Q/A: Randyzoopurple - Sorry Randy, Riley is not being skipped. Even if I wanted to I'm already writing season 5. I would have to go and rewrite everything in season 4 to exclude Riley. So the season 4/5 pairing of Buffy/Riley is still happening. As I posted in my previous Q/A he won't be staying. In fact I have his leaving tied partially into a plot point that involves Buffy herself.

Chapter 73: Exit Strategy

May 3, 1999 – Monday

Restfield Cemetery

One moment Phoebe was alone, lying on the floor of the mausoleum, asleep. The next moment Buffy had appeared in fiery flames with Prue. They had come looking for Phoebe. "Phoebe?" Prue's voice rang out, tinged with a mixture of concern and frustration. "Phoebe, are you in here?" Their eyes darted around the eerie surroundings, seeking any sign of their sister. It was at that moment they saw Phoebe. Prue knelt down next to her younger sister. "Hey, Phoebe, wake up."

Phoebe slowly opened her eyes at the gentle shaking that Prue was giving her. "Cole?" she said, her groggy voice trembling with a hint of desperation.

Buffy, her eyes reflecting empathy, gently intervened, "No, it's just us."

Prue, her heart heavy with worry, added, "Come on, let's go home."

But Phoebe's stubborn determination still clung to her like a protective shield. "No, I have to wait here for Cole," she insisted, her voice filled with a mixture of hope and heartache.

Prue exchanged a meaningful glance with Buffy, their eyes conveying the complex emotions swirling within them. With a resigned sigh, Prue turned back to Phoebe, her voice carrying a touch of gentle insistence. "Phoebe, you can't just wait here, alright. He will know where to find you. Come on."

"I don't understand," Phoebe's voice quivered with uncertainty as she slowly rose to her feet, her emotions a turbulent storm within her. "He was supposed to go back under so that they wouldn't be suspicious of him, but it's been a week."

Buffy, her voice tinged with reassurance, stepped closer to Phoebe, attempting to soothe her fears. "He probably just hasn't found a safe way out yet, that's all."

Phoebe's worry persisted, her eyes filled with apprehension. "But what if he can't? What if the Brotherhood found him out?"

Prue, her expression a mixture of wisdom and determination, offered a comforting perspective. "Look, even if they did, he would put some sort of spin on it to, you know, get out of it. Come on, you know Cole, he knows what he's doing. You don't make demon of the century without having a few tricks up your sleeve."

Tears welled up in Phoebe's eyes as she whispered, "I just hope he's okay."

Buffy extended her hands and Phoebe and Prue instinctively reached out and they vanished in a swirl fiery flames.

Underworld

Cole lay on a large, jagged rock, his face etched with a complex mixture of turmoil and vulnerability. His emotions were laid bare for Raynor and Tarkin to see, a storm raging within his soul.

Raynor held his hand above Cole's head, his touch seemingly delicate despite the dark gravity of their situation. He delved into Cole's thoughts, his expression reflecting a profound sadness as he explored the depths of Cole's inner turmoil.

"Seems our brother's suspicions are well founded," Raynor murmured with a hint of sorrow in his voice, casting a brief glance at Tarkin.

Tarkin, standing tall and imposing, looked down at Cole with a furrowed brow. His skepticism mingled with a touch of concern. "Why?" he inquired, his tone holding a note of trepidation. "What do you see?"

Raynor's response was tinged with empathy as he spoke softly, as if sharing in Cole's pain. "Sickness," he replied, his voice heavy with the weight of their predicament. "The kind that only comes from being under the world of light for too long. It's contaminated him."

"That's impossible, Raynor," Tarkin protested, his disbelief palpable. "A demon as great as Belthazor."

Raynor sighed, a deep, melancholic sound. "It's not his demon half that's been infected, it's his human half," he explained with a hint of regret. "He's in love."

Tarkin's expression shifted to a mix of realization and dread, mirroring the emotional turmoil of the situation. "The witch," he said with a heavy sigh.

Raynor's voice quivered with sadness as he continued, "Not just any witch, one of the Charmed Ones. But she's not only loved him, she's turned him against us, sent him here to destroy us."

Tarkin nodded, his demeanor resigned. "Well, then we must destroy him."

Raynor's gaze fixed on Cole, his eyes filled with a profound sorrow. "You still have so much to learn, Tarkin," he softly admonished. "You don't just kill a demon like Belthazor."

Tarkin's frustration and confusion were evident as he spoke urgently, "But he betrayed us."

Raynor nodded, his gaze never leaving Cole's tortured form. "And in so doing, he's acquired the knowledge of how to kill the Charmed Ones and the Charmed Slayer. Something no other demon's been able to accomplish. That, with his power, makes a very precious commodity for us, one worthy of saving."

Tarkin's uncertainty lingered as he tried to grapple with the moral and emotional complexities of their situation. "But how can...?" he began, his voice trailing off.

Raynor turned to Tarkin, his expression heavy with the weight of their impending decision. "How can we save him?" he asked, his words carrying a profound sadness. "Simple. We remove the only thing that's re-awakened his human half. His only foothold to good. The witch's love for him."

May 4, 1999 – Tuesday

Halliwell Manor

Piper sat at the kitchen table, her face a mix of determination and concentration. She was looking for Leo's birth certificate so that Leo could get a passport so they could go the Europe for their honeymoon. She emptied a box filled with numerous books and papers onto the table, creating a chaotic pile that mirrored her current state of mind. She began sifting through them, her fingers moving with purpose.

"Okay," she muttered under her breath, trying to make sense of the jumbled mess of information.

Leo, holding a French/English dictionary, entered the room with an air of enthusiasm. "Oú est l' tour Eiffel. That is 'Where is the Eiffel Tower?'"

Piper couldn't help but smile at his attempt to speak French. "In my dreams if we don't get you a passport," she quipped, her love for Leo evident in her teasing tone.

Leo, ever the optimist, countered, "Honey, we don't need a passport to honeymoon in Paris. With a blink of an orb, we can be sipping champagne at the Champs Sel Seasay."

Piper's laughter filled the room, a joyful sound that conveyed both her love for Leo and her appreciation for his magical abilities. "Yes," she replied, her voice tinged with affection, "as romantic as you make that sound, I would rather fly Air France than Air Leo. Just like every other normal newlywed."

Leo's expression turned serious as he acknowledged their unique situation. "Well, great, except that we're not."

Piper's eyes sparkled with determination as she seized upon an idea. "Well, a passport for you could change all that, if I could just find... voila! Birth certificate," she announced triumphantly, holding up the document for Leo to see.

Leo's brows furrowed with curiosity and concern. "Where did you get that?"

Piper's response was laced with a hint of mischief. "From Dan's old file, the one he put together when he was suspicious of you. You remember him, don't ya?"

Leo's lips curled into a wry smile as he recalled the past. "Let's see, perfect hair, cleft chin, tried to steal you away from me? Vaguely, vaguely."

He reached for the birth certificate, his fingers brushing against Piper's, and examined it closely. His smile faded as he realized the problem. "This isn't gonna work, I was born in 1924."

Piper, undeterred and resourceful as ever, shook her head and reclaimed the birth certificate. "No, you weren't. Okay, off-white background, black ink... Little trick I learned in high school."

Leo's eyes widened in surprise and a touch of disbelief. "You're gonna forge my birth certificate."

Piper's eyes sparkled with mischief as she applied whiteout to the offending number on Leo's birth certificate. "No. Just going to change one little number," she declared, her voice carrying a hint of daring. The number "2" disappeared beneath the whiteout, and she quickly inscribed a "7" in its place. "So, 1924 becomes 1974. And just like that, you are fifty years younger." She glanced at her handiwork. "Wait a minute, that makes you 25. That's younger than me. Maybe I should change another number."

Leo, torn between amusement and concern, shook his head, his voice holding a note of caution. "Piper, this is completely illegal."

Piper sighed, her shoulders slumping in resignation. "Yeah? Well, so is marrying a dead guy, okay?" She brandished Leo's death certificate for emphasis. "Let's not get technical now."

Just as the atmosphere in the room hung heavy with their moral conundrum, Buffy and Prue entered, their presence adding a new layer of intrigue to the situation.

"Morning. What's up?" Prue inquired, her voice filled with curiosity.

Leo couldn't help but chuckle, though the situation remained serious. "Well, probably three to five years in jail if we're lucky."

Buffy and Prue exchanged puzzled glances, uncertain of the context. "What are you talking about, Dad?" Buffy asked, the confusion evident in her voice.

Piper decided to steer the conversation away from their moral dilemma. "Never mind," she said, her tone lightening. "Were you two out late patrolling?"

Prue shook her head, weariness in her expression. "No, we were looking for Phoebe. Three guesses where she was."

Piper couldn't help but guess with a touch of sarcasm, "Hmm, the mausoleum?"

"Yeah, it's become like her second home," Buffy confirmed.

Leo, his concern for Cole never far from his thoughts, brought up the topic again. "Still no word from Cole?"

Prue's frustration was palpable. "No, and you know what? You would think he could take three lousy seconds just to shimmer and let all of us know that he's okay."

Leo considered the possibilities. "Maybe he can't, maybe he's afraid he'll get caught."

Piper, ever the realist, voiced a darker possibility. "Maybe he already has."

Underworld

"Just follow my lead," Raynor whispered with a mixture of determination and regret, his gaze fixed on Cole. With Tarkin in tow, they walked over to Cole, their every step heavy with the burden of their intentions. Raynor's outstretched hand moved in a graceful arc, and with a wave, he broke the enchantment that held Cole in a magically induced slumber.

As Cole stirred and slowly awoke, a look of confusion and disorientation clouded his eyes. "Raynor," he breathed, his voice filled with a mix of recognition and uncertainty.

Raynor met Cole's gaze, his expression laced with a poignant sadness. "Good to see you're still with us, Belthazor," he said, a sense of longing hidden beneath his words.

Cole's brows furrowed as he tried to piece together the fragments of his memory. "What happened?" he inquired; his voice tinged with concern.

Raynor offered a fragile smile, attempting to mask the truth. "I tried to kill you. Accidentally, of course. I didn't recognize you in your human form, my mistake."

Tarkin's voice joined the conversation, his tone grave and filled with a certain gravity. "Not many are strong enough to survive an energy bolt, Belthazor," he added, a hint of respect underlying his words. "You're lucky."

"Forgive me," Raynor murmured, his voice heavy with the weight of their shared history. He held out his hand as an olive branch, a silent plea for understanding. Cole, his expression filled with mixed emotions, hesitated for a moment before extending his own hand to meet Raynor's.

"How could I not?" Cole replied with a touch of melancholy in his voice. "After all, you taught me everything I know."

Raynor's gaze softened as he acknowledged their deep connection. "Well, not everything," he admitted, a sense of nostalgia coloring his words.

Cole's eyes flickered with curiosity as he sought to piece together the fragments of his memory. "How long was I out?" he wondered aloud.

Raynor's response held a tinge of urgency. "Long enough for us to investigate rumors that you crossed over to the other side," he explained, a sense of purpose underlying his words.

Cole, seeming to brush off the gravity of the situation with a hint of cynicism, strolled over to a nearby water cooler. "Rumors, not reports," he quipped.

Tarkin's voice held a touch of sympathy as he reassured Cole, "Don't worry, we don't blame you for the failed hit last week. Even if you were seduced by one of the witches that thwarted our plan."

Cole, his expression a mix of resignation and defiance, swiped at the beads of water on his neck. "I already explained to you that I was over her."

Tarkin's skepticism remained evident as he pressed the matter, "Yeah, but you didn't explain that she was one of the Charmed Ones."

Raynor, his gaze unwavering, interjected with a sense of acceptance, "It doesn't matter that you're straight, Belthazor, as long as you're back." He leaned in, his eyes locked onto Cole's, the gravity of their next mission weighing on them. "To that end, I have an assignment for you. Something that only your powers can achieve. I need you to get me a magical amulet, one that's hanging from the neck of a witch. Problem?"

Cole hesitated, his thoughts racing as he considered the implications. "Just that it's a little bit risky, don't you think?" he asked cautiously. "Sending me after a witch with the Charmed Ones and the Slayers on my trail?"

Raynor, his determination unwavering, offered a solution with a hint of cunning. "Tarkin will provide backup," he explained, the corner of his lips curling into a sly smile. "That way, if they show up, you can catch them by surprise. That should take care of all our problems now, shouldn't it?"

"Where do I get the amulet?" Cole inquired, his voice tinged with a mix of resolve and concern.

Raynor waved his hand in front of Cole's face, implanting the details directly into Cole's mind. "This shouldn't take long," Raynor assured him.

In the blink of an eye, Cole shimmered out of sight, leaving Tarkin behind, his question lingering in the air. "Think he'll actually get the amulet?"

Raynor's response was cryptic and filled with a subtle sense of anticipation. "Yes, but not before he tells his beloved witch what he's about to do," he explained, his words carrying a hint of intrigue. "Then that should plant the first seed of suspicion in her heart."

Halliwell Manor

Phoebe sat gracefully before her vanity mirror, her reflection capturing a moment of fleeting elegance as she meticulously applied her makeup. Suddenly she spotted something in the mirror behind her. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of Cole's unexpected presence. An earnest plea laced her words as she turned back to Faith, saying, "Promise me when I turn around, you'll still be there."

Phoebe then swiftly pivoted to face Cole, her heart filled with a mix of relief and desire. Without hesitation, she rushed over to him and enveloped him in a passionate kiss, their connection reigniting in that moment.

"I've missed you so much," Cole confessed, their lips parting but their eyes locked in a gaze that conveyed the depth of their longing.

Phoebe's eyes brimmed with emotion as she whispered, "I've missed you so much too."

Cole held Phoebe close, his embrace a mixture of love and trepidation, as he began to share the difficult news with her. "They've given me an assignment," he began, his voice low and filled with uncertainty. "One that if I turn down..."

Phoebe clutched him tightly, her fingers intertwined with his as she stared into his eyes, searching for answers. "What kind of assignment?" Her voice quivered, revealing the conflicting emotions in the depths of her soul.

Cole sighed; his gaze clouded with regret. "I can't tell you," he admitted, fully aware that his response would not sit well with Phoebe.

"Wh—" Phoebe was left speechless, her sentence left unfinished as confusion and frustration welled up within her. Why couldn't Cole share the details with her, and what was so important that it needed to be kept a secret?

Sensing Phoebe's distress, Cole gently guided her to the foot of her bed, where they sat side by side. "They've asked me to steal an amulet from a witch," he finally explained, his voice heavy with the weight of the revelation.

"A witch?" Phoebe's frowned, concern for Cole in her eyes.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt her," Cole tried to reassure her, his voice filled with a mix of sincerity and a hint of humor. His small laugh at the end of the statement, however, did little to ease their concerns.

"Well, that's good news, Cole. You can't do this," Phoebe asserted, her voice firm and resolute. The idea of him going through with the assignment was almost inconceivable to her, and her eyes conveyed her disbelief.

"You think I want to, damn it," Cole responded with a hint of frustration, his emotions boiling over as he stood up and paced across the room. "I just have to buy some time so I can figure a way out. In the meantime, I have to at least pretend like I'm evil."

"If you turn into Belthazor, then you will be evil," Phoebe reminded him. "And it will be hard to come back from it."

Cole, his gaze steady and determined, looked at Phoebe. "What makes you think I'll have to?" he asked, his words hanging heavily in the air.

"An amulet protects. It takes someone with great strength to overcome that. Why do you think they chose you?" Phoebe inquired as she rose from the bed, her curiosity and concern driving her to seek answers.

Cole pondered her question, realizing the implications of his involvement in this mission. "To set me up perhaps. Raynor may be onto me," he mused. He returned to the bed and gazed across the room, lost in thought.

"Who the hell is Raynor?" Phoebe asked; her brows furrowed in confusion.

Cole explained with a heavy sigh, "He's the head of the brotherhood. And my old mentor. He has the power to read thoughts, and if he's read mine..."

Phoebe knelt down beside Cole, her loving touch offering comfort and reassurance. "Prue, Buffy, and I will come with you, and watch your back," she suggested, her voice filled with determination.

But before Phoebe's offer could be fully considered, Cole gently slid her hand away from his face, his eyes locked onto hers. He couldn't risk her getting involved, and his words held a sense of urgency. "No, no, no, you can't. That could be exactly what Raynor's expecting you to do. He could be setting me up to get to you. I have to do this alone," he explained, his determination unwavering.

"Cole, I—" Phoebe began, but before she could finish her sentence, he gently pulled her onto the bed and enveloped her in his arms, silencing her words with a tender kiss.

"Trust me, okay?" Cole implored; his eyes locked onto Phoebe's with unwavering determination. "I know what I am doing. Just concentrate on finishing the potion. If it works, Belthazor will disappear, and Raynor won't be able to track me. Then, we can be together." He leaned in, capturing Phoebe's lips in a passionate kiss.

In the blink of an eye, Cole shimmered out, leaving Phoebe with a mixture of emotions and uncertainty.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

The second Cole shimmered from Phoebe's room; panic shot through the air like an electric shock. Phoebe bolted down the stairs, her hearts racing with the urgency of the situation. "Prue? Buffy?" Her voice trembled with worry, her eyes darting around in search of her sisters.

Hearing Phoebe's frantic calls, Prue and Buffy dashed from the kitchen, their hearts pounding in their chest. "Hey, what's wrong?" Prue's voice held a mixture of concern and apprehension as she assessed her sister.

Phoebe's desperation was palpable as she urgently spoke, "Cole's in trouble, I need your help."

Buffy's determination shone through her response, her voice firm and resolute. "Anything."

Phoebe wasted no time in laying out the dire situation. "We need to scry for a witch, fast," she told her sisters, her tone laced with anxiety.

Prue nodded in agreement, her gaze briefly locking with her sister's. "Alright."

Mystical Moondust Emporium

It took only seconds for Cole to shimmer into the quaint little shop. Standing amidst the store's enchanting wares, he found the witch he sought, busy stocking items on the shelves. Fear coursed through her veins as she frantically scanned the shop, searching for any open escape, but the absence of an exit left her vulnerable. Her trembling voice finally broke the silence, "Who are you? How did you get in here?"

Cole moved with calculated confidence, taking measured steps toward the frightened witch. "Just do exactly as I say, and you won't be hurt. Take off the amulet and put it down," he implored, hoping that she would comply.

The witch, her grip on the amulet unyielding, shook her head adamantly. She was bound by a solemn duty to protect it, and she had no intentions of relinquishing it. "I've been sworn to protect it," she protested, her voice unwavering.

Cole's resolve remained resolute. "And I've been ordered to steal it," he explained, his tone filled with a hint of desperation. As the witch retreated from him, he continued, "Don't fight me. I beg you." He inched closer, reaching for the amulet, but a sudden burst of blue light shot from her hand, throwing him into a stack of boxes.

As Cole rose from the crushed pile of boxes, sweat forming on his forehead, he began to doubt his abilities. "Maybe I can't," he admitted, his frustration and determination intensifying. With an eerie ease, he shifted into his demon form, becoming Belthazor. "But I can," he snarled, revealing his sharp teeth.

Approaching the witch once more, the bright blue light that had repelled him now created a formidable shield around her. As Belthazor, he strained to push his hand through the protective barrier, reaching for the amulet. With a final, determined effort, he seized the amulet, and the shield vanished as if it had never existed. His instincts momentarily took over as he grasped her neck, but he swiftly realized his actions and released her.

"Tell no one about the amulet. Not even your Whitelighter," he cautioned, clutching the amulet tightly in his hand. With his mission accomplished, he shimmered away, leaving the shop shrouded in the aftermath of his presence.

San Francisco Passport Agency

Piper and Leo found themselves standing in line at the passport office, a seemingly mundane task in the midst of their extraordinary lives. Leo was busy filling out the form, pondering his response to the occupation field. He glanced at Piper, a hint of humor in his eyes, and asked, "Whitelighter. Is that my occupation, or should I just put 'guardian angel'?"

An elderly lady waiting in front of them turned around, her expression a mix of curiosity and disbelief. She regarded them as if questioning their sanity.

Piper, always one to be charming, offered a friendly smile to the elderly lady. "Hi, how you doing?" she greeted, attempting to defuse the situation. She looked back at Leo, slightly exasperated. "What's the matter with you?"

Leo, however, was grappling with a sense of unease. "We shouldn't be here, Piper. This is wrong," he reminded her, his voice carrying a weight of morality and responsibility.

Piper sighed, feeling the strain of balancing the extraordinary with the ordinary. "Wanting a normal life is not wrong, okay? In fact, it couldn't be any more right. For crying out loud, stop being so good all the time," she chided, not hiding her frustration. The elderly lady turned to look at them again, and Piper couldn't help but offer a humorous comment. "Ha, newlyweds, first fight. Eyes front."

Leo's sigh conveyed a sense of resignation as the elderly lady turned back around. "Piper…"

Piper's patience was wearing thin as she struggled to maintain a semblance of normalcy in the passport office. She looked at Leo, her frustration evident in her words and the way she pinched the bridge of her nose. "Leo, look, I love you, but I'm getting a migraine here, okay?" She took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. "Just, look, we're not hurting anyone, we're not breaking any commandments, okay? We just changed a lousy two to a lousy seven. So, let go before I blow."

As Piper attempted to soothe her frayed nerves, the line finally moved forward, signaling some progress. "Okay, we're almost there," she muttered, a glimmer of hope in her voice.

However, Leo's response dampened that hope. He heard a call from the Elders, and a sense of dread overcame him. Piper was quick to inquire, "What?" And then the realization dawned upon her. The Elders. "Oh no. No-no-no-no-no, no. You cannot leave right now, okay. Pretend you're, pretend you're out."

Leo, though torn, remained resolute. "I can't do that," he told his wife, the weight of his duty as a Whitelighter weighing on him.

Piper's anger flared as the situation escalated. "Yes, you can. Come on," she urged, her voice rising with frustration.

But Leo's decision was final. "I've got to go," he said, a solemn determination in his voice.

Piper's frustration reached its breaking point as she implored him not to leave at that very moment. "Leo, you can't go right now, okay. We've been in this line for two and a half freaking hours!" The sheer force of her anger inadvertently caused an explosion, shattering a nearby clock, and sending the line's occupants ducking for cover.

Mystical Moondust Emporium

Buffy, Prue and Phoebe reached the locked door of the shop, their collective sense of urgency palpable. "Okay, Buffy," Prue said, her tone laced with determination.

Buffy swiftly assessed the situation, her Slayer instincts on high alert. With a quick flame to the other side of the door, she unlocked it and ushered Prue and Phoebe inside before securing the door behind them.

As they entered, the pungent scent of smoke assaulted their senses, and Phoebe wasted no time in seeking information. "Anything?" she inquired, her voice quivering with concern.

Both Prue and Buffy shook their heads in response, their expressions reflecting a shared sense of bewilderment. "No," they reported, their eyes scanning the room, taking note of the disarray and damage.

Worry crept into Phoebe's voice as she considered the possibility that they had scryed for the wrong witch. "Do you think maybe we scryed for the wrong witch?"

Prue, with her gaze fixed on Buffy, offered a sympathetic understanding. "Believe me," she began, her voice carrying the weight of experience, "we feel for you, Buffy. We were in the same place three years ago."

Phoebe's voice quivered with concern as she posed the grim question, "Do you think she's dead?" It seemed hard to fathom any other possibility when all that remained of the witch was a black scorch mark on the wall.

"I don't think so," Prue answered.

As Buffy noticed burnt curtains and a black scorch mark on the wall, she called out to her sisters, "Guys!"

Prue's response was laden with regret. "Unfortunately, I don't know what else to think." She sighed, her disappointment in their inability to save the witch evident in her demeanor. She couldn't help but wonder if her own distractions, like her involvement with Phoebe's issues, had contributed to their lateness in reaching the location. She mentally shook her head, seeking to push aside those doubts.

"That doesn't make any sense. Cole said she wouldn't get hurt," Phoebe argued, her loyalty to him evident in her words.

Faith, however, presented a harsh reality. "Yeah, well, somebody sure fired an energy ball in here," she stated, her reluctance to accept the situation mirrored in her tone.

"Scorch mark," Phoebe said as her voice quivered with concern. She then posed the grim question, "Do you think she's dead?" It seemed hard to fathom any other possibility when all that remained of the witch was a black scorch mark on the wall.

Prue's response was laden with regret. "Unfortunately, I don't know what else to think." She sighed, her disappointment in their inability to save the witch evident in her demeanor. She couldn't help but wonder if her own distractions, like her involvement with Phoebe's issues, had contributed to their lateness in reaching the location. She mentally shook her head, seeking to push aside those doubts.

"That doesn't make any sense. Cole said she wouldn't get hurt," Phoebe argued, her loyalty to him evident in her words.

Buffy, however, presented a harsh reality. "Yeah, well, somebody sure fired an energy ball in here," she stated, her reluctance to accept the situation mirrored in her tone.

"Somebody like Cole, you mean? I thought you were on my side, Buffy," Phoebe said, her gaze piercing as she directed her frustration toward her younger sister.

Buffy quickly clarified her position, her loyalty to her aunt unwavering. "I am, Phoebe. I'm not saying it was Cole. All I'm saying is what I see, what we all see," she explained. "But if you believe Cole didn't do it, then I believe you."

Prue sided with her sister. "For what it's worth, I don't think Cole did it either," she affirmed, offering her support to Phoebe.

Phoebe's gratitude was palpable. "Thank you," she said, appreciating her sisters' trust in her judgment.

Prue, however, remained pragmatic, her mind searching for answers. "Alright, but if he didn't do it, who did?"

Phoebe considered the possibilities, drawing from Cole's earlier suspicion. "Well, Cole said that he thought he was being set up by his mentor. So maybe he is, maybe they're trying to frame him," she suggested to her eldest sister and niece.

Why?" Buffy inquired, a sense of urgency and concern etched on her face.

Phoebe shook her head, frustration evident in her voice. "I don't know, but if it's true, that means his cover's blown, and we've got to get him out of there," she stated with conviction.

Their conversation was interrupted as Leo orbed in, a surprising presence in their midst. Buffy questioned, "Dad, what are you doing here?" Her hand rested on her hip, her expression a mix of worry and anticipation. If Leo was here, something significant must have occurred, whether related to Cole, the stolen amulet, or Piper's well-being.

Leo didn't mince words as he revealed the grave news. "Looking for the three of you," he admitted. "The Elders called me because a powerful amulet has been stolen."

Buffy nodded in acknowledgment, the pain of losing an innocent weighing heavily on her, even if she didn't know the witch personally. "Yeah, we know," she admitted, her eyes betraying the sorrow she felt.

Leo's curiosity was piqued as he tried to understand how they were already aware of the situation. "You do?" he questioned, his gaze focused on Phoebe, suspecting her premonitory abilities may have played a role.

Prue confirmed their knowledge, her voice laced with sadness as she gestured toward the scorch mark on the wall. "Yes, and the witch that had it has been killed," she explained, leaving no room for doubt.

Leo sighed, taking in the chaotic state of the shop. "It's supposed to protect her; that's why they gave it to her. Only the evilest of demons could have had the power to take it away."

Phoebe, ever the pragmatist, sought more information. "And why would a demon want that amulet so bad?" she inquired.

Leo's response carried a sense of gravity as he unveiled the true significance of the amulet. "Because it's one half of an ancient charm. Whoever connects the two amulets together, more than doubles, it protects your power. With it, they become invincible," he revealed, driving home the dire consequences of this theft.

Buffy's realization brought clarity to the situation. "Oh, that certainly explains why the brotherhood wanted Cole to get it," she commented, connecting the dots regarding Cole's mission and the amulet's significance.

Leo, still slightly confused, sought more context. "Cole?" he asked, clearly missing some vital information.

Phoebe swiftly dismissed his concerns, not wanting to delve into the complexities surrounding Cole at that moment. "Forget it. Who's got the other half?" she inquired, focusing on the matter at hand.

Leo provided the answer. "Another witch. The amulets were divided between two local covens for safekeeping, but the bearers have always been kept secret, guarded even from them."

Buffy sighed, recognizing the gravity of the situation. "Well, obviously that's why the brotherhood wants them both," she surmised.

Leo clarified the brotherhood's nefarious intentions. "Only to destroy them so good could never use them. The amulet won't protect anyone evil," he explained, underscoring the importance of preventing the amulets' union in the wrong hands.

Prue was quick to take the lead, her determination clear. "Alright, we need to find that other witch before they do," she declared, setting the wheels of their plan in motion.

Phoebe agreed with a nod, her focus on her duties clear. "Okay, well, you three go with Piper," she suggested. "So, I can work on Cole's potion."

Buffy's curiosity was piqued as she inquired about Piper's whereabouts. "Yeah. Speaking of, where's Piper?" she asked, her gaze shifting to Leo for an explanation.

Leo hesitated, aware that the situation might raise more questions. "Uh, she's at the manor recovering from a little problem we had at the passport office," he admitted, choosing to be forthright.

Prue, eager to understand the situation, sought further details. "What problem?"

Leo explained, casting a rueful look in their direction. "Uh, well, she sort of blew some of it up."

Buffy grabbed Prue and Phoebe's hands and the three of them disappeared in a swirl of fiery flames a second before Leo orbed out after them.

Underworld

In the dimly lit room, Cole couldn't contain his nervous energy as he paced back and forth, clutching the amulet close to his chest. Tarkin watched his every move, his eyes darting between his brother and the precious artifact.

"Nervous?" Tarkin wondered aloud, his curiosity about Cole's demeanor apparent.

Cole, however, was more concerned about what was being left unsaid. He halted his pacing and fixed his brother with a pointed gaze. "Impatient. There's something you're not telling me, brother," he asserted, detecting a hint of suspicion in Tarkin's demeanor.

Tarkin chose that moment to turn the tables. "Actually, I was about to ask you the same question, brother," he countered.

Their tense exchange was interrupted as Raynor shimmered into the room, wearing a smirk that oozed malevolence. "Sorry to keep you waiting, I had some business to attend to," he said, addressing Cole as he approached. "Now, the amulet." With little reluctance, Cole handed the amulet over to his former mentor, an uneasy feeling gnawing at him. Raynor's demeanor was unsettling, and his words were laced with ominous intent. "Must feel good to be back in the game, it was such a beautiful death," he continued, his grin widening with a malevolent aura that surrounded him.

Confused and unnerved, Cole stared at Raynor with a puzzled expression. "What do you mean?" he asked, his gut telling him that something was amiss, but unable to decipher the cryptic message Raynor had just delivered.

Raynor's question hung in the air, his eyes scrutinizing Cole for any sign of deception. "The witch. How did you kill her?" he inquired, waiting to see if Cole would offer a truthful response.

Cole, however, was quick to defend himself. "I didn't. I'd never risk alerting the Charmed Ones just for the thrill of offing a low-level witch," he replied with a hint of frustration. If he had truly been evil, it would have been a cunning strategy to maintain secrecy until the right moment to reveal his true intentions. The entire situation was puzzling; why was Raynor so concerned about a low-level witch's death?

Raynor raised his eyebrows, clearly unsatisfied with the response. "Too bad, I would and did. Don't make me clean up after you again."

Cole couldn't help but express his disapproval. "You shouldn't have killed her, Raynor," he admonished, wondering about the potential fallout of the witch's death, particularly in Phoebe's eyes. Would she suspect his involvement?

Raynor, however, had a different perspective. "You're right. You should have," he retorted, his words shrouded in malice.

Cole couldn't help but push back, reminding Raynor of their initial mission. "You told me to just get the amulet; you didn't say kill the witch," he pointed out, defending his actions and questioning Raynor's motives.

Raynor's ominous words hung heavily in the air as he declared, "Some things go without saying," implying the ruthlessness of their mission and the sacrifices it demanded.

Tarkin, eager to prove himself, offered to take on the task of retrieving the second amulet. He was determined to demonstrate his worth to Raynor, even if it meant tackling such a crucial assignment.

However, Raynor had different plans. "No, I want Belthazor to retrieve it," he declared, shifting the responsibility back to Cole.

Cole, mindful of his limitations, shook his head, aware of his weakened state. "Let Tarkin. My strength isn't back yet. I could barely fight through the magic of the first amulet," he explained, his priority clearly shifting toward ensuring the safety of the amulets.

Raynor, though unyielding, offered an unexpected form of motivation. "You can do it, I know you. You're the great Belthazor; you can do anything you want. You've seemed to forget that. Find the witch." With a wave of his hand, he transferred the information needed to locate the second amulet, issuing a chilling directive. "But this time, show no mercy."

With a resigned sigh, Cole shimmered from the cave, the weight of his choices and the consequences ahead heavy on his shoulders. It was a perilous path he had been forced down, where betrayal and treachery seemed inevitable.

"You think he'll do it?" Tarkin asked, his conflicted emotions surrounding Cole's actions were apparent. Part of him held hope that Cole could and would complete the mission, demonstrating his loyalty and competence. However, another part wished for Cole to fail, providing Tarkin with an opportunity to prove his own worth to Raynor.

Raynor, on the other hand, seemed more calculating. "You keep putting the bottle in front of him, sooner or later he's going to take a drink," he remarked, his understanding of human weakness clear in his analogy.

Tarkin's curiosity remained unabated, and he posed another question to Raynor. "What if he doesn't?"

In response, a bright, glowing ball appeared in Raynor's hand, a harbinger of potential consequences. "Don't worry, I have insurance," he reassured, suggesting that he had contingency plans in place to ensure his objectives were met.

Halliwell Manor

Buffy appeared in a fiery swirl in the foyer with Prue and Phoebe, followed closely by Leo.

Prue, ready to get to work, stated her intention, "Alright, I'll start scrying."

However, Leo had a disheartening revelation. "I don't think it'll work," he admitted. "The amulet wards off magic, all magic."

Phoebe, reflecting on their previous attempt to locate the first witch, sighed in realization. "That must be why we didn't find the first witch in time. We didn't get a read on her until after the amulet was stolen."

Buffy, never one to back down, raised a valid concern. "Okay, but what happens if we don't find her before..."

Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by a loud noise and a moan of anguish emanating from the kitchen. They hurried to the source of the commotion to find Piper, her expression a mixture of disgust and exasperation, standing by the island, surrounded by watermelon guts.

Piper's unusual predicament prompted Phoebe to question her sister. "Piper?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

Prue quickly grabbed a towel and joined Piper in trying to clean the watermelon goo off her. She was quick to ask, "Was it a demon, sweetie?"

Piper, still baffled by the bizarre turn of events, clarified the situation. "No, it was watermelon."

Buffy blinked, utterly confused. "Why did you vanquish a watermelon?" she inquired, unable to grasp the reasoning behind such an act.

Piper, her frustration mounting, explained, "I didn't vanquish a watermelon. I threw it up in the air and I tried to freeze it, and it exploded." In her agitation, she gestured wildly with her hands, causing an unsuspecting potted plant to explode into pieces. Piper screamed, and in her distress, she inadvertently shattered the glass cupboards.

Leo, observing the chaotic scene, addressed the others with a wry tone. "This is the little problem I was telling you about," he said, drawing attention to the unexpected havoc that had unfolded in his absence.

Phoebe took charge of the situation, her calm and reassuring words aimed at her distraught aunt. "Okay, Piper, slowly put your hands down, and no one will get hurt," she advised. Piper, overwhelmed by her uncontrolled powers, complied, slowly lowering her trembling hands.

Piper sobbed, her distress evident as she looked at her husband. "Honey!" she cried out, the fear of harming her loved ones etched in her eyes.

Leo approached her with comforting words, trying to provide reassurance. "Sweetie, it's going to be okay; we're going to figure it out," he assured her. But Piper, lost in her fear, begged him not to come near her, fearing the consequences of her uncontrollable powers.

Prue, quick to think on her feet, handed Piper a pair of oven mitts. "Okay, put these on," she instructed, hoping to provide a safeguard against accidental explosions. "Maybe this will help. Put these on and... Okay, now try the teapot." However, Piper's attempt to use the oven mitts proved futile as she inadvertently blew up the teapot.

Buffy, with a hint of humor, acknowledged the oven mitts' failure. "Uh, I think that is a resounding no on the oven mitts preventing that," she pointed out. She took charge of the situation, offering Piper some guidance. "Alright, just relax," she instructed. "Okay, just calm down because I think your emotions are making this worse."

Leo decided to seek help from the Elders, offering a reassuring suggestion. "I'm going to go check with the Elders and see if they know what happened to your powers," he announced.

Desperate and anxious, Piper pleaded, "Hurry!"

Prue, meanwhile, added another question to Leo's list as he orbed away. "Hey, and ask them how we're supposed to... find the second witch," she urged, highlighting their ongoing mission.

Suddenly, Cole shimmered into the room, catching their attention. His presence stirred mixed reactions among the group. "I know where to find her," he announced, a determined look in his eyes.

Buffy was quick to address him, her skepticism evident. "Cole," she said, her voice wary. "Did you...?"

Cole shook his head, his commitment to the truth unwavering. "I didn't kill her. I swear," he asserted, once again asserting his innocence.

Phoebe's smile conveyed her trust in Cole as she rushed over to him. "It's okay, I know. We believe you," she assured him, her support unwavering. She couldn't help but express her concern. "You don't look so good. Are you okay?" She reached out to touch his face, but Cole instinctively pulled her hand away.

Cole, grappling with the turmoil within him, could only offer an uncertain response. "I'm not sure," he admitted, his condition and the weight of his circumstances taking a toll on him.

Phoebe, determined to help him, took the lead. "Come on," she said, leading Cole out of the room, offering her support and understanding.

Meanwhile, Prue, Piper, and Buffy remained in the room, their worries weighing heavily on them. Buffy was the first to express her concerns. "Prue, Piper," she sighed, "I'm worried about Phoebe."

Prue shared her sister's worries, her voice reflecting the gravity of the situation. "I know," she acknowledged. "I am too. I'm afraid of what will happen if Cole is forced to embrace his demonic side."

Piper, seeking to understand the potential consequences, posed a question. "You think Phoebe will be forced to choose between us and him?"

Prue considered the possibilities with a heavy heart. "Possibly," she admitted, recognizing the difficult choices and challenges that lay ahead for her sister and their family.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

As they conversed in Phoebe's room, Cole's concern for the potion's progress became evident. "What about the potion? How close are you?" he inquired; his voice tinged with urgency.

Phoebe explained the current status. "We're just missing one ingredient, billings root, whatever that is. But as soon as I find it, then I can finish it," she assured him, her determination unwavering.

Cole, weighed down by the gravity of his situation, revealed the direness of his circumstances. "Well, I don't have much time; I'm kind of hanging on by my fingertips as it is," he admitted, the sense of urgency in his voice palpable.

Worry etched Phoebe's expression as she locked eyes with him. "Well, you have to hold on a little longer. You can do it, Cole, I know you," she encouraged, her belief in him shining through.

Cole, however, shared a disheartening revelation. "Raynor says he knows me too."

Desperate to reach him, Phoebe implored him to remain resolute. "Cole, look at me. Look at me," she pleaded, capturing his attention. "You have to keep fighting it. You have to keep fighting him; you cannot let him win."

Cole's admission about the predicament he faced weighed heavily on both of them. "But fighting is how he does win," he explained, the hopelessness of his situation apparent. "Raynor's just waiting for me to slip so he can drag me back into the fold. I know that's what he's doing."

Phoebe, unwavering in her determination to protect him, moved closer to Cole and gently touched his face. "He can't have you. I won't let him," she asserted with fervor, her love and resolve evident.

In his desperation, Cole made a heartfelt plea. "Then save me, Phoebe," he begged. The gravity of his words hung in the air as he revealed the sinister orders he had received. "I've been ordered to kill the next witch. You have to get there first and stop me. Otherwise, Raynor will win."

Golden Gate Park

Amidst the bushes, concealed from view, Cole observed the coven as they gathered around a small fire, engaged in a ritual. The words of one of the women echoed. "The birth and rebirth of all nature," she intoned. "The passing of winter and spring, we share in the life universal. Rejoice in the magical ring. I'll see you all next week. Blessed be."

The response came in unison from the others. "Blessed be."

Suddenly, Cole was joined by Tarkin, shimmering in beside him. Cole's irritation was evident as he questioned his brother's presence. "What are you doing here?" he snarled, his attention never wavering from the witches.

Tarkin offered an explanation for his sudden appearance. "Just watching your back," he clarified.

Cole, his distrust still lingering, turned to give a pointed glance at the curly-haired demon. "Yeah, well, watching is one thing, stabbing is another," he warned, making it clear that he would not tolerate any treacherous actions.

Tarkin's reaction to Cole's distrust was marked by a scoff. "What's the matter, Belthazor? Don't trust me?" he retorted with a degree of sarcasm.

Cole's response was curt and to the point, his distrust evident. "I don't trust anyone," he growled, revealing the depth of his wariness.

Tarkin, unperturbed, continued to probe his brother. "Never did. That's probably what made you so great. No elegance, no conscience, no hesitation."

As the coven members began to disperse, leaving only their target behind, Tarkin pressed the issue. "You know what Raynor wants. Just give in to him. You'll feel better after you kill the witch."

Meanwhile, the witch in question had heard a rustling in the bushes nearby, raising her suspicions. She inquired, "Who's there?"

Cole stepped out from his hiding place, Tarkin following closely behind him. As the witch stood, her gaze fixed on the two newcomers, Cole flawlessly transformed into Belthazor. The absence of a personal name for his victim emphasized the emotional distance he maintained. "You can't hurt me," she declared, clutching her amulet as a source of protection.

Belthazor advanced toward the witch, his intent clear. The gravity of the situation weighed on him, but he remained determined to carry out the orders he had received, even as he struggled with the darkness that threatened to consume him.

As the dire situation unfolded, it seemed that Cole might be forced to carry out his grim orders, with no sign of the sisters to save the witch or him. However, just as this thought crossed his mind, Buffy made a dramatic entrance in a swirl of fiery flames, accompanied by Prue, Piper, and Phoebe.

Phoebe immediately tried to warn Cole, but he was already reaching through the magical shield. "Cole, don't!" she shouted in desperation.

Prue, taking charge in the chaotic moment, issued a crucial command. "Piper, freeze them," she ordered, recognizing the unexpected presence of a second demon, which had not been anticipated. It was a dangerous situation, and they needed to act quickly.

Piper, however, was paralyzed by fear, her voice trembling as she responded, "I might blow him up." Her concern for Cole's safety and her hesitation were palpable.

Prue, thinking on her feet, decided to take direct action. "Ugh," she grumbled as she sent Belthazor flying, creating a distraction that allowed Faith to make a move toward the innocent witch.

Taking advantage of the situation, Buffy rushed to the innocent witch's side, providing reassurance. "It's okay. We're witches too," she informed the witch, seeking to comfort her.

Meanwhile, Tarkin prepared to unleash an energy bolt, his intentions clear. "Piper!" Buffy yelled, urgently trying to get Piper's attention. The bolt crackled with dark energy, waiting to be hurled at Piper, intensifying the urgency of the situation.

Startled by the sudden urgency in Buffy's voice, Piper reacted by throwing her hands up, inadvertently causing a massive explosion that blasted a hole in a nearby tree. Prue tried to offer reassurance, but Piper remained deeply unsettled by her powers spiraling out of control.

Tarkin, believing the opportunity was ripe, ordered Belthazor to take action. He was dangerously close to the chaos, and the explosive power unleashed by Piper's failed attempt to freeze had even wounded him. With the risk of a misdirected energy bolt looming, he was compelled to act. "Kill them!" Tarkin shouted, his demand fueling the urgency.

Phoebe's desperate plea fell on deaf ears, as Cole, torn between his inner turmoil and the command he had received, threw a high-voltage energy ball at Buffy and the witch. The protective shield effectively deflected the deadly projectile, but the sheer force sent Buffy and the witch sprawling.

Prue, her anger flaring, employed her telekinesis to hurl Cole forcefully against a rock. The impact left a visible crack in the stone, and Cole growled, discomfort radiating through his body. With an unrelenting glare directed at Buffy, he shimmered out of the scene, and Tarkin swiftly followed.

Halliwell Manor

Prue, Piper, Phoebe, and Jenna, the witch they had just saved, walked into the living room, their faces illuminated by a mixture of relief and determination. The air seemed to hum with the residual energy of their latest encounter.

"Leo!" Piper called out, her voice tinged with urgency, her eyes searching for the familiar sight of their Whitelighter.

Prue, her brows furrowed, stepped forward, her words laced with concern. "Uh, he's our Whitelighter," she explained, her tone reflecting the gravity of their situation.

Phoebe joined in, her voice filled with a mix of warmth and family connection. "And our brother-in-law," she added, emphasizing the close bond they all shared.

Buffy couldn't help but chime in with a touch of playfulness, even in the face of danger. "Well, technically cousin by marriage for me. But none of us think of me as a cousin, just the littlest sister," she said, her smile a testament to the deep affection she had for her family.

Piper, struggling with her newfound powers, sounded frustrated and vulnerable as she confessed her dilemma. "I don't know what is up with me. Every time I try to freeze, I flame," she admitted, her voice trembling with uncertainty.

"Leo!" Prue called out, her voice carrying a note of desperation and worry as she sought their Whitelighter's assistance.

Buffy, still nursing her wounded arm, attempted to reassure Prue, her tone filled with determination and a touch of stoicism. "I'm fine, really, it's no big deal," she insisted, although the pain in her voice was evident.

Piper, who had been struggling with her powers, wasn't willing to let it slide. Her voice was firm as she spoke up, concern lacing her words. "It's a huge deal, Cole tried to kill you," she told Buffy, her expression a mix of anger and fear.

Prue, with a calm yet determined expression, passed behind the innocent they had just saved and informed her sister about Cole's true nature. "He's the demon," she said, her tone unwavering. She wasn't the least bit surprised that Cole had hurled an energy ball at Buffy and Jenna. In this dangerous world, trust was a rare commodity.

Jenna nodded in agreement, her eyes wide with apprehension. But her steps came to a sudden halt when Piper dropped the shocking revelation that the demon who attacked them was none other than Phoebe's boyfriend.

Phoebe's irritation flared, and her fiery gaze burned holes through her siblings. "We have very complicated lives," she remarked with a hint of exasperation, her love for her family shining through despite the chaos that surrounded them. "Just ask Buffy who she's dating."

Buffy, not one to be outdone in the complexity department, rolled her eyes and replied with a touch of humor, "Vampire. Though was is more accurate. He and I broke up." Her words carried a mix of resilience and a hint of vulnerability, reflecting the ever-changing nature of her relationships in the tumultuous world she inhabited.

"I'm just thrilled to meet you all," Jenna stammered, her excitement tinged with the terror of the recent attack. "I mean, I've heard of the Charmed Ones as well as the Charmed Slayer, of course, but I thought… I'd never dreamed I'd—"

Phoebe's voice, still quivering with anxiety, cut through her words. "Nearly die with us?" she said, her tone laced with a mix of bitter humor and resignation. "Yes, well, welcome to our lives."

"You saved me, and the amulet. That's enough." Jenna said, her voice tinged with gratitude and relief. Her eyes, still reflecting the remnants of fear, met Buffy's with a mix of admiration and trust. "May I?" She looked at Buffy's arm. "Well, the wound isn't deep. A salve would cleanse it and ease the pain. Would you allow me entrance to your herb cupboard?"

"Kitchen, she means kitchen." Prue interjected, a smirk playing on her lips, the lightness in her tone a stark contrast to the recent danger they faced.

"Hmm? Oh, right, sure, follow me." Piper said as she pointed toward the kitchen.

"Oh, hands down, hands down." Buffy chimed in.

"Come on, sit down, take it easy." Prue said, her tone gentle yet firm, as she and Buffy settled on the couch. Phoebe found herself drawn to the coffee table, choosing to sit there, facing her sisters.

"I'm fine, Prue, really," Buffy said, attempting to downplay the impact of the recent ordeal.

"Cole would not try to kill anyone," Phoebe said, her words carrying a mixture of conviction and concern, a testament to the unwavering belief she held in Cole's intentions. "He knew that the amulet would protect Buffy. He could've fired at you, Prue, or me, or Piper but he didn't. With the other demon there, he made the only choice he could."

"And you really believe that, right?" Buffy's question hung in the air, filled with a blend of skepticism and a glimmer of hope, seeking reassurance in Phoebe's response.

Phoebe nodded, her gaze unwavering. "Yeah, I know it. I saw his eyes. They were filled with pain, not evil. Buffy, Prue, we've got to get him out of there before it's too late."

"Alright, then we better figure out a way to finish that power stripping potion fast. Come on." Prue's voice, laced with determination, echoed the urgency of the situation.

Buffy, Prue, and Phoebe walked into the kitchen where Jenna was mixing ingredients in a bowl. The rhythmic clinking of utensils against the bowl created a backdrop to the serious discussion unfolding.

"Check her out. Whipping it up like its Tollhouse Cookies. Maybe after she fixes Buffy she can fix me." Piper's attempt at humor carried a mix of relief and playfulness, a temporary diversion from the weight of the impending task.

"Piper, you don't need fixing," Buffy said, her words carrying a comforting reassurance, a reminder of the strength that resided within each of them.

"Uh, if it's taking the Elders this long to tell Leo what's wrong with me, then I definitely need fixing," Piper responded, her tone a blend of resignation and a hint of humor, a coping mechanism in the face of uncertainty.

"This will feel a little warm," Jenna said, her voice a soothing balm as she spread a paste on Buffy's wound. The gentle touch and the warmth of the concoction created a momentary respite, a tangible manifestation of care amidst the chaos.

"That is amazing. It doesn't hurt at all. Hey, how are you at making potions?" Phoebe asked, her curiosity blending with a sense of urgency, a testament to their collective determination to confront the challenges they faced.

"Well, what do you need?" Jenna responded, her willingness to help evident in her tone, a newfound ally in their shared quest.

"We need to de-tox a demon," Prue said, her words cutting through the air with a gravity that underscored the severity of their mission.

"Yeah, we need something called billings root," Phoebe said, her words laced with urgency, a key ingredient to their remedy.

"Well, you have that. It's on the bottom shelf," Jenna said, her familiarity with the ingredients evident as she retrieved a jar from their cupboard.

"No, that's ginger," Buffy pointed out, a moment of shared confusion that lingered in the air.

Jenna nodded, "Now that's what it's called. In the old covens, they called it billings root."

"Jenna, you healed Buffy and now you've healed me," Phoebe expressed, a warmth in her voice as she enveloped Jenna in a grateful hug.

"Piper, do you think you can help Jenna with the potion? Just not point at anything," Phoebe requested, a mix of humor and sincerity in her tone.

"Only one way to find out," Piper responded, her confidence interwoven with a touch of playfulness.

Phoebe turned to Buffy, a determined gleam in her eyes. "Can I get you to flame me?"

Buffy nodded without hesitation. "Sure, where?"

"We're going to get Cole back here. If I'm right about what I saw in his eyes, he'll go to the mausoleum," Phoebe explained, her words charged with conviction and a sense of urgency.

"And what if you're wrong?" Prue questioned, her concern etched on her face.

"Well, then he'll be back here with his buddy to get the amulet," Piper chimed in, her voice a mix of pragmatism and readiness for whatever might unfold.

"I'm not wrong. Cole's not the enemy. He's the victim. And I'm gonna save him," Phoebe declared, her determination resonating in the room. She took Buffy's hand, a symbol of solidarity, and with a swirl of fiery flames, they vanished from the kitchen.

Mausoleum

Phoebe paced anxiously around the mausoleum, her steps echoing the rhythm of her racing thoughts. The dim light cast eerie shadows on the cold stone walls, emphasizing the gravity of the situation. Buffy, in a moment of respite, lay back on one of the tombs, her eyes focused on the ceiling as she contemplated the impending confrontation.

"Cole," Phoebe said when Cole shimmered into the room. Her voice carried a mix of concern and determination, a reflection of the conflicting emotions that battled within her. "Surprised to see me?" she asked.

"I hoped but why'd you come after what I did?" Cole asked, his tone a blend of curiosity and self-reflection, acknowledging the gravity of his recent actions.

Buffy sat up, her gaze piercing as she looked at the half-demon. "Because you need us," she told him, her words cutting through the lingering tension. "Besides, it's not like you haven't tried to kill us before. A little energy ball isn't going to stop me, or Phoebe, or Prue, or…"

Cole nodded, his eyes locking with Phoebe's, a silent exchange that spoke volumes. "You know, I didn't have a choice, I didn't mean to hurt Buffy."

"I know, I know, I know, it's okay. I just need to get you back to the house, get that potion and you will be safe," Phoebe reassured him, her voice a soothing balm, an offering of redemption and protection in the face of the turmoil that surrounded them.

"It's too late for that," Cole said, his voice strained as he coughed, the sound echoing through the mausoleum.

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked, her eyes narrowing with concern.

Cole's hand morphed into Belthazor's hand, a transformation that sent a shiver through the room. His face began to change, the shifting features revealing the struggle within.

"We have to hurry," Phoebe urged, her sense of urgency cutting through the growing tension.

"Maybe I should shimmer us there," Cole suggested, his voice laced with a hint of desperation.

Phoebe shook her head, a firm resolve in her eyes. "You can't use your demonic powers, it's too much temptation. Buffy will flame us there," she declared, acknowledging the delicate balance they had to maintain in their race against time.

Buffy took Cole and Phoebe's hands, and in an instant, they disappeared in a swirl of fiery flames.

Halliwell Manor

Buffy, Phoebe, and Cole appeared in a swirl of fiery flames in the attic of the Manor. The sudden arrival filled the room with a crackling energy, drawing the attention of Prue, Piper, and Jenna.

"Hey," Phoebe greeted her sisters and Jenna, her voice carrying a mix of relief and urgency.

Buffy helped Cole to sit in a chair, the weariness evident in his every movement. Prue observed him closely, her discerning gaze not missing the toll the recent events had taken on him. "You look like hell," she remarked.

"You have no idea," Cole replied, his voice heavy with the weight of his recent ordeal.

"Is the potion done?" Buffy asked, cutting through the tension with a directness that mirrored the urgency of their mission.

"It still has to cool and turn blood red," Jenna answered, her eyes fixed on the bubbling potion in front of her.

"I'll get some ice," Piper said, her voice laced with determination as she headed for the door.

"Oh, uh, I'll help. So you don't melt it," Prue chimed in, a playful smirk on her face as she and Piper gracefully made their way out of the attic. "Well, look on the bright side, at least you got a new power. I mean, you've been bitching about it long enough," she teased, her words carrying a mix of sisterly banter and genuine care.

"Yeah, well, careful what you bitch for," Piper replied, a wry smile playing on her lips as she and Prue descended the stairs.

Just as the warmth of their exchange lingered, Tarkin materialized in the room. Reflexes kicked in, and Piper instinctively flicked her wrist, but instead of channeling her powers toward Tarkin, she inadvertently blew up a potted plant.

"Uh..." Tarkin hesitated, thrown off balance by Piper's unexpected move. In retaliation, he conjured an energy ball and hurled it at them, only to be met with Prue's swift deflection using her own power.

With a graceful yet forceful movement, Prue advanced toward Tarkin, delivering a swift kick to his stomach followed by a powerful blow to his head. The demon, though momentarily stunned, growled defiantly.

"Try again!" Tarkin snarled, his demonic energy pulsating through the room.

Piper, desperate to protect her sister, attempted to wield her powers against Tarkin. However, a surge of chaotic magic caused a nearby shelf to topple over, crashing onto Prue and rendering her unconscious.

"Oops," Piper gasped, her eyes wide with horror as the realization of her unintended actions sank in. Tarkin, seizing the opportunity, began to rise.

"Phoebe, Buffy, help!" Piper's urgent call echoed through the hallways as she swiftly grabbed a nearby vase, using it to deliver a strategic blow to Tarkin's head, buying precious moments for her sisters.

"Phoebe! Buffy! Phoebe, Buffy, help!" Piper's desperate cries reverberated through the house, a mix of urgency and fear lacing her voice. Buffy and Phoebe, responding to the distress call, rushed down the stairs with determined expressions, ready for whatever awaited them.

"Watch out!" Piper's warning cut through the tense atmosphere as Tarkin launched an energy ball at Phoebe. Buffy retaliated by hurling a fireball at Tarkin. The two magical projectiles collided in a spectacular explosion of light and force.

"Oh, please, please, please," Piper pleaded, her eyes fixed on the unfolding spectacle. With a flick of her wrist Tarkin exploded into a swirl of energy. "I did it! I did it!" Piper exulted.

Buffy, wearing a proud smile, approached Piper. "Very good," she commended.

"Of course, I meant to freeze him," Piper quipped, attempting to lighten the mood as she glanced towards Prue's still form. "I don't think Prue's gonna be grateful."

"Wake her up; I've got to get back to Cole," Phoebe instructed, her focus unwavering as she turned and ascended the stairs, her steps echoing with determination.

"Um…" Piper hesitated, looking at Buffy. Buffy, in response, simply shrugged, understanding the complexity of their lives. She positioned herself beside Prue and extended her hands over her, the familiar golden glow of healing energy emanating from her hands.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

In the attic, the atmosphere crackled with magical energy as the potion, carefully brewed and now seated in an ornate chalice, underwent a transformative process, turning from a simmering concoction into a deep, ominous shade of blood red.

"It's ready," Jenna declared, her voice carrying a mix of accomplishment and excitement as she turned to Leo.

However, the celebration was short-lived as the tranquility of the attic was shattered by the sudden appearance of Raynor. The demonic figure materialized with malevolent intent, wasting no time in launching a lethal energy ball at Leo. The impact was swift and powerful, rendering the Whitelighter unconscious. Jenna gasped, her eyes widening in shock, and she instinctively turned to face Raynor, a protective instinct taking over.

"Leave her out of this, Raynor," Cole commanded, his voice resonating with a mixture of authority and concern for Jenna's safety.

"I serve with every breath, even my last," Jenna declared, a steely determination in her eyes as she raised her amulet defensively.

Raynor, undeterred, met Jenna's statement with a malevolent smirk. "I'll have to take you up on that. But I think I'll save that pleasure for my brother," he taunted, his dark intentions revealed. With a sinister gesture, he conjured another energy ball, hurling it at Jenna, who stood resolute behind her amulet.

The magical shield held firm, protecting Jenna from the deadly assault. The force of Raynor's attack threw Jenna back into some boxes. She fell to the floor, the amulet falling from around neck.

On the other side of the attic door, Phoebe's heart raced as she reached for the doorknob, anticipation and worry etched across her face. With a determined twist, she attempted to open the door, only to find it stubbornly blocked by an unseen force. Frustration furrowed her brow as she tried to peer through the crack, searching for any sign of what might be hindering her entry.

"Cole?" she called out, her voice tinged with both concern and urgency, the rhythmic pounding of her fist against the door emphasizing her desperation to reach him.

Inside the attic, the air thickened with tension as Raynor confronted Cole with a twisted proposition. "I've come to take you home," he declared, his words laced with a dark allure.

"I am home," Cole countered, his voice steady and resolute, resisting the malevolent influence that sought to reclaim him.

"Cole!" Phoebe's pleas reverberated through the door, an emotional tether between them in the face of the encroaching darkness.

Raynor, undeterred, continued his insidious persuasion, attempting to exploit the internal struggle within Cole. "You will be when you kill the witch. Stop fighting it, Belthazor. You're a demon. Embrace it. Let evil make you strong again, give into it," he urged, his words weaving a sinister web around Cole's conflicted soul.

"Cole? Leo?" Phoebe's growing unease spurred her to make a difficult decision. With a heavy heart, she turned away from the door, her steps quickening as she descended the stairs in search of reinforcements. "Buffy!"

Buffy's eyes narrowed in concern as Phoebe descended the stairs in a hurry, a sense of urgency radiating from her. Turning toward her, Buffy questioned, "What?"

"Flame, attic. Now!" Phoebe's words were succinct, conveying the gravity of the situation. The urgency in her voice prompted Buffy to act swiftly. Without a moment's hesitation, Buffy seized Phoebe's hands.

In an instant, the atmosphere in the room shifted as the two women vanished in a swirl of fiery flames.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Is she really worth sacrificing your father's soul for?" Raynor's taunting words echoed through the attic just as Buffy and Phoebe materialized.

"Cole, no, don't do it," Phoebe pleaded, her voice filled with desperation and a plea for reason. The air in the attic crackled with an ominous energy as Cole, torn between conflicting forces, let out a guttural yell. In a dark and swift transformation, he morphed into the demonic form of Belthazor, his eyes gleaming with an otherworldly intensity.

Belthazor wasted no time, conjuring a deadly energy ball and hurling it at Jenna. The magical projectile struck its target, and with a burst of intense energy, Jenna was vanquished. Raynor, seizing the opportunity, shimmered out of the room, leaving behind an eerie silence that hung heavy in the air.

Outside the attic door, Prue, utilizing her telekinetic powers, skillfully opened the previously sealed entrance. She and Piper rushed in, their concern etched on their faces as they assessed the aftermath of the magical confrontation.

As Buffy and Phoebe observed the scene, their attention sharply focused on Belthazor. "Phoebe," Belthazor's voice resonated, a hint of vulnerability underlying the demonic exterior.

"What did you do to him?" Piper demanded as she and Prue knelt next to Leo, her eyes narrowing with suspicion, her protective instincts flaring. The atmosphere in the attic quivered with tension as Belthazor morphed back into the familiar form of Cole.

"Buffy and I saw what you did," Phoebe declared, her gaze unwavering, a mix of disappointment and concern shadowing her features.

Cole shook his head, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he attempted to convey the complexity of the situation. "It's not what it looks like. It wasn't..."

"Jenna is dead, and Dad is unconscious. What else could it be?" Buffy countered, her tone unyielding, the weight of the evidence too damning to ignore.

"Raynor forced me, I had no choice," Cole admitted, a note of remorse threading through his words. His eyes, once filled with determination, now held a glimmer of vulnerability as he faced the harsh reality of his actions.

"There's always a choice, Cole," Phoebe said, her voice a mixture of disappointment and determination.

As the tension in the room reached a boiling point, Cole's gaze fell on the potion, a desperate glimmer of hope sparking within him. In a swift motion, he reached for it, his fingers grazing the cool surface. "The potion," he urged, his voice tinged with urgency. However, Phoebe intercepted his attempt, grabbing the potion before he could.

"Before it's too late," he implored, his eyes searching for a lifeline in the chaos that surrounded him.

Phoebe, however, remained resolute. "It's already too late. You killed an innocent woman. There is no turning back from that," she reminded him, her words cutting through the air with a stark finality.

"I didn't want to kill her," Cole pleaded, the weight of regret evident in his voice. "You've got to understand that, I can still be good."

"There's nothing good in you anymore," Phoebe asserted, her gaze unwavering. The disappointment and betrayal she felt were palpable, a chasm of trust shattered by the recent events.

"Maybe there never was," Buffy chimed in, her voice a mixture of skepticism and concern as she draped an arm comfortingly around Phoebe. The bonds of sisterhood strengthened in the face of adversity, as they grappled with the truth of Cole's actions.

Piper, her expression a mix of anger and suspicion, interjected, "But evil can't use the amulets or the books."

Buffy, her mind racing to piece together the puzzle, proposed a disturbing possibility. "He could've if we'd stripped his powers. Is that why you wanted the potion, Cole? So you could get the spell and use the amulets against us?"

Phoebe, her eyes narrowing with suspicion, confronted Cole with the weight of the accusation. "Phoebe, you've got to believe me," Cole implored, desperation lacing his words.

Buffy shook her head, her eyes reflecting a mixture of disappointment and empathy. "I think she's believed you one too many times. I think we all have."

Cole's face contorted into a deep frown as he glared at the Slayer. "Stay out of this! This is between me and Phoebe."

Buffy stepped forward, positioning herself as a shield in front of Phoebe, her protective stance emanating a palpable intensity. A fireball crackled to life in her hand, casting an ominous glow across her determined face. "Shall we go at it, Cole? Fireball against energy ball? See who wins?"

Phoebe emerged from behind Buffy, her eyes fixed on Cole but her expression resolute. "There's nothing between us anymore," she declared.

"Phoebe, don't let Raynor take this away from us, don't let him win," Cole pleaded, desperation tainting his voice.

"Raynor didn't set you up, you set me up. What am I supposed to do?" Phoebe's words carried the weight of betrayal, her tone tinged with a mixture of hurt and defiance.

"Please, save me," Cole implored, his eyes searching Phoebe's for a glimmer of mercy.

"Save yourself," Phoebe retorted with a steely resolve, her hand gripping a vial of potion that held the key to severing the ties between them. Without hesitation, she hurled the potion to the floor.

The room crackled with magic as Cole shimmered out of existence, leaving behind a void that echoed with the shattered remnants of a love that had once held promise.

May 5, 1999 – Wednesday

Halliwell Manor

The next morning in the living room, the ambiance was filled with the earthy scent of soil as Piper meticulously repotted a plant. The room seemed to resonate with a tranquil energy, a stark contrast to the recent magical skirmish. Buffy and Prue entered, their presence adding a layer of camaraderie to the domestic scene.

Piper glanced up from her gardening task, a small smile playing on her lips. "Sorry about knocking you out. Nothing personal," she offered, her voice carrying a mix of sincerity and playful regret.

Prue, collecting a stack of books, responded with a wry grin. "Yeah, well, at least you didn't blow me up."

Piper chuckled, a lighthearted acknowledgment of the unpredictable nature of their magical lives. "Yeah, I was kind of relieved too," she admitted.

Buffy, always quick to offer support, nodded understandingly. "Piper, the control will come."

Piper sighed, her gaze dropping to the plant in her hands. "Mm-hmm. Yeah, tell that to the Ficus," she quipped, injecting a touch of humor into the conversation.

"Well, you sure told it to Tarkin," Prue remarked, her tone a mix of admiration and acknowledgment.

Piper's lips curled into a small, satisfied smile. "That was kind of cool."

Buffy chimed in, her eyes reflecting pride. "So, see, we can celebrate. You know, I mean, you got a new power and you beat a demon with it."

Piper's smile faded into a thoughtful expression, her mind drifting to the weight of recent events. "I wish I could've done more. For Jenna, and Cole. I mean, vanquishing one bad guy and losing three good guys is not exactly a winning score."

Sympathy flickered in Buffy's eyes as she considered the toll of their battles. "Yeah, so we are still counting Cole as good, right?" Prue questioned, seeking confirmation.

Piper nodded, her gaze sincere. "Yeah, I mean, I actually finally understand how he feels, having something inside of you that you can't control, which is capable of hurting the people that you love even if you don't want it to."

Phoebe walked into the room, her expression a mix of weariness and introspection. In her hands, she carefully cradled three candles, a somber offering amidst the aftermath of a tumultuous night. "Oh, I'm sorry, guys. I didn't mean to stick you with the morning-after clean up," she apologized, her voice carrying a subtle note of gratitude for the unspoken support.

Buffy, sensing the weight on Phoebe's shoulders, gently inquired, "How you doing?"

Phoebe sank onto the couch, the candles finding a temporary home on the coffee table. Her eyes, reflecting a turbulent mix of emotions, met Buffy's. "I'm not sure," she admitted, the uncertainty in her voice mirroring the complexity of her feelings.

"Well, you have a lot to sort out," Prue offered, her words carrying a sense of understanding and concern.

Phoebe shook her head, a gesture that seemed to dismiss any possibility of complexity. "No, not really. I lost my soul mate to evil, end of the story."

Piper, who had been quietly observing, sighed empathetically. "Pheebs, I think he really tried but..."

"It wasn't enough," Phoebe countered, her voice carrying the weight of self-doubt and sorrow. "I wasn't enough. I thought we could do a blessing for our two fallen witches, and for Cole."

Buffy, Prue, and Piper, sensing the gravity of the moment, knelt in unison in front of the table. Phoebe ignited a match and handed it to Prue, the flame dancing in the quiet room.

"For Liza, a lost sister, may her spirit soar," Prue intoned with a solemn reverence, her eyes reflecting the depth of the sisterhood that bound them together. She lit a candle, and then, with a graceful pass, handed the match to Piper.

"For Jenna, our lost friend, may we meet again," Piper murmured, the flame flickering to life as she spoke. She lit a candle and then, with a subtle nod, passed the match to Phoebe.

"For Cole, a lost love," Phoebe whispered, her voice tinged with a bittersweet ache. She lit the final candle, its glow casting shadows on the solemn faces gathered around. "May he find peace," she added, her wish carrying the weight of both love and farewell. With a gentle exhale, Phoebe blew out the match, symbolizing the fragility of life and the fleeting nature of their time together.

The room held a sacred silence, the candles flickering in homage to the departed. Just as the moment settled, Leo walked in. "Piper, we're going..." he began, his words trailing off as he noticed the somber tableau before him, "...to have plenty of time to talk later."

Phoebe shook her head, her expression shifting from somber to hopeful. "No, that's okay, Leo. We could actually use some good news, and it seems like you have some."

Leo offered a warm smile, sensing the need for a glimmer of positivity in the midst of their magical tumult. "Well, I don't have news, but I do have a passport," he revealed, holding up the small booklet as a tangible symbol of normalcy.

Piper gasped, a mix of surprise and concern etched across her face. Prue instinctively held Piper's hands down, a silent gesture to temper any potential outburst. "You went back?" Prue inquired, her eyes searching Leo's for an explanation.

Leo nodded, his gaze meeting theirs with a steady sincerity. "Yeah, well, I was thinking with everything that's happened and your new power, making life a little crazy, alright, crazier, I figured the least I could do is make it somewhat normal."

Piper, her heart touched by Leo's thoughtful gesture, couldn't help but express her concern. "Are you sure?"

Leo nodded again, his eyes reflecting unwavering determination. "Anything that it takes to get you on a plane to Paris."

Piper, in a light-hearted attempt to alleviate the seriousness of the conversation, chuckled and approached Leo. "Ah, you know what? I think we should wait on that. I wouldn't want to sneeze at 40,000 feet and have a whole bunch of people explode, that would be bad." She kissed him, the affectionate gesture a testament to the love that transcended the magical complexities of their lives.

"Congrats though, Dad, on getting your passport," Buffy interjected with a warm smile.

Underworld

Cole materialized within a dimly lit cavern, the shadows dancing along the rocky walls as he faced the imposing figure of Raynor. The air seemed to thicken with an unspoken tension, the weight of their shared history and conflicting destinies hanging palpably in the cavernous space.

"I knew you'd come back; I've been waiting for you," Raynor declared with an air of assurance, his voice echoing against the stone walls.

Cole's eyes, a mix of determination and urgency, locked onto Raynor. "My father's soul, where is it?" he demanded, his words cutting through the stillness of the cavern.

In response, a bright, glowing ball materialized in Raynor's hand, radiating an ethereal light that seemed to hold the essence of a soul. Cole carefully extended his hand, taking the radiant orb from Raynor's grasp. The energy pulsed between them, a tangible connection between the mortal and the demonic.

Raynor's calculating gaze lingered on Cole, a cynical smirk playing on his lips. "Of course, now that you're evil, what can you do with it?" he probed, his words a taunting challenge.

Cole's jaw tightened, his resolve unyielding. "That's not your concern," he retorted, his voice cutting through the cavern like a blade.

"True. You're my only concern," Raynor asserted, his voice resonating with a chilling confidence as he stood in the cavern, a figure cloaked in darkness.

The air between them thickened with tension, and Cole, his eyes filled with a mix of rage and curiosity, confronted Raynor. "How'd you get me to do it? A spell?" he demanded, his words laced with a desperation for understanding.

Raynor's response, delivered with a sinister smirk, cut through the cavern's stillness. "Does it really matter? But you enjoyed it, didn't you, killing the witch?" he taunted, the implications of his words hanging heavily in the air.

Cole, his jaw clenching with the weight of remorse and anger, shook his head. "Not as much as I'm going to enjoy this." With swift precision, he thrust a knife into Raynor's stomach. The cavern echoed with a gasp, and Raynor recoiled in pain.

"You killed Phoebe's love for me. Now I'm gonna watch you die," Cole declared, his eyes ablaze with a vengeful fire.

Raynor, though wounded, seemed to revel in the violence unfolding. "I feel your heart, it's racing even as mine slows. You're enjoying this, I can feel it," he hissed, a sadistic satisfaction coloring his words. "This is what I hoped for. Your inner-demonic nature finally showing itself for all its glory."

Cole, fueled by a cocktail of rage and despair, pushed Raynor away, the knife digging in deeper before withdrawing. The cavern erupted in flames, an otherworldly force claiming Raynor, the embodiment of evil, as its victim. As fire consumed Raynor, Cole knelt on the ground, the weight of his actions sinking in.