Charmed: Another Halliwell

by Brenna's Urbangirl Projects

Summary: Buffy Summers is the daughter of Joyce and Hank Summers. Joyce was born Patience Joyce Halliwell she was Prue, Piper and Phoebe's aunt. When Joyce dies Buffy is left in the care of her cousins. Pairings: Prue, Piper, and Phoebe (and later Paige) canon pairings. Buffy/Dawn (Yes, Forbidden Sibling Love). A/U Set during and after Charmed Season 1 and Buffy season 1.

77. Chapter 77: Charmed Again Pt 1

Chapter 77: Charmed Again Pt. 1

June 14, 1999 – Monday

Halliwell Manor

Piper and Buffy sat huddled together in the dimly lit room, surrounded by the remnants of their desperate search. Tear-streaked faces illuminated by the flickering candlelight, they clutched their respective Books of Shadows, worn and weathered from hours of relentless pursuit. The clock on the wall ticked closer to 4 o'clock in the morning, a cruel reminder of the time slipping away.

"Hear now the words of the witches, the secrets we hid in the night. The oldest of Gods are invoked here, the great magic is sought," they chanted, their voices tremulous with a mix of sorrow and determination. The candle danced, casting eerie shadows on the jars of herbs, chalices, and other arcane tools that adorned the makeshift altar.

"In this night and in this battle, I call upon the ancient power." The plea hung in the air as Buffy and Piper closed their eyes, the weight of their shared grief palpable. "Bring back my sister. Bring back the Power of Three."

The silence that followed was deafening. No miraculous change, no sign that their incantation had pierced the veil between worlds. Piper and Buffy exchanged glances, their eyes reflecting the desperation that clung to their souls.

Refusing to surrender to despair, Buffy blindly turned the pages of her Book of Shadows until she found a new spell, To Call a Lost Witch. With the familiarity of practiced hands, they gathered the required ingredients—rosemary, cypress, and yarrow root—into a gleaming silver bowl.

"Power of the witches' rise. Course unseen across the skies. Come to us, we call you near. Come to us and settle here," they intoned, voices now tinged with a mix of urgency and sorrow. Piper, with a determined resolve etched on her face, found an athame and, with a swift motion, sliced the left finger of her left hand. Blood welled up, symbolizing a sacrifice, a desperate plea from the depths of her heart.

"Blood to blood, I summon thee. Blood to blood, return to me." The incantation echoed in the room, the words carrying the weight of an unbreakable bond. As the blood mingled with the concoction in the silver bowl, a flicker of hope danced in their eyes, mirroring the wavering flame of the candle.

In that sacred moment, surrounded by the remnants of their grief and the trappings of ancient magic, Piper and Buffy clung to the fragile belief that their sister, Prue, would answer their call from beyond the veil.

A faint gust of wind whispered through the attic, causing the candle flame to flicker in a feeble dance. But as before, there was no other change, no miraculous shift in the fabric of reality. In the face of their desperate efforts, Buffy and Piper clung to each other, seeking solace in the shared warmth of their embrace. They pulled one another into a tight hug, burying their faces in each other's shoulders as a silent acknowledgment of their defeat.

"Piper? Buffy?" A voice, like a distant echo of hope, cut through the heavy air.

"Prue?" Piper and Buffy uttered in unison, their eyes locking onto the flickering candle with a sudden surge of anticipation. Perhaps their incantations had reached across the realms, and Prue was answering their call.

Phoebe stepped into the attic, her gaze shifting between the two emotionally wrought figures before her. "Sweeties, it's 4 o'clock in the morning," she gently chided, her tone a mix of concern and understanding. "What are you two doing?" Phoebe asked, though the answer lingered unspoken in the charged atmosphere of the room.

Neither Buffy nor Piper could muster a response as they stared blankly at the open pages of their respective Books of Shadows, the words and symbols a blur of desperation and sorrow.

Phoebe sighed, a mixture of sympathy and worry etching lines on her face as she observed Piper's bleeding finger. Without hesitation, she moved into action, grabbing a nearby towel. "Piper, you're bleeding," she stated, her voice carrying a note of urgency.

"I don't understand why magic can't fix this," Piper whimpered, her voice laden with frustration and grief.

"And why we can't bring Prue back," Buffy added, her own whimper echoing the desperation that clung to every word. "It's not like we haven't cheated death before. Heck, I've died three times and come back. I don't understand why this time isn't any different."

Phoebe, in a somber moment, began closing the bottles of magical ingredients scattered around her sisters. She steeled herself for the difficult conversation that lay ahead. "Because... neither you nor Leo can heal the dead, Buffy. You know that."

"But there's other magic. Magic that we've used before," Piper argued, her fingers flipping through the pages of the Book of Shadows, desperately seeking a solution. "Scrying, calling a lost witch, reversing time." Frustration echoed in the slam of the family's ancient book as Piper rose to her feet. "It's like the books just deserted us and deserted Prue, and I don't understand why."

Phoebe, her eyes moist with unshed tears, couldn't find words to explain the inexplicable. "We lost our sister," she sniffled, choosing not to correct herself about Prue's actual relation to Buffy. Bonds of love and shared experiences had long since blurred the lines of blood. "How can we ever understand that?" She looked at Piper and Buffy, pain etched on her face. "We've tried every magical way to bring her back... but we can't. She's gone." The harsh reality hung heavy in the air, a palpable weight on their hearts.

"I just—" Phoebe leaned in, embracing Piper and Buffy in a tight hug before separating. "I thank God that I didn't lose both of you too."

Buffy took a deep breath, her gaze dropping to the floor. Prue was more than just her cousin, more than a big sister; she was the anchor, the surrogate mother who had stepped in after her own mother's death. She had never contemplated a world without Prue, never prepared herself for the agonizing moment of saying goodbye. The weight of the loss settled on her shoulders, and Buffy struggled to find words that could capture the enormity of the void left behind by Prue's absence.

"Okay..." Phoebe took a steadying breath as she separated from them, her words a feeble attempt to inject a note of practicality into the overwhelming sorrow. "We have to get some rest. Prue will never forgive us if we look bad at her funeral."

Piper and Buffy, though their hearts were heavy with grief, couldn't help but muster a small smile at Phoebe's attempt to inject a touch of humor into the somber moment. "No, she wouldn't," Buffy agreed, her eyes briefly meeting Piper's before shifting down to her open book. The weight of its pages seemed to symbolize the burden they all carried—the weight of loss, the weight of the unknown.

In silent agreement, the three of them shuffled out of the attic, hand in hand, their bond a lifeline in the darkness that surrounded them. As they closed the attic door behind them, a heavy silence settled over the room. It was then that a mysterious wind, unfelt by the departing trio, whispered through the attic.

A subtle magical energy filled the air, causing the triquetra of the family's Book of Shadows and the moon and triquetra of Buffy's Book of Shadows to softly glow. The mysterious wind, as if guided by an unseen force, reopened both books and magically turned the pages. The ethereal glow intensified as the pages settled on the last spell Buffy and Piper had desperately tried to cast, 'To Call a Lost Witch…'

South Bay Social Services

A beautiful young woman with shoulder-length raven hair, pale skin, and deep hazel eyes sat in her cubicle, fully engrossed in her work. Dressed in a flattering cream blouse, a light denim skirt, and stylish wedge heels, she was the picture of professionalism. The soft click-clack of her keyboard echoed through the quiet office as she diligently typed away on her computer.

"Printing!" she announced loudly, a note of triumph in her voice as she completed her task. Intent on retrieving her document, she started to rise from her seat. At that moment, a gentle breeze, seemingly out of nowhere, picked up around her, and the lit candle resting on her shelf slowly succumbed to its ethereal touch, extinguishing itself.

The young woman, momentarily taken aback, watched the flickering flame dwindle into darkness with a furrowed brow. She tilted her head and squinted at the now lifeless wick, a sense of suspicion clouding her features. Rising from her seat, she turned to face the source of the strange occurrence.

As she did, a cascade of bright white lights manifested behind her, conjuring a newspaper obituary page in mid-air. The paper slowly fluttered to the ground, catching the young woman's attention. Intrigued and mildly frowning, she picked it up, scanning the solemn words displayed before her.

It was an obituary for Prue Halliwell, and the page detailed the time, date, and place of Prue's funeral. Paige Matthews, for that was her name, felt a chill run down her spine as the reality of the information sank in.

"Paige, you find that study yet?" Mr. Cowan emerged from his office, his eyes falling on Paige reading the unexpected obituary. "Paige, did you hear me?"

"Yeah," Paige replied, her voice distant as her eyes remained fixed on the obituary. She grabbed her jacket in a hurry, a sense of urgency overtaking her, "It's in the printer." Without waiting for further questions, she turned and headed for the door, determination etched across her face. "I'm sorry, I have to go."

"What do you mean go? Go where?" Mr. Cowan scoffed, growing more agitated when Paige didn't turn around or offer an explanation. "Paige! Hey, Paige!" His calls fell on deaf ears as Paige Matthews, driven by an unseen force and a sense of foreboding, hurriedly left the office.

Halliwell Manor

The parlor, shrouded in a quiet hush, was almost ready for the somber occasion that loomed ahead—the wake for Prue. Baskets of flowers adorned the carefully arranged tables, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the heaviness that hung in the air. Phoebe, clad in a black floral dress that mirrored the muted tone of mourning, moved gracefully around the room. With a watering can in hand, she tended to the blooms, a small attempt to bring life to the space of impending goodbyes.

As Phoebe meticulously fidgeted with the floral arrangements, Willow, a familiar face from a different world, approached her. Dressed in a respectful attire, Willow carried a mix of sympathy and understanding in her eyes as she navigated the delicate atmosphere.

"Hey, Phoebe," Willow said, her voice a gentle melody cutting through the quiet sadness.

Phoebe looked up, her eyes finding solace in the presence of a friend. "Hi, Willow," she replied, opening her arms for a comforting embrace. The hug, though silent, spoke volumes of shared sorrow and the support they sought from each other. "Thanks for coming."

"You're welcome," Willow responded, her expression a mixture of empathy and condolence. "I saw Faith in prison last week. I told her about Prue. She sends her condolences."

The acknowledgment of condolences from one who had faced their own battles and demons brought a sense of camaraderie, an understanding that transcended the boundaries of their individual worlds.

"Thank you for passing on the message," Phoebe said, her voice carrying the weight of appreciation.

"It's no problem, Phoebe. We may not be related by blood, but you, Buffy, and Piper are my friends, which means your family to me," Willow replied, her sincerity shining through in her kind words.

"I know," Phoebe acknowledged, her voice carrying a mix of gratitude and understanding as she embraced Willow. The bond of friendship, sometimes even stronger than blood ties, offered a source of comfort amid the storm of grief. "Thanks."

As Willow excused herself to explore the space, Phoebe's eyes were drawn to her father, Victor, sitting quietly in the living room. His gaze was fixed vacantly on the floor, a portrait of the profound grief that only parents who had lost a child could truly comprehend. Phoebe, feeling the weight of her father's sorrow, knew that this pain was not hers alone.

"If you'll excuse me, Will. Help yourself to whatever you want," Phoebe said, granting Willow permission to make herself at home in the midst of the solemn gathering.

"Thanks," Willow replied, offering a faint smile before turning her attention to the room.

Phoebe, now free to attend to her father, approached Victor with a heavy heart. She gave him a tender kiss on the cheek, a small gesture of love and support. "Can I get you anything?" she asked, her voice a delicate murmur, her touch gentle on his shoulder.

"Oh, no thanks, sweetie," Victor replied, his eyes reflecting the depth of sorrow that clung to him.

Phoebe returned to the task of watering a plant and adjusting a few others, finding a small measure of distraction in the mundane chores that seemed to fill the void left by grief. The quiet hum of the parlor was interrupted by the entrance of Leo accompanied by Cole. Leo's presence was a familiar comfort, but the appearance of Cole brought a different kind of warmth to Phoebe's heart.

"Look who's back," Leo announced, a subtle smile playing on his lips as he nodded toward Cole.

"Cole!" Phoebe exclaimed, abandoning her horticultural duties to rush over and envelop him in a tight embrace. "I was afraid you weren't going to make it to the funeral," she admitted with a hint of concern, her eyes searching his for reassurance after releasing him.

"Well, I—I can't make it... or, shouldn't anyway. The Source has got every demonic bounty hunter out there looking for me," Cole explained, his expression clouded with a mix of regret and tension.

Phoebe's disappointment flickered across her eyes before settling into a scowl. "So what else is new?" she retorted, the frustration evident in her voice.

"This is different," Cole clarified, his gaze meeting Phoebe's with a seriousness that underscored the gravity of the situation. "Saving you and Buffy makes it different. It makes me a traitor, and he's not going to stop until he finds me. I don't want that happening at Prue's funeral."

Phoebe's features softened as she absorbed the weight of Cole's words. The complexity of their relationship, entangled with magic and danger, seemed to intensify during moments of vulnerability. Determination replaced her initial disappointment as she crossed her arms, a protective stance taking shape.

"So, we'll protect you," Phoebe declared, her voice carrying a resolute edge. "The three of us."

"You can't protect me," Cole asserted, his tone heavy with the weight of reality.

"Why not?" Phoebe scoffed, her disbelief evident in her voice. "We're still witches, aren't we?"

"Yeah, but you guys aren't the Charmed Ones anymore," Cole explained as Phoebe found herself standing at the partially repaired, unpainted wall where Prue had met her tragic end. The memories lingered in the air, a silent witness to the void left by Prue's absence. "Even with Buffy's augmentation, you can't even come close to the Power of Three."

"He's right, Phoebe," Leo nodded, stepping in with a solemn acknowledgment. "Without the Power of Three..."

"I don't understand." Phoebe glared at Cole, a surge of frustration coursing through her. She raised her hand, signaling for Leo to pause before he could continue. "Isn't it harder to track a demon in a cemetery, Cole?" she questioned, her eyes searching his for a hint of compromise. "You have to go. I need you there."

The intensity of their exchange was abruptly interrupted by a knock at the door, a sound that echoed through the parlor. Despite the intrusion, Phoebe and Cole remained locked in a silent standoff, the unspoken tension lingering between them. Leo and Victor exchanged a knowing look, a shared understanding of the complexities that came with the magical world they navigated. Victor cleared his throat, breaking the impasse with a subtle reminder of the reality that awaited them beyond the parlor's confines.

"I'll get that," Victor interjected, sensing the unresolved tension between Phoebe and Cole. Motioning between them, he walked away to answer the door. Within moments, he returned with Darryl, the familiar face offering a bittersweet presence in the midst of grief.

"Hey, Phoebe," Darryl greeted her, giving Phoebe a compassionate smile. "How are you holdin' up?"

"Okay," Phoebe replied, her voice carrying a weight of sorrow as she reciprocated the hug. She slowly stepped away, grateful for the support. "It's sweet of you to stop by."

"Had to. Besides, I thought you three should know..." Darryl hesitated for a moment, his eyes meeting Phoebe's with a gravity that hinted at difficult news. "They're assigning Prue's case to another inspector."

Leo, who had been observing quietly, interjected with a furrowed brow. "What case?"

"What case? Are you kidding?" Darryl looked at Leo pointedly. "Prue and a prominent doctor were killed here, Leo. Made a lot of press. People want answers. Important people."

"So, what's this guy going to find? That it was a demonic hitman?" Cole scoffed, his disbelief evident as he walked over to stand in front of Darryl. "Gimme a break."

"He might. Look, you don't know him like I do. He'll keep looking until he finds something," Darryl replied, his eyes meeting Phoebe's, conveying a depth of understanding. "Believe me."

Cole shrugged dismissively. "I'm not worried."

"Well, I am," Leo interjected, his concern etched on his face. "I saw what happened when they were exposed as witches. Time may have reversed itself, but it still cost Prue her life."

Victor, who had been quietly observing the conversation, was immediately angered at the turn it had taken. "Would you people mind?" His voice carried the weight of grief, frustration, and a father's plea for a moment of peace. His glare deepened as he addressed the trio. "For God's sake, we're burying my daughter today. Can't this wait?"

Phoebe, feeling the tension escalating, shot a disapproving look at the men, silently urging them to show some sensitivity. She walked over to her father and embraced him, a gesture of solace in the midst of the turmoil.

Victor, like the rest of them, was struggling to keep it together. He hugged Phoebe tightly, finding solace in the embrace, before shifting his glare back to the men who seemed to be entangled in their own concerns. The heaviness in the room, a reflection of their shared grief, lingered in the air.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go check on Buffy," Victor announced, his voice tinged with a mixture of exhaustion and concern. He cast another pointed look at Leo. "You might think about doing the same with Piper."

"Why you?" Leo questioned, returning Victor's glare. "Buffy is my daughter."

"And Piper is your wife," Victor retorted, his tone firm. "You can't be in two places at once."

Leo, conceding to the logic in Victor's words, nodded in understanding. The weight of both grief and responsibility settled on his shoulders as he and Victor headed for the stairs, each carrying a heavy heart and the burden of consoling their loved ones.

"I'll do it, Mr. Bennett," Willow offered, her voice breaking through the lingering tension. "I wanted to give my condolences to Buffy anyways."

Victor appreciated the kindness in Willow's gesture. He gave her a small nod of gratitude, acknowledging the support they were receiving from unexpected quarters.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Buffy sat in front of the mirror, the room enveloped in a somber silence. Partially dressed, she was lost in her thoughts, absently brushing her hair, each stroke a rhythmic distraction from the weight of grief that hung in the air.

Carefully easing open the door, Willow entered the room with a gentle demeanor. "Buffy?" she called out, but Buffy remained lost in her thoughts, the rhythmic brushing of her hair a mechanical motion that mirrored the mechanical nature of her movements. Willow approached her slowly, a soft touch of concern etched on her face. "Buffy, it's time to go."

Buffy sniffled, her tears mingling with the reflection staring back at her in the mirror. "I don't want to go," she admitted, her voice fragile with the burden of sorrow.

Kneeling down beside her, Willow mirrored Buffy's pain with empathetic eyes. "Why not?" she asked, her tone gentle, inviting Buffy to share the weight that burdened her heart.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Because if I go..." Piper confided in her husband, her voice laced with a fragile vulnerability, "that'll mean that Prue's really not coming back, and I don't think I can handle that."

Leo's face softened as he reached out to gently grasp Piper's hand. "We can handle it together," he reassured her, his eyes reflecting both love and understanding.

Piper shook her head in response to his comforting words. "She's been there my whole life. I've always had a big sister. And... And I don't know how to live without one..."

"Piper..." Leo began, his heart aching for the woman he loved and the pain she carried.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

When Willow extended a comforting touch towards Buffy, expecting a shared moment of solace, Buffy instinctively pulled away. "Why couldn't Dad save her?" Buffy's voice quivered with a mixture of grief and frustration.

"He tried," Willow responded, recognizing that Buffy was referring to Leo's attempts to save Prue. The weight of unspoken emotions lingered in the room, each word a poignant reminder of the helplessness they felt in the face of tragedy.

"But he didn't. Why didn't they let us save her, too?" Buffy's question hung heavy in the air, an inquiry that echoed the profound sense of loss and the lingering shadow of unanswered questions.

"I don't know, Buffy," Willow admitted, her shoulders slumping in a helpless shrug. The sorrow etched on her face mirrored Buffy's pain. "I wish I did."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"The Elders?" Leo shook his head sadly, his eyes reflecting the weight of the revelation. "They couldn't. They don't have that kind of power."

Angrily, Piper stood up, a surge of frustration propelling her away from him in search of something, anything, to quell the rising tide of emotions. She grabbed a Kleenex, the action a small attempt to regain composure. "Then what the hell good are they?"

Leo followed her, his concern evident in every step. "It's okay to be angry—"

"I'm not angry. I am pissed off! Don't you understand?" Piper's voice wavered with a mix of fury and grief. "You healed the wrong sister! You saved me because I'm your damn wife, and you should've saved her because she was the best! Because she—you should—" As Piper became overcome with more grief, Leo moved to her side, reaching out to offer solace.

"Why do they put us through so much for it to end this way?" Piper's voice cracked, the question a desperate plea for answers that seemed forever out of reach. In the embrace of Leo's arms, she let her tears flow, a torrent of emotions unleashed.

Buffy, sensing the intensity of the moment, walked into the room. Piper, overcome by her grief, pulled away from Leo's arms. Buffy and Piper, bound by the profound loss of their sister, fell into each other's arms. Sobbing, they found solace in the shared pain, the weight of their collective grief bridging the gap between them. In that moment, the room echoed with the raw emotion of mourning, a sacred space where the sisters leaned on each other for support, seeking comfort in the midst of a reality that had crumbled before them.

Leo's gaze shifted toward the doorway, and he noticed Willow standing there, an observer to the shared grief unfolding in the room. He nodded toward the redheaded witch, acknowledging her presence, and moved over to her. "How are you?" he asked quietly, understanding the weight of the loss they were all grappling with.

"It's still hard to believe Prue is gone," Willow admitted, her eyes flickering towards Piper and Buffy, who were immersed in their shared sorrow. The room felt heavy with the weight of mourning. "I visited Faith in prison after you all got the notification of Prue's body being released to you. I told Faith what happened. She sends her condolences."

Leo's expression softened at Willow's words, appreciating the gesture of support from an unexpected source. "Thank you, Willow," he responded, a quiet gratitude in his tone. In the midst of the collective sorrow, the acknowledgment of condolences from Faith offered a reminder that, despite the complexities of their lives, they were not alone in their pain.

Underworld

A darkly cloaked figure, The Source, materialized in front of the shadowy figure known as the Oracle. The enigmatic ambiance surrounding them seemed to bow to the presence of these supernatural entities. "May I be seen?" the Oracle asked with a tone that resonated with ancient wisdom.

The Source's voice, a commanding force that echoed around them, replied, "Have you found Belthazor?"

"No, something else..." the Oracle trailed off, her mysterious aura suggesting that what she had discovered held an even greater significance.

The Source considered her revelation, his dark eyes narrowing as he contemplated the implications. In a calculated move, he turned and waved his clawed hand at the Oracle. From the depths of the shadows, a creepy yet undeniably alluring young woman materialized. She delicately stroked her ever-present crystal ball, an eerie symbol of her mystical abilities. "Something more important, perhaps," she intoned, her voice carrying an otherworldly resonance.

"Nothing is more important," The Source declared, his authority echoing in the ethereal space.

The Oracle, sensing an opportunity to provoke intrigue, tilted her head slightly. "Not even The Charmed Ones?"

"The Charmed Ones are dead," the Source declared with an air of finality, his dark presence filling the space with an ominous energy.

"Not all of them," the Oracle countered, her voice carrying a note of subtle defiance.

"One gone ends the threat. Of course, if you had foreseen that a Whitelighter was going to help Belthazor save his witch and the Slayer, they'd all be gone. Be grateful I don't turn you into a snake," the Source threatened, his words laden with the power to command the very essence of existence.

The Oracle, undeterred by the veiled menace, gave him a nervous smile. "Yes..." she acknowledged, the weight of her predicament evident, "But then how would you see into the future without me?"

"Without the Charmed Ones to worry about anymore, I may not need to," the Source mused, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he contemplated a world devoid of the formidable witches who had long thwarted his plans.

"Mmm, well, in that case..." A sly smile crept across the Oracle's lips, a calculated playfulness betraying her confidence. "You'd better keep me around a little while longer."

The Source turned back to the Oracle, his piercing gaze fixed upon her as she peered into the swirling depths of her crystal ball. Whisps of smoke curled and coiled within its depths, revealing glimpses of the mystical tapestry that intertwined fate and destiny.

"What do you see?" The Source demanded, his voice resonating with an authoritative urgency.

"I see... a witch's call on the spirit winds. I see... another." The Oracle's words were measured, her tone tinged with an aura of mystique. She hesitated for a moment, as if grappling with the weight of her revelation. Then, with a determined gaze, she met the Source's eyes. "I also see the Slayer."

"What do you mean?" The Source questioned, his curiosity mingling with a hint of suspicion.

"The bonds of sisterhood have caused the Power of Three to expand. If the other is allowed to join them, then with the Slayer, they will be even more powerful, for the Slayer is now a Charmed One," the Oracle explained, her words carrying the weight of prophecy and consequence.

The revelation hung in the air, a harbinger of change and potential upheaval in the intricate balance of supernatural forces. The Source, considering the implications, recognized the potential threat posed by the Slayer becoming a Charmed One.

Memorial Cemetery

Prue lay in the exquisite ivory-colored coffin, her serene form a stark contrast to the sea of mourning flowers enveloping her. The air hung heavy with the fragrance of lilies and roses, a bittersweet scent that intertwined with the sorrowful atmosphere. The ivory-dressed Wiccan Priestess, a somber guardian of the mystical rites, stood with poise before a deep blue silk-covered altar table, where a ceremonial chalice gleamed with ethereal grace.

A silver cord, intricately tied, lay before the chalice, its symbolism woven into the very fabric of the farewell ritual—birth, death, and the promise of rebirth. The trio of candles flickered with a solemn dance, casting shadows that whispered tales of a life lived and a journey beyond. To those unversed in the mystical arts, the ceremony appeared like a fusion of tradition and New Age mystique, a captivating dance between the tangible and the otherworldly.

The funeral program, bearing the symbol of the triquetra above the cherished name, served as a guide through the labyrinth of emotions. The printed words whispered a tale of a beloved sister who graced the world from 1970 to 1999, leaving an indelible mark eternally etched in the hearts of those who held her dear. "Forever in our Hearts," a phrase that echoed through the hallowed space, a balm for the grieving souls seeking solace.

Piper, Buffy, Phoebe, Leo, Cole, Darryl, and Victor occupied the front row, a gathering of intertwined destinies brought together by a shared loss. Each face bore the weight of grief, the depth of their connection to Prue evident in the tear-streaked faces and the silent exchanges that spoke volumes.

As the girls dabbed at their eyes, their grief palpable in the quivering of lips and the unspoken ache in their chests, Cole remained vigilant. His watchful eyes scanned the surroundings, a silent guardian protecting the sanctity of this final farewell.

"That which belongs to fellowship and love, that which belongs to the circle, remains with us," the priestess intoned, her voice a gentle caress that echoed through the somber air. The sacred words resonated with the ancient energy of the ceremony, a rhythmic cadence that spoke of continuity and the eternal dance of life. "The wheel turns. As life is a day, so our sister has passed into night."

In the sacred space where grief met mysticism, the priestess continued, her words a bridge between the tangible and the ethereal. "Nothing is final, and we who remain behind know that one day, we will once again share the bread and wine with our sister. O' blessed spirit, we bid you farewell, for you await a new destiny." The echoes of her voice lingered, a melody of hope woven into the fabric of sorrow.

With a reverence befitting the moment, the priestess delicately untied the silver cord, a symbol of the interconnectedness of life and death. With a measured grace, she laid it into the chalice, a ritual act that marked the transition from one realm to the next. The three candles, flickering guardians of the triad, were extinguished, their glow fading like stars surrendering to the dawn.

As the final ember vanished, the mourners rose from their seats, the weight of grief lifted momentarily by the shared acknowledgment of love and loss. The air buzzed with a subdued energy as they formed a line to offer condolences to the grieving family.

Darryl, a pillar of strength, was the first to approach, his embrace a silent reassurance that transcended words. Each mourner, in turn, shared a handshake or an embrace, their expressions a mosaic of empathy and shared sorrow. Giles, Willow, Xander, and Angel followed, a united front of support. Angel, shielded from the daylight by Leo's magic, stood in solidarity with the others.

In a poignant moment, the four friends encircled Buffy, pulling her into a collective embrace that spoke of unspoken bonds and shared burdens. Giles, the wise mentor, whispered words of comfort into Buffy's ear. "Take as much time as you need. We're all going to pitch in and patrol for you."

Buffy, a beacon of strength, smiled sadly in acknowledgment. "Thank you."

Paige, with an anxious yet compassionate demeanor, approached Phoebe. Her eyes softened with genuine sorrow as she conveyed her condolences. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Thank you." Phoebe nodded in acknowledgment, her eyes still moist with the remnants of tears. A flicker of curiosity danced in her gaze as Paige turned to leave, a silent inquiry yearning to be voiced. "How did you know Prue? Work?"

Paige paused, a subtle uncertainty clouding her features as she shrugged. "Oh, no. Just... just from around, you know." The casual response held an enigmatic quality, leaving Phoebe caught in a web of intrigue and unanswered questions.

The persistent itch of curiosity compelled Phoebe to delve further. "Have we met before?" Her gaze lingered on Paige, searching for a connection that eluded the conscious mind.

"No. I don't—I don't think so," Paige replied, her throat clearing with a hint of unease. "Anyway, my condolences." The condolences were offered with a sincerity that hinted at shared sorrow, yet the mystery surrounding Paige lingered like an elusive shadow.

Phoebe nodded in gratitude, her appreciation mirrored in the silent exchange of glances. "Thank you." As their hands met in a shake, an unexpected surge of energy coursed through Phoebe. The world around her blurred, and in an instant, a vivid premonition unfolded.

Paige stood on a towering skyscraper rooftop helipad, the cityscape stretching out beneath her like a concrete labyrinth. A sudden wave of terror gripped Paige as she screamed, her eyes tightly shut against the impending danger. The demon Shax materialized, a malevolent force ready to unleash chaos. A concussive blast erupted from Shax, hurtling toward Paige with lethal intent.

After the premonition released its grip on Phoebe's senses, she found herself suddenly plummeting to the floor, the force of the vision leaving her breathless and disoriented. Gasping for air, she clutched at her chest as the weight of the revelation reverberated through her entire being. Buffy, standing beside her, immediately gasped in worry, her eyes widening with concern. Without hesitation, she knelt down to Phoebe's side, offering a steadying presence in the aftermath of the supernatural onslaught.

"Goddess, Phoebe," Buffy murmured, a mixture of worry and compassion etched across her face. Helping Phoebe to her feet, she questioned with genuine concern, "Are you o—"

Phoebe, still reeling from the intensity of the premonition, gripped onto Buffy almost painfully. Her eyes, now filled with a mix of distress and determination, met Buffy's. "I saw him."

"Saw who?" Willow inquired, her brows furrowing in confusion as she observed the unfolding scene.

"The demon that killed Prue," Phoebe finished, her voice carrying the weight of the revelation like a heavy burden. The gravity of her words hung in the air, casting a shadow over the already somber atmosphere of the mausoleum.

"What?" Buffy's eyes widened with a mix of disbelief and horror. "You saw Shax?" The mere mention of the demon's name sent a shiver down Buffy's spine, a haunting reminder of the tragic events that had befallen their circle not long ago.

"What was he doing?" Giles questioned, a furrow of concern etching his forehead as he approached the middle Halliwell. Phoebe, still catching her breath from the overwhelming premonition, pointed urgently. Her eyes darted around, searching for Paige, but in the eerily empty mausoleum, they were the sole witnesses to the unfolding drama.

"He was killing that girl!" Phoebe exclaimed, a sense of urgency gripping her as she relayed the grim details of the premonition.

Piper, her eyes widening with a mix of disbelief and worry, shook her head. "What girl?"

"The one I was just talking to." Phoebe's voice trembled with a mixture of fear and determination. "We've got to go find her—"

"I'll go check," Xander volunteered, a decisive edge to his voice as he swiftly moved past Phoebe. Giles, with his characteristic composure, was quick to follow, their collective concern propelling them out of the mausoleum in pursuit of answers.

Suddenly, the air crackled with malevolent energy as two bounty hunter demons materialized in front of the Halliwells, Leo, Willow and Angel. The unexpected apparition sent a ripple of tension through the air, an ominous precursor to the chaos that was about to unfold.

The first demon, fueled by malicious intent, unleashed bolts of lightning directly at Cole, who stood protectively beside Phoebe. Reacting with instinctive speed, Phoebe threw her hands up and deftly moved out of harm's way. Cole, displaying a quicksilver agility, dodged the deadly bolts, narrowly avoiding the electrifying onslaught. The bolts, however, found their mark and struck the altar, erupting it into a burst of destructive energy.

The second demon, with ruthless efficiency, fired two bolts of lightning—one aimed at Cole, another at Willow, who stood closest to him.

Buffy, fueled by an instinct to protect, dove in front of Willow and Cole as the fireball formed in her hand. With a swift and precise motion, she flung it at the lightning bolt hurtling towards Willow, the collision erupting in a small explosion that momentarily illuminated the mausoleum. The triumphant burst of flames, however, was short-lived, as Buffy found herself unable to react in time for the second shot aimed at Cole. The lightning bolt struck her chest with unforgiving force, sending her hurtling backward into one of the Jesus statues, her body falling limp and unconscious.

Piper, her heart gripped by a potent mix of grief and worry, gasped at the sight of her baby sister's blood spreading around her. "Buffy!"

"No!" Victor's voice carried a desperate plea as he, Leo, Angel, and Piper bolted over to Buffy with a sense of urgency. Panic etched lines of fear on their faces as they gathered around the fallen Slayer, fear gripping their hearts at the possibility of losing her.

"Buffy?" Angel's voice wavered with a mix of dread and concern as he knelt beside her, his eyes locked on her still form. "Oh, no."

Without a moment's hesitation, Leo swiftly placed his hands over Buffy's bloody wound. Golden rays of healing energy emanated from his hands, weaving a restorative spell that worked swiftly to mend the damage. The blood-stained wound began to close, and Buffy gasped awake just as Leo enveloped her in a tight, relieved hug. The tension in the air lifted as the healing magic worked its transformative touch, sparing Buffy from the brink of mortal danger.

Meanwhile, Cole, having rolled into view of the bounty hunters, seized the opportunity for retaliation. With a clean shot, he unleashed his powers and vanquished the first two demons. However, a third materialized behind him, threatening to disrupt the fragile balance of the confrontation. Phoebe, displaying her prowess in martial arts, sprinted forward and expertly knocked the demon to the ground. Seeking refuge behind a nearby statue, she braced herself for the inevitable retaliation, a fierce determination etched on her face as she stood ready to face the next wave of supernatural adversaries.

Piper's eyes, clouded with a mixture of anger and grief, bore witness to the chaotic confrontation unfolding before her. "Stop it," she spat out the words, her frustration palpable as the mausoleum became a battleground for forces beyond her control.

The bounty hunter, undeterred by Piper's plea, spun around with deadly intent, targeting Phoebe with a lethal strike. However, before the malevolent force could release its fury, Cole, quick on the draw, fired an energy ball that collided with the demon. In a spectacular burst of fiery sparks, the bounty hunter was obliterated, but the recoil from the explosion sent Cole tumbling backward into the ceremonial chairs, the impact leaving him sprawled in an awkward and painful heap.

"Stop it!" Piper's voice rose in a crescendo of frustration, her anger echoing through the hallowed space. "Stop it! Stop it, damn it! This is Prue's funeral, for God's sake! Can't we at least bury her in peace?!" The weight of grief mingled with the searing fury, and Piper, unable to bear the desecration of her sister's farewell, turned on her heel. Tears streaked down her face as she stormed out of the mausoleum, the echo of her anguished plea reverberating in the silence that followed.

"Is that too much to ask?!" Her words hung in the air, a desperate cry for respite from the relentless turmoil that had infiltrated the sacred space.

Halliwell Manor

After checking on a still very upset Piper, Buffy tensely watched the mourners walk around. She kept her face blank as she willed back the tears that threatened to spill over. A dull headache was starting to form at her temple from the events that surrounded their family. 'Demons couldn't even let us mourn in peace after taking our sister,' she thought to herself, a bitter taste of resentment lingering in her heart.

"How are you feeling?" came Leo's voice, breaking through the heavy silence that hung in the air.

"Dad!" Buffy cried, her voice tinged with a mix of frustration and grief. Her father's voice had startled her enough to have her swinging around and glaring at him and Cole. "Don't do that!" she begged, her nerves raw and exposed.

"Sorry." Offering a worried smile, he put his hands up, "Just thought I'd check on you. I take it not too well?"

"What do you think?" Buffy huffed, her words carrying the weight of sorrow, a bitter symphony echoing in her voice. "I just—I can't get what happened out of my head. It's like glued in there. Prue..." Her voice broke, and a tear slid down her face, a poignant testament to the ocean of emotions threatening to drown her.

Leo, sensing his daughter's anguish, pulled her into his arms. The warmth of his embrace provided a fleeting moment of solace amidst the overwhelming grief that enveloped them. "It's okay," he whispered into her ear, his words a gentle balm to the wounds of loss.

Cole motioned with a worried frown. "Phoebe's running around cleaning."

"Yeah, that's how she deals," Buffy admitted, her gaze following Phoebe's frenetic movements. "She likes to fidget... and clean."

Phoebe walked over to them with a disappointed look after handing a woman a plate. "I don't see her anywhere."

Buffy frowned, her concern deepening. "Who?"

"The girl from my premonition," Phoebe answered, her voice a murmur laced with uncertainty.

A passing mourner, overhearing that, looked at her with wide eyes, the weight of curiosity mingling with the sorrow that hung in the air. Leo quickly assessed the situation and, with a protective instinct, pulled Phoebe to the stairs where they could talk freely. "Phoebe, you've got to be more careful."

Phoebe let out a tight breath, her apology hanging in the air like a fragile thread. "I'm sorry."

Cole met his girlfriend's eyes, concern etched across his face. "You sure you don't recognize her from anywhere?"

"Well... She did look familiar, like I've seen her somewhere before, but..." Phoebe shook her head as another worried look filled her face. "Somehow we've got to find her before nightfall, or else..."

"Honey..." Cole said, his voice a mixture of understanding and anxiety. When Phoebe slid a flower vase over an inch, then back again, he gently took her arm with a concerned look. "What are you doing?"

"Uh, I'm cleaning," Phoebe answered, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for something to set right.

"You don't clean." Cole raised a brow, his words a gentle reminder of the familiar patterns in their lives. "You hate cleaning."

"I know..." Phoebe let out a breath of suppressed emotion that had Buffy taking her hand and squeezing it. The unspoken solidarity between the two was a lifeline, a silent understanding that sometimes holding on to routine, even if it was cleaning, was the only thing preventing the unraveling of their grief-stricken hearts. "But it's better than falling apart, isn't it?"

"Maybe you should just try and focus on the girl," Leo instructed, his voice a steady guide in the midst of emotional turbulence. "You said she was attacked on a rooftop?"

"Yeah, one with a helipad, but it's a tall building…" Phoebe frowned, her mind working to piece together the fragmented details. "Although, there were a lot of taller ones around it."

"Okay," Leo said, his thoughts swiftly turning to action, "so we just need to figure out which building it was before Shax does."

Buffy huffed, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms, her impatience surfacing like a storm. "Pardon me, but who gives a flying leap?"

Phoebe turned to Buffy with furrowed brows, as did the guys, a collective confusion lingering in the air. "Buffy—"

"No." Buffy scoffed, her frustration palpable. "Let's just forget that this demon killed our sister, Phoebe. Which is enough to leave him the hell alone as it is." She shook her head, a bitter taste of resentment lingering in her words. "But we can't defeat him. He's way too powerful. We need the Power of Three Augmented. And we don't have that."

"Buffy's right," Piper agreed as she walked over and stood next to Buffy, a shared grief etched on both their faces. "You can't defeat Shax, not without the Power of Three Augmented. Not without Prue."

Phoebe looked between her sisters, her eyes pleading for an alternative solution. "But you and Prue did defeat him."

"That's because Prue was the strongest," Piper told Phoebe, her voice tinged with a mix of nostalgia and sorrow. "Trying to do it without her would be suicide."

"Yeah, suicide," Buffy agreed, her words echoing the harsh reality they faced without Prue's formidable strength.

"Maybe so, but I got that premonition for a reason," Phoebe told her sisters, her voice determined. "That girl is our innocent, so we have to try and save her."

"Says who?" Piper glared, her eyes ablaze with defiance.

"Why do we have to?" Buffy added, her frustration echoing Piper's sentiments.

Leo looked at his wife and daughter sadly, the weight of their grief and exhaustion etched across their faces. "Piper… Buffy…"

"What?" Buffy said, her glare intensifying as she directed it at her father.

"Do you really expect us to keep doing this stuff after what happened? To keep risking our lives?" Piper's voice rose, the anger in her tone a manifestation of the pain that ran deep. The wounds of loss were still raw, and the thought of facing more danger only fueled her resentment.

"Do they?" Buffy added, her voice rising as well, a bitter edge cutting through her words. "I'm tired of putting my life on the line and for what. The people I care about get taken from me. First Mom and now Prue."

"Piper… Buffy…" Leo looked around at the curious eyes looking over. "Keep your voices down."

"No, Leo, we won't. Neither Buffy nor I want to do this anymore, okay?" Piper told her husband, her voice filled with a mix of defiance and exhaustion. "It—It's over! You can tell them that we buried their precious Charmed Ones…"

"…and Charmed Slayer…" Buffy interjected with a bitterness that echoed her pain.

"…When we buried our sister," Piper finished, her words cutting through the air like a declaration of liberation.

"You can tell whoever that they can wait for another Slayer to be called in, say about sixty or so years," Buffy added, her tone a stark rejection of the destiny that had claimed too much from their lives.

When Buffy and Piper spun around and stalked up the stairs, Leo went to follow. Phoebe quickly took his arm and shook her head. "No, let them go. They just need a little time." She sighed as she looked at Leo and Cole. "I don't know where we go from here, but I do know that I can't let that girl die... Especially not by the same demon that killed Prue."

"The question remains..." Cole cocked his head. "How are you going to stop Shax without the Power of Three Augmented to say the vanquishing spell?"

"I'm hoping that a demon and a witch fighting together might be enough." Phoebe looked at Cole, a glimmer of determination in her eyes. "Interested?"

Cole pursed his lips, contemplating the risky proposition. "Why not?" he sighed as he leaned on the archway. "It's better than sitting around waiting for the next bounty hunter to attack."

"Who's going to tell dad, Buffy, and Piper?" Phoebe asked, her gaze scanning the room for volunteers. "Any takers?"

Leo's eyes held a mixture of determination and concern as he affirmed, "I'll take care of Buffy and Piper. You focus on what needs to be done."

Phoebe's gaze met Leo's, gratitude shining in her eyes as she nodded in agreement. "That leaves me, Dad."

Phoebe and Cole moved towards Victor, who was engrossed in conversation with a friend, a fleeting moment of normalcy disrupted by the impending chaos. The conversation halted as they approached, Victor turning his attention to them. "Excuse us, Aaron," Phoebe said, gently pulling Victor aside, creating a pocket of privacy amid the turmoil. "We have to go. Will you be okay?"

Victor's brow furrowed with concern, lines etching onto his weathered face. "Go?" he questioned, his eyes searching for answers. "Go where?"

Cole met Victor's gaze, a sense of secrecy underlying his words. "Trust me," he said, his tone carrying a weight of mystery. "You don't want to know."

"But..." Victor started, uncertainty in his voice. Phoebe reassured him, her fingers squeezing his arm, a small smile masking the turbulence within. "We'll be fine, so don't worry too much." She knew it was a lie, an attempt to shield him from the harsh realities they were facing. Promising safety felt wrong in the aftermath of Prue's death, but Victor didn't need the added burden of worrying about another daughter falling victim to the chaos surrounding them.

Before Victor could react further, their attention shifted to the entrance of the house. Darryl walked in, accompanied by another man, another cop.

"Phoebe," Darryl greeted with a nod. "Victor. Sorry about this, but Inspector Cortez insisted on meeting today."

Cortez joined them, offering his condolences with a somber expression. "I just wanted to extend my deepest sympathies."

"Thank you," Phoebe expressed her gratitude, her voice carrying a mix of sincerity and weariness.

Victor's protective instinct flared, and he placed a firm hand on Phoebe's shoulder, shooting a stern look at the cop. "Thanks," he said, the word holding a hint of both appreciation and a silent warning.

Cole nodded, breaking the tension in the air. "I'll get the car," he declared, excusing himself to carry out the task at hand.

Darryl surveyed the surroundings, concern etched on his face. "Where's Buffy and Piper?" he inquired, his eyes searching for any signs of the absent sisters.

"Resting," Phoebe replied smoothly, a lie slipping off her tongue effortlessly. "They're not feeling well."

Understanding crossed Cortez's face, a knowing look that spoke of shared experiences and unspoken understanding. "Understandable. I lost a sister once myself. I know how hard it is. We're going to find the monster who did this to your sister. I promise both of you this." Phoebe and Darryl exchanged a look. Cortez, observant as ever, noticed the unspoken communication. "Something I said?"

"No, uh..." Phoebe shook her head, her eyes reflecting a mix of grief and discomfort. "It's just the word... Monster."

"Well, that's what he was. How else do you describe somebody so vicious?" Cortez's voice held a stern resolve, a firmness that spoke of his commitment to justice.

"I get it," Phoebe acknowledged with a solemn nod, her tone conveying a shared understanding. "And I agree, but, uh, this just isn't the place that we want to discuss that. We're mourning."

Cortez's expression softened slightly, recognizing the delicate balance between justice and compassion. "I understand. Which is why I'm here. We have to stop him before he strikes again."

"I couldn't agree more." Determination flashed in Phoebe's eyes, a fierce resolve to protect others from the same fate. "If you'll excuse me, Inspector..." She began to walk towards the door, but her path was halted by Cortez.

"I know what a difficult time this is for you, but we really need to talk," Cortez insisted, his words carrying the weight of urgency and responsibility.

Phoebe threw a meaningful look toward her father, a silent plea for understanding and support. Victor, sensing the need to shield his grieving daughter from further stress, stepped in with a measured tone. "But not now," he said, his voice carrying a protective edge.

Cortez, though initially caught off guard by the interruption, quickly assessed the situation. "Of course..." he replied, giving Victor a measured nod. "Sorry." The inspector's gaze lingered on Victor for an uncomfortable moment, the unspoken acknowledgment of the grief that hung in the air. Despite the urgency of his duty, Cortez respected the delicate balance between the pursuit of justice and the need for compassion.

With a nod, Cortez stepped aside, creating a path for Phoebe to leave.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Piper and Buffy moved with purpose, their anger fueling the determination etched on their faces as they placed the last of the five lit candles in a loose circle on the floor in front of the family's Book of Shadows. The room flickered with the dim light of the candles, casting shadows that danced across the walls like spectral echoes.

"We're witches, damn it. We've summoned people before, and we're going to summon Prue now whether you like it or not!" Piper declared, her gaze shooting defiantly towards the ceiling. "No more games, no more playing the good witch."

Rushing over to the family's Book, already opened to a spell, Buffy joined Piper, the gravity of their desperation evident in her words. "We want to talk to our sister. We need to talk to our sister. At the very least, you owe us that."

Taking a collective breath, the sisters locked eyes, their shared determination flowing through them. "'Hear these words. Hear my cry, spirit from the other side. Come to me, I summon thee. Cross now the Great Divide,'" they chanted in unison.

Within the circle, the air shimmered with white magical lights, a manifestation of their collective power. Piper and Buffy looked up, the anger in their eyes transforming into a hopeful wonder as the lights slowly coalesced. They stepped closer, anticipating Prue's ethereal presence, only to be met with a surprising twist.

"Grams?" they both exclaimed in surprise, their voices a mixture of disbelief and awe. The ghostly figure before them was not Prue, but the familiar spirit of their grandmother.

"Hello, my darlings." Grams greeted them with a bittersweet smile, her eyes reflecting a deep understanding of the pain etched across their faces. "How are you?"

"How are we? Are you kidding?" Piper's frustration spilled out. "Do you guys not get the news up there?"

"I meant, how are you both holding up?" Grams clarified, her tone carrying both concern and a knowing empathy.

"Not very well," Buffy admitted, her guard momentarily dropping. "We're both a little lost. Why didn't you come before? When we called after..."

"I couldn't, Piper… Buffy. I was..." Confliction filled Grams' expression, a mix of regret and a hint of secrecy. "Busy."

Piper raised an eyebrow, her skepticism evident. "You were busy?"

"I was with Prue," Grams elaborated, the revelation hanging in the air.

"Oh..." Buffy and Piper uttered in unison, their expressions shifting between surprise and understanding.

Piper cleared her throat, her skepticism temporarily replaced by a mix of acceptance and sorrow. "Of course you were."

"Right, well, that makes sense," Buffy added, her voice carrying a blend of sadness and hope that mirrored the emotions playing across their faces. "Is she okay?"

Grams sighed, a heaviness in her gaze as she revealed, "Patty, Patience, and I are helping her through this."

"But how is she?" Piper pressed for more details, the concern evident in her eyes.

"I'm not allowed to tell you now..." Grams frowned, her expression revealing the constraints of the afterlife. "Just like you two are not allowed to see her, at least not for a while anyway."

"But... Why?" Buffy questioned, her brows furrowing with confusion and frustration.

"Because seeing Prue right now, speaking to her, keeps her alive for the two of you. Which keeps you both from being able to move on with your lives, to continue with your destiny," Grams explained, her words heavy with the weight of spiritual wisdom.

"What destiny?" Piper scoffed, her voice tinged with bitterness. "It's over. It's done. Prue is gone."

"Yeah, I quit," Buffy added, wrapping an arm around her eldest sister. "I'm not going to be the Charmed Slayer anymore, not when this is the cost."

"I know, sweeties, I know... but if there's one thing you both have learned over the last three years, it's that there's a reason for everything... Which means there's a reason for this, too. Your destiny still awaits. Blessed be." Grams' words hung in the air like a gentle mantra, a reminder of the mystical forces that guided their lives.

Without any more of an explanation, Grams disappeared in the same swirl of white lights that brought her to Piper and Buffy. The room returned to its somber stillness, leaving the sisters grappling with the cryptic nature of their destiny and the painful sacrifices that accompanied it.

Underworld

The Source materialized in a fiery display, his imposing presence casting an eerie glow across the dark cavern. "Anything?"

The Oracle, still coiled around her smoke-filled crystal ball, lifted her gaze from the swirling depths. "Unfortunately, since the last attack, Belthazor has been very elusive-"

"Leave Belthazor to the bounty hunters. What about the other?" The Source's voice rumbled with impatience.

"Her future is becoming much more clear." The Oracle's tone took on an air of confidence as she waved her hand over the crystal ball, summoning mystical energies. "And, it appears, short-lived..."

As the Oracle worked her magic, the crystal ball displayed swirling smoke that gradually coalesced into the image of a dancing woman—Paige.

Halliwell Manor

Leo quietly entered Buffy's dimly lit bedroom, the soft glow of the moon casting a gentle light across the room. He found her sitting on the edge of the bed, a solitary figure staring out into the night. The shadows played on the walls, emphasizing the solemn atmosphere that hung in the air. Her expression, etched with a mixture of grief and exhaustion, spoke volumes about the emotional burden she carried.

"Buffy," he spoke softly, careful not to startle her. She turned to look at him, her eyes reflecting the pain that lingered in her heart.

"Hey, Dad," she greeted him with a faint smile, an attempt to mask the turmoil within. The moonlight revealed traces of tears that had fallen, silent witnesses to the weight of her emotions.

Leo approached her, the creaking of the floorboards beneath his steps almost muted by the heaviness of the moment. He sensed the need for comfort in the air, the unspoken plea for understanding and solace. "How are you holding up?"

Buffy sighed, her shoulders slumping as if bearing the weight of the world. "I don't know. It's just hard, you know? Losing Prue, dealing with all this supernatural stuff. It's like a never-ending nightmare."

Leo took a seat beside her, offering a supportive presence. The room seemed to cocoon them in its quiet sorrow. "I can't imagine how difficult it is for you," he admitted, his voice a gentle reassurance. "Losing a sister, facing the unknown. But you're not alone in this. We're here for you, and we'll find a way to get through it together."

She nodded, appreciating his understanding. "I just wish it didn't have to be so complicated. I miss her, Dad. And this destiny stuff, it's overwhelming."

He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, a silent acknowledgment of the pain they shared. "I know it is, Buffy. But you're stronger than you realize. And your friends, they care about you. We'll navigate this together, one step at a time."

Santa Clara Women's Correctional

Faith sat alone in her dimly lit prison cell, the cold and sterile surroundings amplifying the isolation she felt. The harsh reality of her choices weighed heavily on her, but tonight, her thoughts were consumed by someone else—Buffy.

As she stared at the cold, unforgiving walls, Faith couldn't shake the image of Buffy's grief from her mind. She could picture the pain etched on Buffy's face, the heaviness in her eyes, and the weight of the world on her shoulders. A deep ache settled in Faith's chest as she reflected on the magnitude of the loss they both shared.

"Buffy, I wish I could be there for you," Faith whispered to the emptiness of her cell, the words echoing in the confined space.

In the quiet of the prison cell, Faith closed her eyes, attempting to bridge the physical distance that separated them. She pictured Buffy navigating a world without Prue, facing the supernatural challenges that seemed to never relent.

Payson's

Paige and Shane glided across the dance floor, caught in the rhythm of the music that pulsated through the crowded club. The vibrant energy of the hot band electrified the atmosphere, and as the song reached its crescendo, the crowd erupted into cheers. Paige and Shane, their bodies still swaying to the fading echoes of the music, made their way back to their table to catch their breath.

As they settled into their seats, Shane's concern became evident. His brows furrowed as he observed Paige's distracted and distant demeanor. "You alright?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

"Me? Yeah, why?" Paige replied, attempting to deflect his attention with a nonchalant smile.

"Well, you seem... a little quieter than usual. That's all." Shane's eyes searched hers for any signs of what might be bothering her.

Paige smirked at him, her attempt at a casual demeanor not entirely convincing. "What makes you think I'm not like this all the time?"

Shane raised an eyebrow, not entirely buying her act. "Well, we've been dating for a month now, so I think I'd know." His playful smirk tried to lighten the mood as he signaled to a passing waitress. "Hey, can we get a couple of long necks?"

"Sure," the waitress replied with a friendly smile before turning to leave the couple to their conversation.

Paige caught the waitress just in time, redirecting her attention. "Make mine a mineral water, please?"

"Mm-mmm," the waitress acknowledged with a nod, swiftly noting down the order.

"Thanks." Paige watched the waitress walk away, her gaze following until she turned back to Shane. "So much for how well you know me, cowboy. I don't drink. I used to have kind of a problem with certain liquids... A lot of problems, actually, but that's all behind me."

"Oh..." Shane's expression shifted to one of concern. "Do you want to go someplace else, or...?"

"No, no, no, I like it here." Paige chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood. "Gosh, I should. I've been coming, on and off, to Payson's since it was known as P4. I mean, ever since…"

Shane cocked his head in curiosity, a playful glint in his eyes. "Ever since what?"

"Oh, never mind. It's boring." Paige paused, but Shane's prying eyes persisted, coaxing her to share. "Alright, but if I tell you all about Paige and you use it against me, I will get out my voodoo doll and make you sorry you're a man." They both chuckled at the playful threat before she continued, her tone more serious. "So, my sad story is that I'm adopted. Only it's not so sad because I loved my parents, God rest. After they died, I went searching for my birth mother, hoping to get some answers."

As she spoke, Paige absentmindedly doodled on a napkin, the pen tracing patterns as memories unfolded in her mind. "I went to the police, found the church I got dumped at... and checked around. I figured she must've lived near here, you know? They even thought I might've been... related to the Halliwell sisters or their cousin for a minute, but the sisters' mom died a long time ago, and the cousin's mom died three years ago, so I gave up on that."

Shane leaned in, his interest piqued. "Well, did you ever meet them, ask them about it or..."

"Yeah right. 'Hi. I think one or the other of your moms might've abandoned me at birth. What's for dinner?'" Paige shook her head at the absurdity of the idea. "No. I don't think so."

Their conversation was momentarily interrupted as the waitress brought them their drinks. Paige leaned back, hoping to put an end to the painful topic, but Shane's curiosity lingered.

"So that still doesn't explain why you keep coming here..." Shane said, his eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and empathy.

"Well, one of the sisters...owns it, reportedly it's in trust for the cousin. So... I don't know. I guess I just kind of feel—connected somehow. That's why I went to the funeral today. I just felt like I had to." Paige rolled her eyes at herself, a self-deprecating smile playing on her lips. "Okay, I sound certifiably insane. Good job, Paige. Way to go."

Shane, touched by the vulnerability in her words, decided to silence any self-doubt by leaning in and giving her a tender kiss. She responded, allowing the warmth of the gesture to quiet the swirling emotions within her. As they pulled back, a soft vulnerability lingered in Paige's eyes.

"Don't hurt me, okay? I can't handle any more right now," she confessed, her voice a whisper carrying the weight of recent losses.

His response was another kiss, one that conveyed a depth of understanding and a silent promise. This one was deeper, more meaningful. Paige accepted it, allowing herself to be enveloped in the shared moment of solace and connection. As they parted for a second, they locked eyes, hers ablaze with a mix of emotions that danced between sorrow and newfound warmth.

"Come on." Paige motioned to him as she stood, a hint of excitement breaking through the heaviness. "I have something to show you."

Shane hurriedly tossed a twenty on the table, leaving payment for their drinks, and they left the crowded club. The night air greeted them as they stepped outside, the city's hum surrounding them. The cocktail napkin Paige had been absentmindedly doodling on revealed a drawing—a rough version of the moon and triquetra, the symbol of the Power of Three Augmented.

Skyscraper

Phoebe, swathed in layers within the dimly lit observation room, peered through the binoculars, her breath creating a mist on the cold glass. The city sprawled out before her like a sprawling tapestry, its twinkling lights obscured by the weight of the night. As Cole silently approached from behind, the chill in the air was momentarily forgotten as he handed her a steaming thermos of hot chocolate. She accepted it with a grateful smile, her fingers absorbing the warmth that the beverage promised.

"Thanks," she told him, her eyes never leaving the scene below. "I think this is the right place. But maybe we should try one of the other rooftops just to make sure."

"Or maybe we should follow your first instincts and stay right here," Cole suggested, his voice a comforting presence in the stillness of the room.

Phoebe sighed, torn between certainty and doubt. "Okay. But, what if I'm wrong? That girl will get killed," she admitted, turning to look at Cole, her eyes reflecting the concern etched on her face.

"You can't save every innocent, Phoebe, or stop every demon," Cole reminded her gently, his arms encircling her in a reassuring hug.

"Yeah. Well, I have to stop this one," Phoebe declared, her thoughts momentarily drifting to Prue, a flicker of determination in her gaze. "I just hope that by me saying the vanquishing spell, it wounds him enough that you can take him out."

Cole, his expression thoughtful, offered an alternative with a sly smile. "I got a better idea. How about you and I go someplace? You know? Drop off the face of the earth together, disappear?"

"Don't tempt me, Mr. Turner," Phoebe retorted playfully, a roll of her eyes accompanied by a small smile.

"Things have changed, Phoebe," Cole gently reminded his girlfriend, his eyes conveying a mix of concern and resolve. "We can't pretend we can go on like this. It's only a matter of time before the Source finds me, which means every minute you're with me, you're in danger."

"I've lost too much already, Cole," Phoebe interjected with a heavy sigh, her gaze locking onto his. "I'm not losing you too."

Cole, understanding the weight of her words, leaned in to kiss her, a silent acknowledgment of the shared burden they bore. As they pulled away, his eyes shifted beyond Phoebe, fixating on the neighboring building.

"Looks like your instincts were right," he observed, a note of approval in his voice.

Phoebe swiftly raised her binoculars to follow his gaze, spotting Paige entering the rooftop across the way with Shane. Panic flickered in her eyes, and she grabbed Cole's arm urgently.

"We've got to shimmer over there!" she insisted, the urgency in her tone betraying her concern.

"And tell her what?" Cole questioned, his head shaking slightly. "That a demon's going to attack? I think we should stay right here."

Phoebe sighed, the weight of truth settling upon her shoulders as she acknowledged that Cole was right. Returning her focus to the unfolding scene, she observed Paige, blissfully unaware of the impending danger, guiding Shane to the center of the helipad. As they reached the spot, Paige released his hand, spun around with arms outstretched, and gazed up at the stars. The night air was charged with a sense of romance as she removed her jacket, moving in for a kiss.

Unable to bear the tension any longer, Phoebe lowered her binoculars and turned to Cole, her expression serious. "Any ideas?"

A mischievous smirk played on Cole's lips. "A couple."

Phoebe, not in the mood for his playful antics, smacked him, eliciting a hearty laugh. "I meant about what we do now. I mean, we can't just keep watching; it's not right."

"You're right," Cole conceded, his amusement fading as he took the binoculars from Phoebe, scrutinizing the scene below. Nodding in agreement, he said, "We shouldn't just keep watching."

Phoebe, seizing the moment, blocked his view with her hand and maneuvered them both backward. "Okay, very good," she told him, retrieving the binoculars. Turning her attention back to the helipad, she gasped just as a swirling tornado materialized out of thin air, hurtling toward the unsuspecting lovers.

As the vortex enveloped the helipad, Shax emerged with an ominous presence, his dark figure casting a foreboding shadow over the scene. Paige, caught in the throes of romance only moments ago, opened her eyes just in time to witness the malevolent force behind her boyfriend. A chilling scream tore through the air as Shax unleashed a concussive blast, sending Shane hurtling backward, his body limp and unconscious.

Another scream escaped Paige's lips as Shax redirected his deadly energy toward her. The impending danger triggered a surge of fear, compelling her to instinctively orb out of harm's way. In the blink of an eye, she vanished, narrowly escaping the fatal blow, only to reappear in the vicinity with a gasp of disbelief. The surreal experience left Paige momentarily disoriented, but the urgency of the situation propelled her into action.

Shaking off her confusion, Paige pivoted and sprinted toward the rooftop access tower, her heart pounding with adrenaline. Shax, equally surprised by her ability to orb, transformed back into a tornado, trailing behind her with relentless determination.

"She orbed," Phoebe exclaimed in astonishment. "She orbed…" She turned to Cole, her eyes wide with disbelief. "Did you just see that?"

Cole, recognizing the gravity of the situation, grabbed Phoebe urgently before shimmering out. "Come on!"

Meanwhile, Paige descended the stairs onto the catwalk, the ominous sound of the approaching tornado echoing in her ears. She halted, glancing over her shoulder as the cyclone took form before her. Shax materialized, a malevolent figure ready to unleash havoc. However, the sudden shimmering entrance of Cole and Phoebe diverted Shax's attention, momentarily interrupting his assault.

Paige, stunned by the unexpected arrival of her sisters, turned just in time to witness the tail end of their shimmering escape. She stared at them in shock, confusion etched across her face. "What the hell?"

"Get out of here!" Phoebe demanded urgently, her voice carrying a blend of concern and authority. "Hurry! Go! Go!"

Cole unleashed a barrage of energy balls at Shax, each blast crackling with power, but the demon barely seemed fazed. The malevolent force of Shax continued to loom menacingly, unaffected by the onslaught. Panic etched across Paige's face as she sprinted up the stairs, seeking refuge from the escalating chaos.

Desperation etched on his face, Cole turned to Phoebe, his voice urgent. "Say the spell, damn it!"

Phoebe, her heart pounding with fear, began to recite the incantation with determination. "'Evil wind that blows, that which forms below. No longer may you dwell. Death takes you with this spell.'"

As the words left Phoebe's lips, Shax managed to retaliate, unleashing a concussive blast that sent Cole sprawling over the stairway rail. Groaning and writhing in agony, the grey demon transformed into a ghostly wind, streaking away from the scene.

Panic surged through Phoebe as she rushed to the edge, her voice strained with desperation. "Cole!"

In a heart-stopping moment, Cole plummeted five stories, the imminent danger of impact looming. Just before he could meet the ground, he recovered enough to shimmer out, reappearing right next to Phoebe on his feet. A gasp of relief escaped her as she threw herself into his arms, embracing him in a surge of raw emotion.

"That was too close..." Phoebe murmured, her voice trembling with the residual fear.

"It's okay, I'm alright," Cole reassured, his embrace offering a sense of security. "It's your innocent I'm worried about."

Halliwell Manor

Leo sat at the kitchen table, his brow furrowed with concern, as Phoebe and Cole recounted the harrowing events that unfolded at the observation deck. In the background, Piper and Buffy worked silently, the clinking of dishes serving as a backdrop to the tale of magic, danger, and the unexpected.

"Are you sure she orbed?" Leo questioned, his expression one of confusion as he turned his gaze toward Phoebe.

Phoebe, her eyes reflecting a mix of anxiety and certainty, responded, "Leo, she disappeared. Bright shiny lights came before she magically reappeared. What else could it be?"

Leo shook his head, struggling to reconcile the information. "It just doesn't make any sense."

Cole, his curiosity piqued, directed his gaze at Leo. "Why not?"

"Because why would Shax want to kill a Whitelighter?" Leo pondered aloud, his concern deepening as he grappled with the incongruity of the situation.

Cole's voice carried a note of skepticism, his words breaking the uneasy silence in the room. "Maybe he doesn't know she's a Whitelighter."

Leo responded with a scoff, his disbelief evident. "Right. The Source sends out his personal assassin, but doesn't know who he's after?"

In the background, the clattering of pots and pans served as an audible protest from Piper and Buffy, their actions echoing a subtle message to the trio engaged in conversation. Yet, Leo, Phoebe and Cole chose to pointedly ignore the eldest and youngest Halliwells.

Undeterred, Phoebe turned back to Leo, her eyes searching for answers in his expression. "Is it possible that she didn't know that she's a Whitelighter?"

Leo, puzzled by the notion, shook his head. "No. Why?"

"Because she acted as if she didn't," Cole interjected, emphasizing his point with a subtle motion of his hand. "She acted just as surprised as we were when she orbed out."

Leo's confusion deepened, his gaze shifting between Phoebe and Cole. "Well, that doesn't make any sense either," he admitted, the perplexity of the situation evident in his furrowed brow.

"Okay..." Phoebe said, her gaze steady on Leo. "Why don't you go up and ask the Elders what does make sense so we don't go risking our lives again?"

Leo glanced with concern at Piper and Buffy, who still seemed immersed in their task. "I'll be right back."

As Leo orbed out, Phoebe let out a heavy sigh, her hand covering her eyes as she hung her head. The weight of uncertainty bore down on her, the echoes of danger still reverberating through her senses.

"Maybe I should, uh..." Cole began, his concern etched on his face as he turned toward Phoebe. "Go to the other side and see what I can find out."

The stress in Phoebe's eyes deepened. "No."

"I'll be careful. Nobody'll see me. Besides, it could be good for me to go back down, to confuse any bounty hunters that might be trying to track me. Don't worry," Cole reassured, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on Phoebe's cheek before shimmering out. "I won't disappear."

Phoebe turned and walked closer to her sisters, her expression a mix of concern and empathy. "Hey, you two okay?"

Buffy's response was sharp, her words laced with frustration as she shot a glare at her middle sister. "Yeah, sure, why not?"

Piper, elbow-deep in soapy water, didn't mince words either. "We could have another funeral tomorrow," she added, the weight of recent losses evident in her voice. "I mean, all the dishes are out, and we pretty much know who to invite."

"Piper, Buffy—" Phoebe began, her attempt to ease the tension interrupted by the lingering grief that hung in the air.

"Just tell us one thing," Buffy demanded, holding a small white towel in her hands as she and Piper turned to face Phoebe. "Are you insane or are you just plain stupid?"

Piper, the frustration etched across her features, echoed the sentiment. "We bury Prue this morning, and you go off tonight and nearly join her," she exclaimed, her voice a mix of disbelief and anger. "What the hell is the matter with you?!"

"Piper, Buffy," Phoebe interjected, her tone earnest. "I was trying to save an innocent."

"No," Piper countered. "You were trying to get yourself killed, which is what this family does best is get killed."

Buffy, her frustration boiling over, threw the towel onto the counter in anger. "Isn't it obvious by now that our only destiny is to die? Or has my dying three times and Prue… You are making it way too easy for them."

"You are just walking right into it!" Piper added, her words cutting through the air with a mixture of concern and exasperation.

Feeling the weight of their emotions, Phoebe swiftly embraced both Buffy and Piper in a tight hug. "I am so sorry," she whispered, her voice filled with genuine remorse.

"Piper and I cannot handle anything right now, and we certainly cannot handle losing another sister!" Buffy said, her words choked with emotion as tears glistened on her cheeks.

June 15, 1999 – Tuesday

Bay Area Hospital

Paige stepped into Shane's hospital room, the sterile scent of antiseptic hitting her senses as she found him propped up in bed. His eyes lit up at the sight of her, a warmth emanating from his smile as she drew near.

"Paige," he greeted, his voice a gentle melody, "What happened?"

She responded with a sheepish smile, guilt shadowing her features. "Shane, I feel so bad..." Her voice carried the weight of remorse, a mix of regret and anxiety. "I just got so scared, and I ran."

Concern etched Shane's features as he reassured her, "Of course."

Her worry deepened, and she leaned in, genuine concern filling her eyes. "Are you alright? What'd they say?" Paige's proximity emphasized the sincerity in her inquiry.

"It's no big deal. Just a little concussion, but I'm gonna be fine. They wouldn't be releasing me if I wasn't, right?" Shane's reassuring smile softened the edges of his words as he reached for her hand, squeezing it comfortingly. "I'm just glad you're okay, too."

A breath escaped Paige, her gaze momentarily drifting away. "Yeah, well... Physically, anyway."

Shane's concern lingered, etching lines on his face as he asked, "Did you talk to the cops yet?"

"No..." Paige's brows furrowed, and she frowned, uncertainty in her expression. "Why?"

"Why? They want to find out who attacked us, that's why. I- I told them you saw him," Shane replied, urgency cutting through his voice like a knife.

Paige's eyes widened, the weight of Shane's revelation settling in. "You did what?"

"Well, you did," Shane's frown mirrored Paige's confusion. "Didn't you?"

Before Paige could respond, Cortez entered the room, his presence commanding attention. He smoothly inserted himself into their conversation, a no-nonsense expression on his face. "Did you?" When Paige swung around to look at him with a scowl, he introduced himself, "Inspector Cortez, homicide. I'd like to ask you a couple of questions."

"Wait, homicide?" Shane shook his head, a puzzled expression etched across his features. "No one was murdered."

"Based on the MO, if it's the same perpetrator I think it was, that just makes you lucky. He killed two people last week, violently..." Cortez's eyes met Paige's, the gravity of his words sinking in. "One of them a young woman who looked a little bit like you."

Paige's eyes widened in shock and sorrow, her voice barely a whisper. "Prue."

"Prue Halliwell." Cortez nodded, his gaze steady. "Did you know her?"

"No." Paige immediately shook her head, discomfort settling in. "No, not really."

"Well..." Shane interjected, earning a pointed look from his girlfriend, "In a way, you did, right?"

"What way was that?" Cortez pushed, "Were you friends of hers or friends of her sisters?"

"No, not friends-" Paige began.

"Then what?" At Paige's silence, Cortez pushed on, his detective instincts honing in on the subtle cues. "Okay, look, I know you know something. I can see it in your eyes. Just like I know they know something, too. If you're trying to protect them in any way, I'll find out."

Paige's glare hardened on him, a defiant spark in her eyes. "Well, in that case, I have nothing to worry about." She leaned over to kiss Shane, a mixture of determination and tenderness in the gesture. "You rest up. I'll be back." As she turned to leave, she nodded to Cortez. "Excuse me."

Halliwell Manor

Phoebe nestled herself on the plush rug beside the crackling fireplace, her eyes fixated on the dancing flames that seemed to carry stories of their own. The room was adorned with the warm glow of the fire, casting a comforting ambience that wrapped around her like a familiar embrace. The subtle snap and pop of burning wood echoed a soothing rhythm in the quiet space.

In a moment that felt like an unspoken connection, Piper emerged from the kitchen, cradling a steaming cup of chamomile tea. The aromatic fragrance wafted through the air, embracing Phoebe with a sense of tranquility. Piper settled gracefully beside her, offering the cup with a comforting smile that held unspoken understanding.

"Here, this should help. It's chamomile." She tried to inject a touch of humor into the heavy atmosphere, her lips forming a gentle smirk as she took her place on the floor beside Phoebe. "I had three cups."

Phoebe's lips curved in gratitude as she accepted the warm cup, the fragrant steam rising to kiss her face. "Thanks."

Just then, the air seemed to shimmer with shared memories as Buffy descended the staircase, a nostalgic picture in her hands. The three of them turned their attention to her, curious and receptive.

"Look what I found." Buffy's voice carried a hint of sentiment as she handed over the photograph. It captured a moment frozen in time, the four of them radiating a camaraderie that transcended the boundaries of the photograph. Prue's infectious smile adorned the image, her eyes reflecting a genuine happiness that lingered in the room.

"Oh yeah." Piper's chuckle held a mix of nostalgia and fondness. "Just after you moved in."

Phoebe's smile, though warm, held a tinge of melancholy as she tenderly passed the photograph back to Buffy. "Doesn't seem real, does it?"

Buffy's response was a gentle smile tinged with sadness, her eyes lingering on the captured moment. "No."

The weight of Prue's absence lingered in the room, casting a shadow on the conversation that followed. Piper, breaking the solemn quiet, took a deep breath, her eyes reflecting the unspoken challenges they now faced. "What are we going to do with all of her stuff?" Her gaze drifted to the picture, a tangible reminder of the void left behind. "What are we going to do with her car?"

Phoebe, with a contemplative shrug, acknowledged the practicalities in the face of grief. "I don't know. Sell it, I guess."

Piper's eyes surveyed her companions, a silent inquiry in her gaze. "Unless either of you want it."

Buffy and Phoebe, both wearing expressions of sorrow, shook their heads in unison. Phoebe, feeling the need for connection, scooted closer to them, reaching out to clasp their hands in hers. "We're going to get through this, you know," she assured them with a quiet determination. "We just have to stick together."

The room, enveloped in a shared sense of loss, echoed with the sincerity of Phoebe's words. It was a pledge of solidarity, an unspoken commitment to navigate the storm together. As they held onto each other, finding strength in their connection, Leo orbed into the room, a question hanging in the air.

"Well?" Phoebe's inquiry cut through the air, a mixture of urgency and concern lacing her voice.

Leo, the bearer of potentially crucial information, met their questioning gazes with a measured response. "Well, they don't know anything about her, so she's definitely not a Whitelighter," he clarified.

Puzzlement etched across Phoebe's face as she absorbed this revelation. "Then why can she orb?" The weight of the unknown hung heavy in the room, compelling the trio of Phoebe, Piper, and Buffy to rise to their feet, a collective curiosity guiding their movements.

Leo, in his role as a conduit to the mystical realm, offered a nonchalant shrug, his expression mirroring the uncertainty that surrounded the mysterious newcomer. "They can't explain it."

Phoebe's frustration manifested in a scoff, her disbelief evident in the furrow of her brow. "How is it possible that they don't kn—"

Before she could complete her sentence, the room shimmered with another presence. Cole materialized back into their midst, a wry chuckle accompanying his reappearance. "Whew." He grinned, his eyes revealing a mix of amusement and exhaustion. "Sorry I took so long. I had to dodge a couple of bounty hunters."

Leo's inquiry hung in the air, an anticipation of revelations coloring his words. "Did you find anything out?"

Cole's exhale carried the weight of both information and intrigue. "You have no idea what I found out. Turns out the Source doesn't think she's a Whitelighter at all." The gravity of his statement settled over the room, drawing everyone's attention to the unfolding mystery. He chose a seat on the arm of a nearby chair, as if to ease into the revelation that lingered on the tip of his tongue. "In fact, he thinks she might be another... Charmed One."

Buffy's reaction was immediate, a vocal gasp escaping her lips, her eyes widening in astonishment. "What?" The exclamation burst forth loudly, catching everyone off guard. She quickly amended, a touch embarrassed, "Um... sorry," clearing her throat in an attempt to regain composure. "What?"

Cole, unfazed by the outburst, continued with the narrative that had the room hanging on every word. "That's why he put Shax on it. He thought he ended the Power of Three. Now he's worried that this girl may somehow not only reconstitute it but add to it."

The revelation reverberated in the room, leaving a palpable sense of disbelief and uncertainty. Phoebe, seeking clarification, turned to Cole with a furrowed brow. "Add to it?"

"Apparently," Cole responded with a hint of irony, "he believes that Buffy is now a Charmed One."

"No, but that's not possible." Phoebe's disbelief was etched across her face as she vehemently shook her head, her eyes seeking reassurance from Leo. "Is that possible?"

Leo, the keeper of mystical knowledge, offered a non-committal shrug. The uncertainty in the room seemed to grow, casting a shadow over the implications of Cole's revelation. However, Buffy, with a determined shake of her head, interjected, dismissing the notion with a swift motion of her hand. "Of course it's not possible. After all, Cole just said he believes I'm a Charmed One. That's not possible; we all know that."

The trio's collective bewilderment spurred Piper into immediate action. Without a word, she swiftly ascended the stairs, leaving Phoebe startled and calling after her. "Piper?" Her voice echoed in the staircase as both Phoebe and Buffy hastened to follow her up to the attic. "Piper!"

Up in the attic, Piper's urgency led her to the family's Book of Shadows, a source of ancient wisdom that held the key to their magical lineage. Phoebe, with a mix of confusion and concern, questioned Piper's abrupt actions. "What's going on?"

"I'm going to ask Grams what's going on, actually," Piper responded, her voice carrying a blend of determination and unease.

Buffy, standing beside Piper, added her perspective to the unfolding mystery. "Of course," she acknowledged. Her gaze turned towards Phoebe, a shared perplexity lingering between them. "We summoned her yesterday when trying to summon Prue. She said your destiny still awaits and that there's a reason for everything. She was talking to us both. Why would she include me, especially in the destiny statement? My destiny was never tied to yours." She turned to Leo, seeking confirmation. "Right?"

"Not that I know of," Leo replied, his brows furrowing with a mixture of concern and contemplation.

"Which means," Buffy continued, her resolve cutting through the uncertainty, "she has to know what's going on. So, I think Piper has the right idea in summoning her transparent butt back here and finding out exactly what that reason is." The determination in Buffy's eyes mirrored Piper's, and with a shared breath, they embarked on the familiar recitation of the spell they had uttered the day before.

"'Here these words. Hear my cry, spirit from the other side. Come to me, I summon thee. Cross now the Great Divide!'"

The incantation echoed in the attic, weaving through the air like a whispered plea to the mystical forces that connected the realms of the living and the dead. Piper and Buffy, with a sense of anticipation, released a semi-satisfied sigh as the room bathed in a bright light, heralding the arrival of Grams.

However, Grams appeared more perplexed than expected. "Piper? Buffy? Why are you two calling?" Her gaze shifted to Phoebe, recognizing another unexpected presence. "P—Phoebe? Wha—what's going on?"

"Grams…" Piper's raised brow signaled the gravity of the situation. "Why does the Source think that the Charmed Ones can be reconstituted?"

Buffy, standing beside Piper, added her voice to the inquiry. "And why does he think I'm now a Charmed One?"

Grams, caught off guard, faltered in her response. "I do—" Her voice momentarily faltered, prompting a clearing of her throat. "I don't know what either of you are talking about."

"You know what, Grams?" Piper's frustration bubbled to the surface, her emotions visibly escalating. "You were a lousy liar when you were alive, and now as a ghost, you're worse."

The accusation hung in the air, punctuated by the tension that had woven its way into the attic. Phoebe, feeling the weight of the situation, stepped closer to Grams with a determined expression. "If you know something, Grams, you have to tell us. We deserve to know."

Grams, caught between loyalty and the urgency of the moment, shook her head with a quick, almost pained motion. "I can't. I'm sworn to secrecy."

"Screw the secrecy!" Buffy's scoff cut through the air. "Who swore you to secrecy?"

The question lingered, demanding an answer that Grams seemed reluctant to provide. In an unexpected twist, Patty's voice, tinged with a solemn authority, echoed in the attic before she and Joyce materialized right next to Grams in a swirl of bright light. "We did," Patty declared, her gaze steady and unwavering. "We did," she repeated.

The sudden appearance of Patty and Joyce left the trio of Piper, Phoebe, and Buffy in stunned silence. "Mom?"

"Why don't you go first, Patience," Patty suggested, her gaze directed at her sister.

Joyce nodded, acknowledging the weight of the revelation she was about to share, and turned her attention to Buffy, Piper, and Phoebe. "As you three already know, your memories were erased. You assumed it was because of the feud between me and Mom that caused it."

Grams interjected, offering a glimpse into the complexity of their family history. "The feud actually started long before that. In fact, not long after Patty's death."

"Which we will not go into right now," Joyce clarified, her focus returning to the present moment. "It wasn't until Mom and I saw how close the three of you and Prue were becoming that we knew something had to be done. After all, the Elders had already punished Leo by reassigning me and erasing my memories of him. When we learned of the connection you three and Prue were making, we knew that if the magic locked onto that bond..."

"That it would instantly see you, Buffy, as a Charmed One," Patty added, completing the thought.

"So, Patience and I decided to hide you, Buffy, from the Elders. You were cloaked magically from them," Grams disclosed, unravelling the intricate layers of a decision made in secrecy and urgency. The revelation hung in the air, a mosaic of emotions reflected on the faces of Buffy, Piper, and Phoebe.

Buffy's eyes were fixed on her father, a realization dawning in her expression. "That explains why I was never assigned a Whitelighter, isn't it?" she asked him.

"Possibly," Leo responded, his tone carrying a hint of acknowledgment and understanding.

Joyce stepped forward, adding depth to the revelation with a resolute explanation. "But the cloak had to be foolproof. That is why your memories of each other were taken. If the bond continued to form, the Elders could learn and strip you of your powers. And also why when you three received your powers, your memories never returned. You had to rediscover who you three and Prue were to each other."

"Sisters," Buffy affirmed, a quiet acknowledgment of the unbreakable bond that had forged among them. "In all but name."

"Exactly," Joyce concurred. "And now, Payson, you have reclaimed your true destiny as a Charmed One." Her gaze shifted to Patty. "And now, Patty, it is your turn."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Downstairs, the entryway was filled with an air of tension as Cortez and Darryl made their way through the front door. Cortez, determined and armed with a flashlight, pressed forward, prompting Darryl to intervene, attempting to halt his progression.

"You can't just walk in here like this," Darryl asserted, his concern etched across his face.

Cortez, undeterred, paused in his advance, turning to glare at Darryl with a steely resolve. "Search warrant says I can."

The weight of the situation hung in the air, the dim glow of the flashlight casting shadows that seemed to dance in rhythm with the escalating confrontation. Darryl, unable to conceal his frustration, questioned the motive behind Cortez's intrusion. "What the hell are you looking for?"

Cortez's gaze remained unyielding as he shot back, "Do you really expect me to believe you don't know, Inspector?" The accusatory tone lingered in the silence, creating a palpable tension between the two men. When Darryl chose to remain silent, Cortez resumed his determined search, casting a pointed directive over his shoulder. "Follow me and keep your voice down."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Back in the attic, Patty paced around, her words laden with the weight of a hidden past, as she began to reveal the long-concealed events. "We didn't tell anybody because we were afraid that there would be reprisals. Afraid that... you girls would be denied your powers. Your birthright. It happened after your father and I were divorced, Piper… Phoebe. When Sam and I were together."

The revelation of Sam's involvement prompted Cole to turn to Leo, seeking clarification. "Sam?"

"Her Whitelighter," Leo confirmed, his gaze holding a hint of remorse for the unspoken complexities of their shared history.

"Hmm." Cole chuckled, a wry amusement coloring his tone. "Apples don't fall far from the forbidden tree, I see."

"Shh!" Piper interjected sharply, her demand for silence cutting through the momentary levity. She turned her attention back to her mother, her eyes urging Patty to continue. "Go on."

"Piper, Phoebe, you two were toddlers, and of course, Buffy, you weren't born yet," Patty continued, her words weaving a tapestry of untold secrets. "Piper, Phoebe, you two just thought Mommy got a little fat. You never knew I was pregnant."

Gram nodded solemnly, her admission hanging in the air like a quiet echo. "I was the only one who knew."

"Not true, Mom," Joyce interjected, her gaze piercing as she directed a glare at her mother. "I knew." She turned her attention to her daughter and nieces, her voice holding a mix of sternness and familiarity. "Patty never hid anything from me. We always knew each other's secrets."

"Patience is correct there," Patty chuckled, her eyes reflecting the bond shared with her sister. "But she wasn't the only other person who knew. Sam knew also."

"Right," Grams agreed with a nod. "Well, yes, of course."

"We wanted to keep the baby, of course. But mother—" Patty began, her voice trailing off, the weight of the unspoken evident in her expression.

"Well, I—I knew it would be disastrous," Grams hurriedly interjected, her voice carrying a mix of regret and justification. "You know, before Patience and Leo conceived you, Buffy, it wasn't just forbidden. It was unthinkable for witches to be with Whitelighters. I mean, let alone have children with them. That thinking didn't start to really change until you and Leo, Piper."

"So..." Patty nodded, her voice carrying the weight of decades-old decisions. "That's why we had to—why we decided...to give the baby up. Sam and I took her to a local church as soon as she was born. We asked the nun there to find a home for her, and she found one. A very, very good home."

Grams nodded in agreement, her eyes reflecting the echoes of the past. "Yes."

Leo, standing amidst the unfolding revelations, looked at the sisters. "Explains why the Elders didn't know about her."

"Also explains why they stripped Mom's memories of you," Buffy added, her eyes meeting Leo's in a shared understanding.

"Alright, hold it. Wait just one minute," Phoebe quipped, her expression a mix of disbelief and realization. "Are you telling me that that girl, our innocent, is really our sister?"

Patty's smile held a mix of nostalgia and acknowledgment. "Officially, yours and Piper's baby sister. Unofficially, of course, that's Buffy's spot."

Grams, ever the arbiter of familial distinctions, raised a brow as she corrected her own daughter, "Their half-sister."

Patty chuckled at the precision of the distinction, acknowledging the complexity of their shared bloodline. "But by my half, which makes her a sister witch. Well, actually, not yet anyway. Not until all four of you are here together by the Book. Just like before."

"Charmed," Grams smiled, a nostalgic twinkle in her eyes. "Again."

"Question," Buffy interjected, her hand raised in a manner reminiscent of a classroom setting. "Is the Power of Three broken if I'm…"

"You mean the Power of Four," Joyce gently corrected her daughter, a subtle reminder of Buffy's newfound role as a Charmed One. "And yes, it is."

The weight of the revelation settled on the room, and a moment of contemplative silence ensued. Cole, ever the outsider now privy to the complexities of their magical lineage, spoke to himself and Leo, though his words earned equal glares from Buffy and Piper. "And I thought my family was screwed up."

Just then, Cortez barged into the attic, Darryl right behind him, and stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes widening as he gawked at the two ghosts standing there. The sudden intrusion left everyone in the room mirroring their own shock, and a collective tension hung in the air as they awaited Cortez's reaction.

"Well..." Cortez scoffed, breaking the silence, "I'll be damned."

"Great," Buffy muttered, shaking her head. "Icing on the freaking cake."

Piper, ever the pragmatic one, immediately turned to Darryl. "Do something!"

"He's a cop, Piper. And he's got a search warrant," Darryl replied, his expression reflecting a mix of helplessness and concern.

"And believe me..." Cortez motioned his head, a sinister smile playing on his lips, "I've found what I've been searching for." The declaration sent a ripple of apprehension through the room, each member of the Halliwell family exchanging uneasy glances.

Cole, always quick to assess the situation, moved slightly toward Cortez, prompting the Inspector to react swiftly. In an instant, Cortez had his gun out, aiming it directly at Cole. "Ah, ah, ah. Don't move. I'll shoot."

Undeterred, Cole stretched out his hands in a show of defiance. "Then so will I."

As Cortez's face contorted with confusion, Buffy admonished the half-demon, "Cole..."

"Okay, Inspector, just put the gun down," Phoebe urged, a forced chuckle escaping her lips. "There is a very good explanation for all of this."

At Phoebe's prompting, Buffy nodded, attempting to steer the situation away from imminent danger. She pointed dramatically, as if struck by a sudden inspiration. "Right! And uh, that would be..." Panic started to creep into her voice as she grasped for an explanation. "Uh, we're doing a light show!"

"Yeah!" Phoebe shot Buffy an odd look. "What?"

"You know me, Pheebs. I suck at explanations," Buffy reminded her middle sister, a hint of frustration in her voice. "Or did you forget Willow and Xander knew about me from the beginning."

Cortez, still holding the gun and clearly skeptical, surveyed the room. "My whole life... I suspected evil magic was real. That there was something more. I've seen too many horrible things in the job to suspect otherwise, not the least of which are the two murders that happened here."

"Wait," Buffy interjected, her eyes narrowing with confusion. "Evil?"

Piper scoffed, her frustration evident. "Are you accusing us?"

"I've just begun to accuse you, lady!" Cortez retorted, determination in his tone.

"Alright, fine. You caught us," Grams interjected, her expression bored. "Congratulations. So what are you going to do about it? Shoot us?"

"Easy, Mom," Joyce commented with a wry smile. "They're not dead, remember?"

Leo, ever the voice of reason, stepped forward. "Look, you can't arrest us, especially not them." He gestured toward the ghosts. "Nobody will ever believe you."

"Maybe not at first. I'm putting this whole place under constant surveillance. I'm taping your every move. Sooner or later, I'll catch you doing something, uh, supernatural, and then-" Cortez began.

Before Cortez could finish his sentence, Darryl swiftly intervened, hitting Cortez with the butt of his gun. The Inspector crumpled to the floor in unconsciousness, the confrontation abruptly halted. Darryl, having silenced the potential threat, took a breath before turning to the sisters with a knowing expression. "I think you all have been through enough, huh?"

Piper nodded gratefully, her eyes reflecting a mixture of relief and gratitude. "Thank you."

"Darryl, go, get out of here," Phoebe urged as she walked over to him, concern etched across her face. "We don't want you to take the fall for this."

He shook his head resolutely. "No, it's okay."

"She's right, Darryl," Buffy added, her tone carrying a note of sincerity. "This is our mess. We don't need to drag you down with us. Go."

"If you need me, you know where to find me, huh?" Darryl said, acknowledging their concern with a nod before turning to leave the attic.

As the door closed behind Darryl, Cole shifted his attention from the unconscious inspector back to the sisters. "This doesn't solve your problem. He's going to wake up eventually. You've just bought yourself some time."

Leo nodded solemnly, his gaze fixed on Phoebe, Piper and Buffy. "What you're going to need, especially if you want to save your..."

Pain flashed across Phoebe's face, her eyes betraying a mix of fear and concern. "Sister?"

Buffy could sense the weight of the revelation settling in, the idea of another familial connection hitting her like a sudden storm. She shook her head, still struggling to fully comprehend the implications of having officially another cousin and unofficially another sister.

Grams, sensing the tension in the room, urged action. "Well, what are you waiting for?" Her voice held a tinge of urgency. "Just write a spell. Get rid of him."

Buffy, taken aback, sought clarification. "Uh, get rid of him?"

Grams waved her hand dismissively, a mischievous chuckle escaping her lips. "Well, you know what I mean. Dump him somewhere. Anywhere." Her eyes gleamed with a mischievous spark. "With all the witches in this room, we ought to be able to do something with him. I mean, just start rhyming. Uh, take him back, take him away. Remove him now. Don't let him stay." She gestured emphatically to Phoebe.

"Oh. Uh. We call the spirits to help undo and send him off to... Timbuktu." Phoebe grinned triumphantly, her voice carrying a touch of magical confidence, as Cortez vanished from the floor. "Whoa. It worked."

Buffy's eyes widened at the unexpected outcome of Phoebe's spell, the realization sinking in that the inspector was now sent to Timbuktu. "Phoebe!"

"Timbuktu?" Piper admonished angrily, her frustration evident. "You sent him to Timbuktu?"

Phoebe defended her choice with a hint of exasperation. "Alright, well, it was the only thing I could think of that rhymed with undo!"

"Great." Buffy crossed her arms, a mix of annoyance and concern etched on her face. "Now we've got a missing inspector to deal with. Somewhere in Timbuktu."

Cole, ever the calm presence, waved them off reassuringly. "Don't worry. Uh, I'll find him."

Once Cole shimmered out, Piper shook her head in disbelief, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "This is way too much for me to handle. Way too much."

"Same," Buffy chimed in, aligning herself with Piper's sentiments.

Patty looked at her niece and daughter with a heavy heart, sympathy etched across her face. "Nobody can blame either of you for being angry, sweeties."

"Angry? Yeah, I'm angry," Piper retorted, her voice tinged with a mix of frustration and confusion. "Um, I'm confused and you know what? This- this is just crazy. You cannot float in here after all these years and go, 'Oh gosh, I forgot, by the way, you've got a sister.'" Her frustration reached a boiling point as she yelled, "Especially not today of all days!"

"Piper's right, Aunt Patty." Buffy added, her tone reflecting a mix of frustration and hurt. "What, do you think this is like a replacement for losing Prue? Like everything can just go back to how it was?"

"Goddess no, sweetie." Patty shook her head, her eyes reflecting a deep sadness as she looked at all of them.

Buffy spun on her own mother, a mixture of disbelief and frustration etching lines on her face. "Are you going to turn around and tell me I have a mystery sister also?"

"No, honey," Joyce answered, her voice filled with a reassuring calmness, an attempt to anchor Buffy in the midst of the surreal revelations.

Patty, understanding the overwhelming weight of the situation, stepped in with a gentle but firm tone. "I know it's a lot, more than anybody should have to deal with, but you're going to have to deal with it the best way you know how." She locked eyes with Buffy, her expression conveying both empathy and wisdom. "Losing Prue, learning that you… Buffy… are a Charmed One, learning about another sister… this is your path. This is your destiny. Get angry at it, cry about it, but don't fight it. Or it'll consume you."

"Come on, Patty… Patience." Grams intervened, her presence offering a sense of stability. She took their hands, a gesture of solidarity. "The rest is up to them."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Neither Buffy nor I can sense where she is because she's technically not a witch yet," Leo stated.

"Alright..." Phoebe took a steadying breath, her mind racing to formulate a plan. "So all we have to go on is that church that Mom mentioned and the nun."

"Okay, let's get one thing straight. I am only doing this to save her," Buffy asserted, her determination cutting through the uncertainty. Her gaze locked with both her father and Phoebe, emphasizing the gravity of the situation.

"Same here," Piper chimed in, her commitment echoing Buffy's. "Plus, I'm not remotely interested in reconstituting…The Charmed Ones," she added, her expression shifting upon noticing Paige standing in the foyer.

Paige, caught off guard, stood there looking extremely nervous and uncomfortable. "I—the door was open," she offered weakly, gesturing behind her with one finger. The room fell into an awkward silence as the sisters exchanged puzzled looks. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be here," she apologized quickly, sensing the tension, and started to retreat towards the door.

Phoebe's eyes bulged in panic, her instincts kicking in. Without a second thought, she ran right after Paige. "No! No, no, no, no! No, no!" she cried, grabbing at the girl's upper arms to stop her. "We were just coming to look for you," Phoebe informed Paige with a friendly, and possibly much too wide, smile before darting off to close the door.

Paige turned to Buffy and Piper, her eyes wide with curiosity. "You were?" she asked, her gaze shifting between the two, but she remained rooted to the spot where Phoebe had left her.

Buffy took a deep breath, a mix of weariness and determination evident in her expression. She sighed, folding her arms across her chest, while Piper shook her head with a bemused look, as if silently pleading for divine intervention.

"Yep!" Phoebe chirped from behind Paige as she walked back towards her. With a mischievous grin, Phoebe looped their arms together and began to drag her over to where Buffy and Piper stood. "Come on in," she invited, her tone carrying an air of camaraderie.

"Welcome! I'm Phoebe, and this is—" Phoebe began, leaving the introduction hanging in the air.

"Piper," Paige finished for her, following Phoebe's extended arm with a polite smile.

Buffy and Piper exchanged puzzled glances, their confusion mirrored by furrowed brows on Phoebe's face. How did Paige already know Piper's name? The unspoken question lingered in the room, adding another layer of mystery to the already complex situation they found themselves in.

"I know I've been to your club," Paige elaborated slowly, her entire being exuding awkwardness as she spoke. "It's pretty great."

"Thank you," Piper replied politely, flashing Paige a small smile. The exchange held an air of tension, as if everyone present was carefully navigating uncharted territory.

Paige smiled back at Piper and then turned her attention to Buffy. "And you must be, Payson, the cousin the club was renamed after."

"That's me," Buffy answered, her demeanor casual but guarded. "But my friends and family call me Buffy."

Paige's eyebrows raised inquisitively. "Why?" she questioned with a puzzled expression, genuinely curious about the choice of name.

"It's a long complicated story," Buffy replied, her eyes briefly reflecting a mixture of amusement and a hint of nostalgia.

"And you are?" Piper questioned, her gaze shifting to the newcomer in their midst.

"Paige, my name is Paige," Paige replied with a small smile, her eyes reflecting a mix of nervousness and eagerness to be accepted into this unexpected circle.

"Another 'P,' imagine that," Phoebe threw in, her tone light but with a subtle hint of amusement. The commonality of 'P' names in their family seemed to be a recurring theme.

"Nice to meet you," Piper said warmly, extending her hand towards Paige. As their hands met in a firm shake, an unexpected ripple of energy coursed through the room. The chandelier above them began to shake, casting a bright blue sheet of light that danced around them, creating an ethereal ambiance.

Paige gasped, looking up with wide frightened eyes, while Piper, Phoebe, and Buffy followed her gaze, their own surprise considerably lacking. The mystical display seemed to register differently for each of them, a testament to their varied experiences with the supernatural.

All four of them looked down at the two joined hands before Piper and Paige both let go together, the energy subsiding as quickly as it had emerged.

"Okay… what was that?" Paige asked breathlessly, her heart racing as fear tingled up her spine, and yet, strangely, excitement wasn't far behind it.

Leo spoke up this time, taking one step forward as he ventured, "I think that means you're supposed to be here."

"The Power of Four?" Buffy questioned, her gaze fixed on her father, who nodded in affirmation.

Piper opened her mouth to speak when the front doors flew open, and that all too familiar hurricane-type wind came barreling through, knocking all four women to the floor. The wind kept spinning until it transformed into the menacing form of Shax. He leered over the four of them, walking threateningly closer.

Leo, ever the protective figure, jumped on the demon's back, wrestling with him. "Go on! Get upstairs!"

"Leo!" Piper shrieked, her concern for her husband evident in her voice.

"Dad!" Buffy screamed, a sudden surge of worry for her father flooding her.

Piper grabbed Buffy, and the four of them scrambled to their feet, their collective urgency propelling them toward the stairs. However, their attempt to escape the chaos was abruptly interrupted when Leo went soaring through the air, landing hard on the wooden floors with a resounding thud.

"Dad!" Buffy cried out again, instinctively moving to go after him.

"No!" Piper stopped Buffy, spun her back around, and pushed her toward the stairs. Determination etched on her face, Piper and Phoebe took the lead, urging Buffy and Paige to follow closely behind.

"Buffy!" Paige suddenly shrieked in fear, her grip tightening on Buffy's arm.

Buffy spun around to see Shax staring at them intently, a twisted smirk of amusement on his face. Before Buffy could flinch, Shax released an energy ball in her direction. Reacting on instinct, a fireball formed in Buffy's hand, and she threw it. The energy ball and the fireball collided in a small explosion, shaking the house.

"Okay, time to take an alternate route!" Buffy exclaimed frantically. She grabbed Paige's hand, and with a swirl of fiery flames, they disappeared, leaving behind the chaotic scene.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"What the hell took you so long!" Piper demanded when Buffy and Paige appeared in the attic, the urgency of the situation fueling her frustration.

"Shax, of course," Buffy told her eldest sister, her tone cutting through the tension. She pulled Paige over to join the rest of the family around the open Book of Shadows, already flipped to the desired page.

"What are we doing?" Paige questioned fearfully, her eyes wide with terror and confusion. "What is that thing?" She turned to Buffy. "And what the heck are you?"

"We'll explain later," Buffy dismissed tersely, her focus shifting to the ancient text before them. The urgency of the situation demanded their immediate attention.

Piper, sensing Paige's unease, turned to her with a reassuring expression. "Just say this spell out loud with us, okay?" she asked, searching Paige's eyes for a sign of understanding.

Paige frowned in response, uncertainty etched across her face. "Spell? What are you guys; witches?" she asked, her fear escalating as the reality of the supernatural unfolded before her.

"And so are you," Phoebe replied, her words carrying both a sense of acceptance and an air of hope. She glanced nervously at Buffy and Piper. "I hope."

"We're about to find out!" Buffy spoke up, her words drowned out by the howling wind approaching the attic door. Moments later, the door burst open, splinters of wood flying everywhere, revealing the menacing figure of Shax.

All four women screamed in surprise as Shax now stood before them. Sensing the imminent threat, Buffy squeezed Paige's wrist, signaling the need for action. "Now!"

"Evil wind that blows, that which forms below. No longer may you dwell, death takes you with this spell," the four of them chanted in almost perfect unison. The power of their collective voices filled the room, each word resonating with a magical force.

When they finished, Shax howled in pain, flashing like lightning several times before spinning in a circle and exploding. The force of the vanquish sent shockwaves through the attic, leaving it eerily silent in the aftermath.

"Now that is what I call a vanquish!" Buffy exclaimed proudly with a smirk, breaking the silence. Phoebe chuckled in agreement, the tension in the room dissipating as they celebrated their victory over the supernatural threat.

Piper, however, was less relaxed, her expression growing more serious. "It's not enough," she announced grimly, and her sisters sobered up, the weight of the situation settling on their shoulders.

"You're right. Shax was just the messenger… we got to get the Source," Phoebe concluded evenly, her voice steady, masking the unbelievable fear she felt inside. Her eyes flickered with a mix of determination and apprehension as she addressed the daunting task that lay ahead.

Paige looked across at their two sisters to Phoebe expectantly, her curiosity turning into a demand. "The Source of what?"

Buffy bit her lip, her eyes flickering between Piper and Phoebe before meeting Paige's gaze hesitantly. The unspoken truth hung heavy in the air, and Buffy could feel the weight of responsibility in her words.

Paige gazed back, her stance slowly tensing as she waited for an answer, sensing the gravity of the revelation about to unfold.

Placing one hand on her hip, Buffy took a breath, preparing herself for the difficult admission. With a measured tone, she revealed, "Of all evil."

Paige visibly trembled as the weight of the revelation settled upon her, a mixture of fear and disbelief coursing through her. Her eyes darted between her sisters, Piper screwing up her face and Phoebe holding her breath, both empathizing with the overwhelming reality Paige was now confronted with.

"What have you guys turned me into?" Paige asked rhetorically, a horrified and disgusted look gracing her pale features. The weight of her newfound knowledge pressed heavily on her shoulders, and in a moment of overwhelming panic, she turned and bolted out the door, running as fast as she possibly could.

"Paige!" Piper called, her voice carrying a note of urgency as she, Buffy, and Phoebe rushed around the book.

"Wait!" Phoebe tried to intervene, her eyes pleading with Paige to pause and process the overwhelming truth.

"Paige!" Buffy yelled, but Paige was already gone, disappearing into the unknown.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Buffy paced nervously in her room, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. Taking a deep breath, she dialed Willow's number. After a few rings, Willow's voice chirped through the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, Will," Buffy greeted, her tone a mix of excitement and trepidation.

"Buffy! What's up? Everything okay?" Willow's voice carried genuine concern.

"Yeah, yeah, everything's fine, but there's something I need to tell you." Buffy hesitated for a moment before diving into the heart of the matter. "I found out I'm a Charmed One."

There was a pause on the other end, and then Willow's voice filled with astonishment. "How?"

"According to my mom, when we summoned her, Aunt Patty, and Grams," Buffy explained. "The magic latched onto the sisterhood I shared with Prue, Piper, and Phoebe. And it made me, like them, a Charmed One."

"Wow," Willow breathed out, the sheer magnitude of the revelation evident in her voice. "That's... that's a lot, Buffy. How are you feeling about it?"

"I already had the Charmed Slayer thing, and we always kind of assumed that I would share in their destiny somehow," Buffy said, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "But to actually become an actual Charmed One... I don't know. It's a lot to process."

Willow's comforting tone came through the phone, "I get that, Buffy. It's a big leap. Especially when you already had the Slayer and Whitelighter stuff."

"It is," Buffy said, her voice carrying a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. "And that's not all. You remember Phoebe's premonition at the funeral yesterday?"

"Yeah," Willow replied, her curiosity piqued.

"Well, it turns out that the innocent was actually Prue, Piper, and Phoebe's long-lost sister," Buffy revealed, her words unfolding like a complex tapestry. "Aunt Patty gave her up because she was afraid that should the Elders learn of her, Prue, Piper, and Phoebe would be denied their powers. Anyway, somehow the Source learned of her parentage and targeted her, which drew her to us. With Prue's death and me being a Charmed One, we kind of need her to make up the new Power of Four."

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line as Willow processed the intricate layers of Buffy's revelation. The weight of destiny and family intricacies seemed to hang in the air.

"Wow, Buffy, that's... a lot to take in," Willow finally responded, her voice a mixture of empathy and understanding. "But you guys, you're the Power of Four now. I mean, that's... it's extraordinary!"

"Yeah, extraordinary," Buffy said with a sigh, her voice carrying the weight of the recent revelations. "I don't know how I feel about this, Will. We just lost Prue, and now to find out about Paige. It's almost too much."

Willow's empathetic silence echoed through the phone, allowing Buffy to share the burden of her conflicting emotions. The room felt heavy with the residue of grief and the overwhelming nature of their magical destinies.

"I mean, Prue was family, and now, with Paige, it's like a whirlwind of emotions," Buffy continued, her words flowing as if seeking solace in the act of sharing. "I know we're supposed to be the Power of Four, but it feels like we're trying to fill a void left by Prue's absence."

Willow's gentle response came through the phone, "Buffy, it's okay to feel overwhelmed. Losing Prue was a huge blow, and now, with this new sister, it's like you're navigating uncharted territory. But you're strong, and so is Piper and Phoebe. You'll find a way to make it work, together."

Buffy appreciated the reassurance, but the uncertainty lingered in her voice. "I just don't want Paige to feel like a replacement for Prue."