2026 cont.
"This is a San Francisco news update, I'm Pam Grimshaw. The crisis within our city is increasing to vindictive standards. Factories have been taken over by Gremlins and there are fears that due to contamination the food supply to our fair city will be restricted to out of state deliveries only. Unfortunately there won't be enough food to supply city residents with adequate nourishment leading to talk of starvation and malnutrition. It is indeed starting to look like a bleak thanksgiving for San Francisco.
"Constructions companies are finding it near impossible to keep to production schedules as buildings continue to be brought down at an alarming rate. Because of both these incidents there have been hefty price rises in the subsequent industries leading to many families struggling to support themselves and their children. Debt it becoming frighteningly high and many people are fleeing the city fearing there is much worse to come. The number of people leaving is so great there are currently traffic jams across all bridge exits which have been hindered further by accidents caused by reckless driving from terrified citizens. We'll update you further on the situation during our news broadcast in an hour."
Chris stared worriedly at the television screen inside the appliance store he and Bianca had wandered into. He gripped Bianca's hand tighter and she looked up at him with the same concern on her face.
"We don't have long, do we?" she questioned.
"No."
"We need the book."
"Should I add breaking and entering to today's agenda?"
"No," Bianca said, smiling. "You know that's impossible. He barred the boundary from magic. Plus with all those probes around…"
"It's too dangerous," Chris finished.
"Exactly."
Bianca moved out of the store, Chris following her through the doorway and down the street. The place was almost empty, the buildings fading into filth and decay as they struggled to stay upright in a period of deprivation.
"It's so quiet now," Bianca observed.
"I'm surprised anything's still open," Chris commented.
"This isn't exactly working towards his plan."
"My brother has a predilection for destruction."
"Your brother has a predilection for corroboration," Bianca said, turning to look at him. "Don't look so innocent, Chris. I know you follow the 'means to an end' rule as well. You follow through on your ideas and beliefs exactly like he does, just not on as grand a scale."
"I…" Chris began. Looking over her shoulder, he smiled. They'd stopped in front of a jewellery store. "Pick something."
Bianca looked uncertainly behind her before returning her gaze to him. "Why?"
"Because I promised you a proposal as soon as this is over. With how severe it's getting, no doubt that's soon. We are going to do something about it, right?"
Bianca backed towards the window, her eyes quickly glancing over the display. Inattentively she waved her hand at something.
"C'mon, you can do better than that," he said, stepping towards her and putting his arms around her waist.
"You can't afford it," she protested, looking up at him.
"I've saved something… a little," he stammered, knowing she could see he was lying. He'd never been able to retain much money. He'd always overspent so much he had to keep crawling to his relatives for loans, but without them around and bills piling up on the table, he was struggling just as much as the rest of San Francisco. "Let's go inside. Surely we can find something special enough for you."
"Welcome," the clerk said, instantly jumping to his feet when he saw them. "You must be brave kids walking through the streets without weapons these days."
Bianca bowed her head quickly trying to hide an amused smile. Chris stepped forward, easily brushing off the comment, his attention solely focused on what he intended to do.
"Yeah, well, I've already seen the worst. It can't scare me anymore. Do you have some rings we could look at?"
"Sure," the clerk said, pulling out a key and opening up a cabinet, moving a display case towards them. "Special occasion?"
"We're getting married," Chris said, pulling Bianca closer to him. Looking down at her, he smirked. "Well… that's if she says yes."
"We've got plenty of beautiful engagement rings here. I'm sure you'll find something to sway her."
"Go on," Chris encouraged, nudging her with his hip.
Pulling away from Chris, Bianca peered down at the display. It seemed like such a huge step to get married. Glancing back at him, she smiled, at least trying to convince him if not herself that this is what she wanted. She did love him, she could admit that, but she was starting to feel like there would never be another day happy and peaceful enough to enjoy such nuptials. Combing her hair behind her ear, she tapped the glass.
"What about that one?" she asked, looking at the simple yet elegant piece.
"I like that one," Chris agreed, lifting himself onto his toes as he looked over her shoulder at it. The clerk pulled out the ring, showing Chris the price tag. Instantly he chuckled. "I really like that one."
Bianca laughed at him. Tenderly his hand brushed her shoulder, moving up her neck until he pulled her head towards him and kissed her joyously.
"Can I try it on?" Bianca asked, looking back to the clerk. Taking it from his hands as he nodded, she slipped it over the knuckle of her ring finger. It was a perfect fit.
"See, it's meant for you," the clerk said encouragingly.
"We'll take it," Chris said, fumbling in his back pocket for his wallet, his fingers fastening around the leather casing as he slid it out. Opening it up, he looked grimly at the contents inside before pulling out every note he had, laying them meticulously on the counter.
"Thank you very much, sir," the clerk said, pleased.
Bianca pulled the ring from her finger. It slipped from her grasp as she felt the floor tremor, clattering to the ground and rolling under the ridge of the counter's base.
"Did you feel that?" she asked.
"What?" Chris queried, flipping closed his wallet and pushing it back into his pocket.
"The floor moved."
"I didn't feel anything," Chris said.
Bianca's eyes skimmed the ground as she felt it vibrate once more. Chris looked from her to the ground, spotting the fallen ring.
"There it is again," she said.
There was so much concentration on her face. Chris couldn't understand what she was picking up that he wasn't. Surprisingly unfazed, he found himself more worried about losing the ring that he'd just paid a fortune for. He crouched down, a smile crossing his face as he did so, looking up at her with mild amusement.
"What are you trying to say? Someone's going to burrow in here and attack us from below?" he jested.
"That's not funny."
Reaching for the ring, he scooped it into his hand, watching as she drifted away towards the window. Outside a fire hydrant burst, water spurting up and falling around it like an umbrella shaped fountain as Bianca jumped back in surprise. Although she was in no danger from the volatile hydrant, a few steps closer to the glass showed her more than just that was happening outside. Sewerage gurgled and spilled up over the gutters from the drains in murky, watery masses. Similar liquid material began to rush down front stoops of nearby apartments, cascading down the stairs like white water rapids. Cracks like those appearing on an aged and weary face began to form in the pavement, widening and splitting into disjointed forms. Cars shook on the street, setting off a chorus of shrieking alarms across the neighbourhood.
"What's going on?" Bianca asked uncertainly.
"It's an earthquake!" the clerk shrieked, dashing for the back room.
"It's Wyatt," Chris corrected, standing. He felt a sprinkle of dust fall over his shoulders. Glancing up he saw the roof was starting to fall in. "Ceiling!"
With a wave of his hand, he sent the loose fragment of plaster behind the counter, away from the path it had taken towards the clerk's head. The clerk disappeared into the back room, slamming the door, Chris' magical rescue going unnoticed.
He looked over at Bianca. She stood, terrified, watching through the window as the world fell in on itself outside. Chris noticed minor cracks developing in the glass, spreading slowly upwards. It was beginning to fragment, Bianca directly in its path.
"Bianca!" Chris shouted.
He rushed forward, grabbing hold of her and moving her into the doorway. The building shook and lurched, Chris trying desperately to hold onto the doorframe and keep Bianca pinned between his arms. Jolting forward, Bianca knocked Chris away from his hold. Quickly trying to rectify the situation she grabbed the doorframe with one hand and Chris' shirt with the other, pulling him back towards her. She looked worriedly up towards him, hoping he was okay. Resuming the position of his hands, she became assured that he was. The idle thought struck her that this was not what they should be doing in such close proximity.
From the corner of her eye she saw something flying towards them. She curled herself into Chris' chest, hearing but not seeing his valiant efforts to keep them unharmed as he telekinetically batted things away. It probably wasn't as effective as Wyatt's shield, but it was the best protection she had on offer at the moment. Neither she nor Chris could transport themselves out of harm's way when the entire city was being affected – they had nowhere they could go.
"Rafter!" Chris shouted, seeing the large piece of wood swing down towards them. Redirecting its path, Chris covered Bianca as much as he could while she cringed at the sound of shattering glass. "Shit."
"What?" Bianca asked quickly, looking up.
"We're gonna be stuck in the middle of a series of dilapidated buildings pretty soon."
"Chris, what the hell's going on?" she questioned anxiously. Chris batted away more debris as it floated towards them, this strike more furious than the others.
"He's fucking insane, that's what's going on."
"No."
"Yes! Bianca…"
"San Francisco gets hit by earthquakes all the time… but never this bad."
"No doubt he's magnified it."
"How?" Bianca asked.
Chris stared at her before finally looking away. He had no answer. Again he was thrown off balance, the volume of noise above him signifying everything was about to cave as he'd predicted. Grabbing Bianca, he pulled her down with him, holding onto her tightly as everything came down around them in a great crescendo. The shaking stopped; silence and dust beginning to settle around them. Bianca coughed, Chris pulling back and rubbing his hand across his head.
"You okay?" he asked worriedly.
"Yeah. You've got…" Bianca started, smiling as she saw the dirt he'd smudged onto his forehead. Licking her thumb, she lifted it to the mark and tried to rub it away. "Better."
"Thanks."
"I have to go back, Chris."
"Why? Because he went destructo-crazy?"
Shaking her head, she stood, looking at the mess around them. Wires swung idly from the rooves of what remained standing.
"Take me home," she said.
Standing, Chris looked at her, pondering which exact home she meant. Opting for her latest residence, he orbed them both down to the Underworld.
"Dammit!" Chris cried.
Bianca looked at the rubble that sealed off their little cavern. As she'd suspected, the place was in ruins, no longer inhabitable. Chris brushed his fingers along the fault lines in the wall.
"Looks like it started here," he observed.
"I can't help but think if I'd never left, if we'd never come here, this might not have happened. That quake was so high it would have killed people, and it'd all be our fault."
"It's Wyatt's fault. He did this, not us."
"And if we changed him? Before all this… none of it would happen."
"What do you expect me to do?"
"Go back. I'll go to Wyatt, get back his trust. We can get the book and go from there," Bianca said. Chris lifted his hand, rubbing his forehead as if he were getting a headache from it all. "Can we go to your place to sleep?"
"Sure," Chris said, peeking out from behind his hand. "If it's still standing."
"I won't go til tomorrow. It's Thanksgiving. He might give the security some down-time."
Chris dropped his hand, reaching out towards her. She took hold of his hand, letting him orb them out. His apartment, thankfully, still remained standing, although the rest of the city faired poorly. She spent the rest of the night curled up against him, listening to sirens echo outside as various emergency crews tried to do what they could to help in the aftermath.
"It looks so bleak," Bianca observed.
Standing in the memorial garden in Golden Gate Park they had a good view of half the city. She thought the destruction she and Wyatt had caused was bad, this was much worse. Despite the crumbled mass of buildings, commercials still flashed onto the large outside screen promoting a more cheerful life than San Francisco had been given. Planes flew overhead, looking for survivors underneath the rubble. To the left stood the Golden Gate Bridge – or what remained of it. Vacated of traffic, some of which were probably plunged into the ocean, it hardly looked like a stand out feature at all. The suspension cables had snapped, hanging from the holdings like dead strings of seaweed. The road itself was fractured and falling away.
"Welcome to the new world," Chris said sarcastically.
"Look at the bridge," Bianca said morosely. "I've never even crossed it. Now I won't be able to."
Walking up behind her, Chris gently rubbed her shoulders. "You will. When I fix this, I promise you that you will."
Bianca turned to look at him. "So you're going to do it?"
"Yes. Only because it's the last resort."
Reaching up to his head, she pulled him down towards her and kissed him. So long as she could do her part, then he would be able to finish this for good.
"I won't let you down," she said.
"No, don't promise that." Chris shook his head. "Just don't let yourself down."
She gave him a satisfied smile before shimmering out. Reappearing in Wyatt's apartment, she found the place empty. Thinking this task was going to be much easier than she thought, she headed straight for the bedroom. Looking quickly through the cabinet she found the book was not there. Turning towards his bed, she lifted the sheets and peered under. All she found were stray pairs of shoes and a pile of old books, none of which were large enough to be the Book of Shadows. With careful precision, she turned her search towards the drawers replacing everything exactly as it had been. Still no result. She had no choice but to find him. Despondent, she glanced up to the sword that lay at the head of his bed. She remembered that day, the day he'd reclaimed it, remembered him talking about his mother. With that piece of information in mind, she noted that there was no weaponry missing. Presuming he was not out fighting, she concluded that he must be at the manor.
She shimmered to the front door knowing she couldn't go directly inside the two story house because of the magical block. As expected, the door was firmly closed and locked. Removing the bobby pin from her hair, she leant down and began to pick the lock, grateful to have acquired the skill across the years. With a satisfactory click the door unlocked, Bianca pushing it inwards and gently closing it behind her. Walking forward she glanced around but could see no sign of him. Looking up to the roof, she heard a noise above. It wasn't a friendly one. She shimmered up to the attic, cautiously directing her reappearance to be close to the walls.
Wyatt sat cross-legged in the centre of five white candles, the book perched on his knees. A mixture of smells floated through the air, the most prominent being sage.
"Hear these words, hear my cry, spirit from the other side. Come to me, I summon thee. Cross now the Great Divide." Wyatt looked up and around, grimacing when he saw the desired result was not produced. Looking back down at the book he continued with the extended part of the spell used directly for séances. "Beloved spirit, Piper Halliwell. We seek your guidance. We ask that you commune with us and move among us."
Lifting his eyes hesitantly from the page, he closed them tightly to shut away the tears that threatened to come when he saw the spell had not worked. One simple spell and he couldn't even do it. He was falling apart. All he wanted was to see his mother again, to go back to where this all started, to hear her tell him everything was alright, that she forgave him for his part in her death.
He looked back down at the spell in the book before him. Again he repeated it, and still it did not work. He knew sitting here all night saying it over and over was not going to make his mother appear. Reviewing the last part of the spell, he noted that the secondary section was pluralised.
"Great, not only do I need my damn brother to cast a spell, the one I want done is a fucking group effort," he complained.
Slamming the book closed in his hands, he cast it across the room in frustration. Lifting his hand, he flicked his fingers at the candle before him, sending it exploding in large white chunks across the floor. Clenching his fists, he looked up as he heard someone shimmer in.
Bianca surveyed the scene before her. Turning to the bookshelf behind her, she picked up one of the candles and walked towards him, lowering it to the fifth point on the pentagram and glancing up at him with a warm smile.
"I think you're missing one," she said kindly. Wyatt's gaze directionally shifted from her to the mess he'd made on the floor. Following it and surmising what had happened, she straightened. "Oh."
Nervously she combed her hair behind her ear, looking towards him, wondering exactly what kind of reaction he was going to give her after what had happened. She expected him to attack but he didn't, just remained seated before her, watching her studiously. The silence made her feel uncomfortable and awkwardly she folded her arms until he looked away, turning his attention to the candles which he proceeded to blow out.
"What are you doing here, Bianca?" he questioned. "It's thanksgiving. We're closed."
"I didn't come to see the manor. I came to see you."
"I thought you didn't want anything to do with me anymore."
"I was wrong. I realise that now."
Wyatt looked up to her, shaking his head and laughing bitterly. "You're just afraid of me like the rest of them."
"No," Bianca insisted. Stepping into the circle, she crouched down before him. "I believe in you. I've always believed in you."
"What about your little dalliance with Chris?"
Wetting her lips, Bianca looked away, her gaze slowly returning to him. "Well, you wanted him on your side. I had to seduce him to do so. He was never going to trust you otherwise."
"Why didn't you tell me?" Wyatt asked. "Why did you run away with him?"
"I needed him to trust me. That wasn't going to happen if he was suspicious of you. And you surely weren't going to act like yourself if I did tell you the plan."
"I don't like being double-crossed. You should have kept me informed," he said angrily.
Bianca diverted her eyes from his. She didn't want him to see that she knew what he had been secretly planning, that she was hurt and angry that he would even attempt such a thing. She couldn't let this venture into a fight. She needed this to go as peacefully as possible.
"In future I will," she promised. It was a bitter lie, but right now she would say anything to win back his favour.
Wyatt watched her carefully, his annoyance giving way to mild sympathy. He knew the torment of living without forgiveness. He couldn't make her endure the same. Yet he still wasn't clear as to why she'd come back.
"What do you want Bianca?" he asked.
"I want my old life back," Bianca said, the words grating on her soul as she said them. She hated herself for giving him permission to hand her away to the Phoenix, even if he only suspected she had meant working for him.
"I can't give you that," Wyatt said. She looked at him quizzically. "Unless… you promise to do a few things for me, and keep your word."
"What things?" she asked uneasily.
"You do what I tell you. And no more running away."
"Okay," she agreed hesitantly.
"You keep me informed of everything that's going on. Don't think I won't have you watched."
"That's a little invasive," she pointed out.
"That's being cautious. You don't expect me to welcome you back with open arms, do you?"
"I guess not," she admitted.
"No more fighting me. I don't want to see you picking apart my cronies either."
She lifted her gaze to his, wondering where this demand had come from. It was a sizeable part of their history, a part that had also inevitably led her to Chris. She wondered exactly what his expectations of her were if he was going to restrict everything she did. Most of it she could work out to be an easy excuse for her not to argue when he handed her over to the Phoenix, but it didn't all add up.
"I'll try," she said.
"You'll do better than 'try'. You will comply whether you like it or not. This is a necessity, unless of course you'd prefer to have your own blood stain your skin from the slit across your throat."
Bianca stood quickly. "I didn't come here to be threatened."
"There is so much you don't understand," Wyatt said, rising himself. "But there is one thing you do know about – survival. It's the reason you've come back here."
Bianca stared at him, contemplating how much he really knew about her. He'd known her for so many years, and although she felt she knew him inside out she never realised that perhaps it was the same with him as well in relation to her. But he couldn't possibly know the true reason she was here, he'd never been around when she'd discussed it with Chris. Glancing at the book she saw it still lay on the floor. She could shimmer there and leave with it without having to consent to anything. As she looked back to him she noticed he was now aware of what her intentions were – he couldn't read her mind but he was paying attention to every little thing she did. Perhaps she had given herself away.
Stepping out of the ring of candles, Wyatt walked over to the Book of Shadows and lifted it from the floor, holding it in his arms. He noted her gaze drop from his to the book.
"They're my terms," he continued. "You can either abide by them or not. This is your current reality. I know you're smart enough to choose the right option. You know I can make life very hard for you otherwise."
"Alright," she agreed. "Are you going to keep up this maximum security thing?"
"As long as I need to," Wyatt said. "But I'm feeling generous. Call it the festive spirit. I'll give you three days to sort yourself out. After that you'll be entirely in my care."
Her eyes fell again to the book in his hands as she tried to turn the conversation away from herself. "What spell were you trying to cast?"
"That's not really your concern," he answered. Holding the book out in front of him, he looked down at the cover and orbed it away.
"You don't have to keep hiding that from me," Bianca said. Wyatt lifted his eyes, looking at her distrustfully. "Why here? Why not cast it from your apartment?"
"Because this place is at the centre of a vast spiritual nexus. The greatest of all powers can be produced here, whether for good or evil. It cannot differentiate, only radiate. If something is to work effectively or at all, the best result will come from casting it here. Unfortunately it didn't give me the desired outcome. Apparently not everything can be done alone."
Bianca was thrilled to realise what she and Chris had been discussing could actually happen. All they needed to do was get the book. If they cast the spell here he would be able to go back, protect his family and save Wyatt. Despite not asking for their assistance, Wyatt had in fact given them all the answers they needed to help him. But she'd have to be cautious or their plan would fall apart. They had three days to get organised, to figure out what they were going to do. After that she'd be treading on thin ice.
"Thank you," she said.
"For what?" Wyatt asked.
"For letting me help you."