone down with the Manor. We had to escape and ... it was in a different room. I couldn't get to it in time. I'm sorry."

Phoebe groaned and sank into one of the doubtlessly expensive but not all that comfortable chairs, leaned her elbows on her knees and buried her face in her hands. After a silent moment, she raised her head and told Chris, "Getting out alive was the right thing to do." She leaned over and patted a nearby chair. "I guess I need Whitelighter help. What am I supposed to do?"

Cole left them to it. He may have been in these quarters before, but never beyond that first-floor front room that served to receive guests. Time to explore farther. He prowled the rooms, inspecting the cabinets, rummaging through drawers and closets, and trying to concentrate on a defense plan in case Wyatt decided to reappear. But what would happen if Wyatt did try to return? The attic was gone. That could be the best they could hope for - Wyatt returns to his time, and immediately meets his death at the bottom of that pit.

Cole wasn't supposed to think like that - he knew Phoebe and Chris wouldn't approve - but someone had to be the realist here.

On the top floor, Cole found what had to be Wyatt's bedroom. Aside from that receiving area on the first floor, it was the largest room, simply furnished in a muted, dark-toned color scheme, the large bed by wide windows dominating half of it, with a single dresser and a long, high bookshelf crammed with old magical volumes. Open floor took up the other half, and weapons and other training equipment lined the walls around it. And there was another door.

When Cole tried it, it didn't open into another closet as he expected. Actually, it might have been a closet, once, but a very large one. Now it was a very small room, unlike anything else in the place - the inner, inner sanctum. Cole could root through it, but something told him he'd glean more with Chris along.

When he returned to the first floor, Phoebe was pacing and Chris was arguing.

"I know you can do this, Phoebe. I've seen you do it."

"Not yet. I'm not supposed to have this power yet, and getting pushed into it - I probably never will."

"You're fighting it."

"Damn right I'm fighting it. I know what it can do. I've felt it."

"See? That's what I'm saying. If you've felt it, you already have it in you."

"If I have it in me, there's no way I can reach it here. If there was just somewhere to meditate, to find some quiet. But the energy in this place - it's like the rooms themselves are screaming at me."

"Maybe I can help," Cole said.

They hadn't noticed him leaning against a doorframe on the sidelines, but now Phoebe threw up her hands.

"Having you lurking nearby isn't exactly calming."

"That's not what I meant," he said, straightening up. "I've found a room. Let me show you."

Phoebe looked doubtful, but she followed him upstairs anyway, with Chris tagging along. When they entered the bedroom, Chris said, "Yeah, I don't think-"

"Not this room," Cole said. "Over here."

Phoebe's shoes tapped on the hardwood floors of the open space as Cole led her to the door. And when she saw inside, she said softly, "Oh! This is ... this might do."

"What did I tell you?" Cole said.

Cole waited at the door as both Phoebe and Chris entered. The lack of windows almost added to its incongruously homey feel. No bright skyscraper sunlight would pour in here. Just lamps and a few pieces of worn furniture. In one corner was a potion-making setup. There was a stand waiting - it would wait forever - for the Book of Shadows. The little room was nothing like the Manor's attic - not a bit of woodwork in sight, for one - but it called the attic to mind all the same.

Chris touched one of the chairs. "This is the real thing. The furniture in the museum must be replicas, at least some of it."

"Museum?" Phoebe said. "This stuff is in the Manor right now. In my time."

"The Manor is - was - a museum," Cole said. "Wyatt opened it to the public."

Phoebe blinked and then looked to Chris, apparently for some explanation, but he was contemplating the empty stand. Then she said, "A museum. I honestly have no idea what to say about that."

"And you haven't even seen the exhibits," Cole said.

"I'm sure I don't want to know. But at least all this is here." She settled into a cushioned chair, just fitting into it sitting cross-legged.

Chris stepped up to the empty stand. "I want to try something." He recited:

I call upon the ancient power

To help us in this darkest hour.

Let the Book return to this place,

Claim refuge in its rightful space.

Nothing happened.

Chris shrugged. "It worked before. In the attic."

"Which would be its 'rightful space,'" Phoebe pointed out. "This may be the best room here, but it's still not home. Anyway, it's okay." She tapped her temple. "I have some spells stored away in here, too. Now, shoo. Give me some time alone."

She closed the door behind Chris and Cole, who worked their way back downstairs. Night was coming on, but they kept the lights low, like they were in a wartime blackout. The front room had a view of the ocean, and stretches of the shore were without artificial light, but were punctuated by flares of fire. It was still a better view than what was inland.

"What a world to come from, where the murders of two people is a catastrophe," Cole said as Chris joined him at the window.

"He could have done way worse in the past. But he didn't. I'll take what we can get."

"We got lucky. You heard what Phoebe said. He has no active powers back there. Nothing to do with any latent good nature in your brother - which, by the way, is what this new plan of yours is entirely riding on. It's an even worse idea than your first."

"I have faith in Phoebe."

"Believe me, that's all I have faith in. I don't have faith in your brother, at no matter what age. Phoebe may discover powers she never knew she had, but if you're wrong about Wyatt, it won't do a damn bit of good. And if you're wrong, what she discovers could break her."

"If you have faith in Phoebe, you should have faith that she's stronger than that. She just needs to get in touch with it."

Phoebe was failing to focus on meditating, her distracted mind unable to let go of the turmoil of the past twenty-four hours. She felt the presence of the wrecked city around her, while all over again, she saw Paige weeping, heard Piper's chilly voice, felt Wyatt's anger. A long-ago premonition forced its way to the surface: herself, her hands pressed to the sides of a man's head as she murdered him. She knew what Wyatt felt. She knew the rage. She also knew that buried in those roiling emotions that had assaulted her last night was the tiniest seed of regret. It was that, and only that, that made Chris's idea seem worth trying. But why did it have to be her, now?

She wished for help, she wished for her sisters, by her side in a way they couldn't be, not right now, and not back then.

Meditation had never been like this. Not the distracted mind - that happened often enough. Not even the feeling that she was floating - done that, too, but maybe not quite like this. Phoebe felt compelled to open her eyes. When she did, she was still seated cross-legged in the old Manor chair, but the small, windowless room was gone. There was no room at all, just airy whiteness and another chair opposite, a two-seater, one of the white wicker ones from the conservatory. And there, watching her, sat Prue.

For the second time that day, Phoebe rushed to give a family member a hug, this time jumping over to join Prue in the chair and throwing her arms around her shoulders, squeezing her, bringing their heads together, like in the old days.

"Where did you come from?" Phoebe exclaimed while Prue, laughing, scooted over to make room. "Wait, where am I? I was thinking of using the spell to summon the dead, but I hadn't tried it yet. So how..."

"Even without the spell, we could feel you reaching out - which was weird, since you're dead, too," Prue said wryly. "But if you had tried the spell, it wouldn't have worked. It's been really difficult for the living to make that kind of connection, ever since ... well, it's been difficult."

"Circling the wagons," Phoebe mused, echoing Cole's words.

"That's one way to put it."

"Yeah, just something I heard. So, if I didn't even say the spell, the spell that won't work, how am I here? Where is here? Am I dead? I mean, me me, not the me in the future - oh, this is so confusing."

"You don't look dead to me. You also don't belong to this time, which makes it a special situation. We've picked up a few tricks - both Piper and I have been in places like this before - and we decided it was time to take advantage of that. If we couldn't come to you, we'd find an out-of-the-way place to meet you halfway."

Phoebe half-expected that to be the others' cue to enter through the mist, but it remained just the two of them. She began, "But Piper and Paige..."

"It had to be just me. The timelines are getting kind of tangled. But, unlike them, I haven't been around to get tangled up in it."

"So, all this stuff I'm experiencing now, for Piper and Paige and, well, future me - do we remember Chris and Wyatt being in the past?"

"Mostly not. But all three of you get flashes of something different. Sometimes, even I do. Like things are shifting, like new possibilities are just below the surface. This is good. This means there's still a chance."

"A chance for Chris's original idea? To save Wyatt from turning - hey, how did I just do that?"

"Do what?"

"I'm talking about them. Do genies' wishes not apply here?"

Prue frowned, uncomprehending. "Uh, I don't know. It's not really the land of the living, so..."

"Whatever, I'll take it. Chris came back to the past to keep Wyatt from turning evil in the first place. We can still do that?"

"Maybe."

"Oh, I'm so glad to hear that. Because this plan B of his, I don't think I can do it."

"I don't think you should give up on plan B just yet."

"You know about that?"

"It's all that was in your head when you were reaching out to us."

"Then you know what Chris is asking me to do. And you know I've never used this power before. But I did have a premonition of myself killing someone with it. I burned at the stake for it, and we swore we'd never let that future happen, remember?"

"Do you love him?"

"What?"

"Do you love Wyatt?"

"Yes, of course I do. He's still my nephew."

"Then you won't kill him."

"But I'm scared of him. And even if I can do this, how can it make a difference? When he's not shutting me out, I can feel his emotions, and ... oh, Prue, he's so unhappy. Tormented. I'm overwhelmed by it, and then I bring my own fear into it? We'll both drown. I love him, I do, but-"

"I can't promise you this will save him. I wish I could. But I can promise you that if you love him - because you love him - you won't kill him. Your power doesn't work that way. Do you think you'd have Piper's blessing if it did? But you do have her blessing, and Paige's, and mine. Forget what you saw in that premonition - you know that future didn't happen. You wouldn't have been given this power if it couldn't be used for good."

"But I haven't been given it. Not yet."

"You've already got the empathy power, and that means you've got it in you. I'm here to help you find it."

"Not that it's not completely amazing to see you," Phoebe said, giving Prue another hug to emphasize the words, "but wouldn't the older me, the one who's supposedly used this power for good - wouldn't she have been the best person for the job?"

"She gave me some tips. But according to her, her big sister is the best person for the job."

Phoebe couldn't help but smile at Prue's expression, so familiar, so long missed, at once affectionate and just a little bit self-satisfied.

"Okay," Phoebe said. "Who am I to argue with myself?"

Cole and Chris waited. They raided the refrigerator and ate, saving some food for Phoebe. Cole wandered the rooms some more, this time with Chris, who recognized various objects from the Manor and Magic School - and other places. He pointed out one athame in particular: "Of course, he'd still have that. He showed it to me when we were kids. Stole it right from under the Elders' noses, and he was only ... eleven? twelve?"

Neither of them tried to sleep. Chris said he hadn't slept the night before, and it looked like this night would be no different.

Cole wondered if Phoebe had fallen asleep. Could someone really meditate for this long?

At last, she reappeared. She found them where they had settled on the second floor, in a landing that opened up into a seating area with more comfortable chairs than in the front room below. Chris had curled up with some old grimoire he had pulled from a shelf, while Cole had taken a spot by the balcony, keeping an eye on the entrance below.

"Okay," Phoebe said, announcing her presence and jolting them out of their private thoughts, "I'm ready to do this."

"Good meditation?" Chris asked.

"Best ever. I conjured myself a little pep talk. She believes I can do it so-"

"She?"

Phoebe patted Chris's arm, but didn't explain. "I definitely feel a little less worried that I could kill-" She pressed her lips together, unable to continue. "Great, can't say that name anymore." She raised her eyes to the ceiling and said, "You couldn't have let me carry that back to the real world?" She waved off Chris's perplexed reaction and continued, "The point is, I'm not as worried that this power is deadly. Apparently it doesn't have to work that way."

"That's what I was telling you," Chris said.

Phoebe glanced over at Cole as he stood up from his chair, before she said to Chris, "To get back, we're going to need candles."

Chris took the hint. "There's got to be candles in this place somewhere. I'll go dig some up."

"Enough to make a circle," she called after him as he headed upstairs.

"There's food down in the kitchen if you want any," Cole said.

"That's okay. I ate dinner so late it was almost breakfast. And breakfast wasn't that long ago for me." She put fingers to her temples. "Getting that time travel headache again."

"And you're too nervous to eat."

"Yes," she admitted. "I understand now that this power doesn't have to be a weapon, but I'm still working on not being afraid." Phoebe evidently caught something in his eyes, because she said, "I get the feeling that's what you would want, for it to go wrong, that I might kill-."

"No, Phoebe, if only because of what it would do to you. But don't expect me to feel much concern over Wyatt's welfare. Not after he- not after everything that's happened. Tell me, how did Piper and Leo manage to screw up this badly?"

"I don't have an answer. But if some evil got to..." She trailed off. Cole knew she could read his skepticism, and she couldn't complete the thought anyway, so she shook her head and just said, "Whatever went wrong, I haven't seen it yet. And apparently I won't see it, at least not this far into the future - where I'm dead and you're alive."

"And your nephew's responsible on both counts." When her eyes got big at that reveal, Cole added, "Don't tell Chris I told you that."

"I can't."

"Something else he's responsible for."

"Are you trying to get me to give up?"

"I'm trying to remind you to not let your expectations get too high. You've been through this before. You should know better. Both you and Chris. Do you know that Wyatt killed Chris's fiancée yesterday? Chris called me to come cremate her body."

"Bianca?"

"So you know about her. She's dead, and he still won't give up."

Phoebe turned away, toward the windows that looked out over the ocean.

Cole followed her and said more gently, "If Chris gets Wyatt back here, where he belongs and out of your time, you should have years of a good life before the world gets like this. You could live that life, enjoy it, and let us deal with whatever happens here and now. You deserve that much."

"I can't let it go, and just do nothing. I can't give up either. Not this time. Not while there's still a chance."

"Must have been one hell of a pep talk."

"It was. But it's not just that. On a day when I most needed a reminder that people can change, I got living proof."" Phoebe regarded him for a moment, and then said with a smile that was almost gentle, "I have a message for you. Prue says hello. And she says she'll see you around."

"Prue? That's not really encouraging. She's dead."

"And so am I, so are you, but here we are. I don't know what she meant. She didn't know what she meant - it was just a sense she got. She thinks this future could still change. That there's still a chance.

"Right. I wasn't buying that Chris has given up on his original plan, and I see you haven't either. Do you even know what you're supposed to change?"

"Not yet."

Could it happen? Cole didn't believe it, but still ... If he was going to be Phoebe's source of hope here, however unlikely that was, he might as well go all out.

"Look," he said, "suppose you manage to pull it off. You've saved the future, you're certain Wyatt won't turn evil this time. Do me a favor. Don't try to save me."

"Save you?"

"I'm only here today because Wyatt pulled me from the cosmic void. If he doesn't go the evil overlord route, he's got no reason to do that, and I could be stuck there forever. That was probably my destiny all along, and I had accepted my fate. But Chris might not agree. He might try to leave Wyatt's summoning spell with you. Don't use it."

"Maybe getting pulled back here was part of your fate, too."

"Maybe. But that happened years after where - when - you are now. I need that time."

"Time for what?"

"Time to get some things done - with the help of a friend who's going to need my help himself. I don't want to leave him in the lurch. And maybe, in a better world, he and I can make a lasting difference this time around."

"And how long will this take?"

"Five years should be more than enough. Unless," he added, "Prue comes and gets me first."

"What about Prue?" Chris said as he descended the stairs, arms laden with mismatched candles and a lighter.

"She gives a good pep talk," Phoebe announced as she relieved him of the candles.

Chris gave one of his rare, quick grins, and with a flick of his hand, shoved aside a chair to create an open space for Phoebe's circle. "You're talking to the nephew who has the same power as hers. When I was a kid, I got coaching once."

Someday in the past, the future ... it'll be my turn? Cole wondered as he watched Phoebe place and then light the candles. Prue, of all people. Then again, while Phoebe had delivered Prue's message like it was a friendly greeting, Cole wasn't so sure he should take it that way. This was Prue, after all. They had never been the best of friends.

It was still dark outside, and lights inside dimmed, but Phoebe's candles cast a warm glow.

"Time to go," she said to Chris.

He stepped into the circle of candles, but Phoebe walked up to Cole and took his hands in hers. "Thank you for looking after..."

"Chris? He needs looking after."

She chuckled. "Don't I know it."

"Hey!" Chris protested. "Who's the one who-"

"Shush," she said.

Chris did stop talking, but only to make a more nonverbal expression of affront.

Phoebe ignored it as she let go of Cole's hands and pulled a sheet of paper from her pocket. She joined Chris in the circle and said, "Keep hold of me."

Chris took Phoebe's arm, and said to Cole, "See you soon. If not - thanks for everything."

Cole nodded and stepped back. He met Phoebe's eyes, one last time, before she held up the paper and read:

Magic that took me to this place

And helped me find a trusted face,

Now it is time to take me home,

Voiceless no more and not alone.

A whirl of lights, and they were gone. Cole, in the silence of this vast dark place, knelt to extinguish the candles.

Author's note, #2: As some readers might recognize here, I'm borrowing some bits from the "Season 9" Charmed comics. If you haven't read them, don't worry - they don't play a major part in this fic, and you definitely won't need to have read them to follow the plot.