Disclaimer: Charmed is the property of Brad Kern and whoever else, just not me! Tomika is mine, though. clutches possessively at her demon gopher

Oookaay, here's the next chapter in this thrilling story. I'm sure you're overjoyed. If anyone's here at all. Anyone? crickets chirping Well, at least my loyal contingent of crickets won't leave me! cricket chirping ceases Fine. Be that way.

You know the drill, read and review. It will make me insanely happy, and will get you a cookie (they're delicious). Pleeeeaase review.


Thursday sighed heavily and turned away, ignoring Tomika's penetrating stare. She had only taken two steps before the gopher appeared in front of her, blocking her path firmly.

"What are you going to do?" He growled, a faint note of accusation present in his voice.

Thursday threw her hands up in exasperation. "There's nothing I can do, Tomika! What am I supposed to do, go over and talk? What am I going to say? 'It must really suck that your soul-mate, the love of your life, finally killed you once and for all. Tough luck'?"

"I believe the correct term is to "vanquish." The gopher corrected mildly.

"Whatever! The point is, he has nothing! No one! Why shouldn't he be depressed?!"

"It's more than that and you know it," Tomika rumbled "He's going to become dangerous. Or have you forgotten that he still has some powers here?"

Thursday groaned and rubbed the bridge of her nose fiercely. "No, I haven't forgotten," she snapped "but what am I supposed to do? Throw him out?" She gestured at the oak door, behind which the blizzard still raged on.

"No. Talk to him. Help him."

"He won't listen to me. He's too proud and stubborn. That's part of what got him killed in the first place. Well, that and going insane," Thursday amended.

"Try." Tomika stared at her unmercifully, brooking no argument.

Thursday hesitated, biting her lip and avoiding Tomika's gaze. "All right," she muttered, resigned. "I'll try." She glared at the gopher warningly. "But it's not going to work."

Cole Turner stared into the whiskey glass, watching the amber liquid swirl slowly, forming a sheen on the clear surface. He finished off the remaining amount and started to pour another glass, only to discover the bottle was empty. He let it fall to the floor with a dull thunk. He stared at the glass for a moment, cradling it in his hand, examining the way the firelight danced in the smooth surface. Anger surged and he threw the glass against the wall viciously, with a snapping wrist motion that looked almost casual. It shattered loudly, littering the rug with glass shards.

Cole hardly noticed. He stared at his hand expressionlessly with the care of someone extremely drunk. He slowly formed an energy ball, holding it close to his face, singing his eyebrows with its heat.

"Hey!" Cole twisted sharply to face the voice, cradling the deadly orb in his hand. The figure took a hasty step back. "Uh, you should put that down, mister," she offered, a noticeable quiver in her voice. Cole merely continued to glare. He couldn't quite make out her face from that distance; the shadows and the whiskey were blurring his vision.

Seemingly encouraged by the fact that he wasn't attacking her yet, the girl stepped slightly closer. Her face became clearer and Cole noted that she had her hands slightly raised in a defensive position. Like that's going to help, he snarked to himself. Her eyes were fixed on the energy ball hovering in his palm.

"So," she continued unsteadily as she sidestepped cautiously closer, "are you gonna put it out or what?" She yelped and ducked, narrowly avoiding the sizzling orb of destruction as it whizzed past her ear. It spattered against the wall behind her, singing the panels.

Cole easily summoned another one. "Or what," he drawled menacingly, vaguely disgusted by her obvious fear. She started to back away, and then stopped, biting her lip nervously. She stared at his face for a long moment, and seemed to find something there that strengthened her resolve. Cole snarled and made a half lunge, hoping to scare her off, but it didn't have the intended effect that time. Her fear seemed to have dissolved, and she quickly strode forward and sat down in the chair next to him. Cole just gaped at her, too surprised and drunk to react.

The girl had completely recovered her confidence by then, and adopted a strangely businesslike attitude. "Right then," she said briskly, "My name's Thursday, and I own this place." She stuck out her hand and grinned cheekily, ruining the somber effect.

Cole let the energy ball extinguish in his hand and slumped back in the chair, exhausted. "Go away." He growled at the girl, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Why won't you leave me alone?

She shook her head firmly. "No can do, Cole. This situation has to stop." She leaned back quickly as Cole surged upright, eyes blazing.

"How do you know my name? Who are you?" he demanded angrily, the energy ball reappearing and hovering dangerously close to Thursday. She shied away from the heat, but remained infuriatingly calm. "Tell me," Cole ground out, trying to provoke the fear from before, "Who sent you?"

"No one sent me." Thursday quietly replied, ignoring the danger and watching Cole's face intently. "I own this place, remember? You came here."

Cole felt a surge of frustration, and he nearly threw the energy ball right there. "What is this place? Where am I?" His hand shook slightly and he had a slightly crazed look in his eyes.

Thursday suddenly looked wary at these new questions. "You...don't remember?" This is not good. Doesn't he know why he's here?

"Remember what?"

Thursday eyed all possible escape routes, keenly aware of the highly unstable and drunk half-demon glowering at her. Oh, he's not gonna like this. She cringed internally and readied herself for a somersault out of the armchair. She was sure that Cole wouldn't normally attack an innocent, but that was when he was himself and sober. This was a different matter entirely. A million different responses flashed through her mind, including lying or denying all knowledge. Thursday settled on telling him the hard truth. There was no way to break it to him gently. She took a deep breath and steeled herself.

"Cole, Phoebe kill—vanquished you again." She saw a light of recognition in his eyes and knew that he remembered that, at least. She held up a hand to forestall his response, determined to finish what she had to say. "I know you've been vanquished before, but this is different. You can't go back to her. It's over."

Cole sat back in disbelief as the energy ball faded away, his hand limp. He stared at Thursday dully, all fire gone. Thursday was struck by how tired he looked then, weighed down and hopeless. "I don't believe you," he muttered finally, but his voice lacked conviction.

Thursday gestured at their surroundings, her voice gentle. "Look around you. This isn't the Wasteland. There are no demons falling from the sky." Her voice hardened slightly. "And you can't get back to your life."

Cole seemed to snap to attention at that. "If that's true, then why do I still have my powers?" He challenged, a hint of belligerence showing through the apathy.

Thursday shrugged. "They're a part of who you are. You'll notice that now you only have the powers you were born with. Those nifty Avatar powers are long gone." She shifted uncomfortably. "You really don't know why you're here?"

Cole smiled mirthlessly, his empty eyes making her shiver. "Besides the fact that I'm dead? No." He leaned forward casually, completely at ease. "So why don't you tell me?"

Thursday eased back slightly, unnerved by his Cole's sudden change in mood. "Um...well," she stuttered, off balance, "you're here because, you are a...special case." She nervously checked for Cole's reaction, to which he merely raised an eyebrow. Thursday fidgeted and continued. "Your...ah, history and unique heritage means that the transition may be a little more difficult than most people's."

Cole interrupted sharply. "The transition to being dead."

"Right." Thursday was starting to warm to the subject. "Since you've already been vanquished once before, you're less likely to accept being dead this time around." Cole said nothing, which Thursday took as a signal to continue. "You also have some seriously unfinished business to attend to before you cross over."

"Phoebe." Cole stared into the fire, absorbed in memories.

"Yes, her and...other things." Thursday hesitated as Cole continued to stare, lost in his reverie. "Listen, how about we talk more later? You're still drunk and you should really have a clear head before I tell you any more."

She deftly snatched the empty bottle from the floor and slid out of the chair. "And the bar is officially closed for you, mister." She disappeared into the shadows before Cole could voice a protest.

He considered going after her, but there hardly seemed to be a point. He shifted his gaze back to the hypnotic dance of the fire, remembering Phoebe. Where did it all go wrong? Memories of brighter times played out in front of him, the images dancing in the firelight. Phoebe smiling up at him, her eyes so full of love that nothing else in the world mattered, not even the Source. Phoebe saving him from his inner demon time and again, refusing to give up even when he had forgotten who he was. Why did you give up on me this time? He slipped into unconsciousness with Phoebe's face shining in his mind like a beacon, guiding him home.