Charmed: The Faith Chronicles

by Brenna's Urbangirl Projects

Faith Lehane was born in Boston to a drunken mother and absentee father, or so she had believed for 17 years. Then she was called as the Slayer and things took a turn for the worse when she accidentally killed the Deputy Mayor. The Watcher's Council learns of the death and tries to return her to England. She manages to escape and in so doing finds out that she had been adopted

38. Chapter 37: Long Live the Queen

Chapter 37: Long Live the Queen

March 25, 2002 – Monday

The Towers

Phoebe sat cross-legged on her bed, laptop resting in front of her, desperately attempting to shield herself from the turbulent weather and the clamor outside her room, yearning for a moment of peace to accomplish some work.

The room flickered with the harsh brilliance of lightning, revealing the shadows dancing on the walls as thunder rumbled in the distance. Startled, Phoebe gracefully rose from her spot, a silent dance leading her to the balcony doors. She pulled them closed, shutting out the raging storm that mirrored the tempest within her.

Leaning against the window frame, Phoebe's gaze wandered across the darkened cityscape. Another thunderous roar echoed through the night, and her thoughts involuntarily drifted to the three sisters she had abandoned, a twinge of melancholy settling in her chest. She sighed, the ache of regret palpable, yet somehow bearable, knowing she still had her nieces by her side.

The weather, her husband, and her niece were convenient excuses for her distraction, but deep down, Phoebe acknowledged the true culprit—guilt. It consumed her, day by day, an insurmountable burden. She had betrayed her sisters, forsaking the light they fought for, opting instead for the darkness that now enveloped her. There was no redemption, no turning back. Home was a place she could never return to, and the weight of that truth rested solely on her shoulders.

Since the coronation, Phoebe had waged an internal battle, fighting to keep thoughts of her sisters at bay. Tonight, however, the storm had become a catalyst, tearing down the barriers she had erected in her mind.

A sharp knock on her bedroom door shattered the fragile sanctuary of her thoughts, causing her to jolt. She turned her head toward the disturbance, swiftly veiling her inner turmoil with a practiced mask. "Come in," she commanded, her voice laced with an authority she despised owning.

The Seer entered quietly, the open door revealing a ritual unfolding in the background. The room resonated with the low hum of incessant chanting. The Seer placed a tray on the cabinet by the door, adorned with two long-stemmed glasses filled with Phoebe's daily tonic. Lifting one glass, the Seer approached Phoebe with a respectful smile.

"My Queen," the Seer greeted, bowing slightly. "It's time for your tonic."

Phoebe took the glass from the Seer's outstretched hand without protest, her fingers curling around it as she stared at the storm-ridden night outside. Her frustration bubbled up, demanding an outlet, and she couldn't help but voice her exasperation. "Can you do anything about this thunder? It's making me nuts!" she cried.

The Seer, composed and unruffled, responded with a calm explanation, "I have no sway over the weather. I do have a friend who works with wind, but she's out of town." Her words flowed smoothly; the tone conversational as they strolled together toward the door.

Undeterred by the Seer's lack of control over the elements, Phoebe diverted the conversation. "What about demons?" she questioned, brushing off the weather-related response entirely. "Any sway over them? Because I swear, if they don't shut up..." She let her threat linger, the frustration evident in her voice, taking a sip of the tonic only to recoil at its taste, holding it at arm's length. "Urgh!" she shuddered, turning to the Seer with a childlike whine. "I hate this stuff."

"It's for your own good," the Seer stated matter-of-factly.

Phoebe, still grappling with the disagreeable aftertaste, couldn't resist a pleading inquiry. "Well, whatever happened to regular old vitamins?"

The Seer, seemingly uninterested, replied with a bored tone, as if repeating information for the umpteenth time, "There's nothing regular about your pregnancy. The new power you are experiencing is a mere shadow of what's to come."

Phoebe rolled her eyes in a dramatic display of her annoyance, her gaze shifting from the tonic to the Seer, a silent plea for it to vanish with just the intensity of her stare.

"The tonic strengthens you to bear the weight of it," the Seer persisted, a subtle edge in her voice as she attempted to convey the necessity of the concoction to the stubborn woman before her.

Phoebe, undeterred, fired back with a pointed question, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "So, are you giving it to Faith also?"

"Of course," the Seer replied without hesitation. "As I have been since the first bout of nausea first hit her."

Phoebe smacked her lips together, a begrudging acknowledgment escaping her. "Okay," she conceded tightly, frustration evident in her tone. "Well, then do me a favor." With a commanding gesture, she extended the glass toward the Seer. "Find something that strengthens me and doesn't taste like crap."

Concern etched the Seer's features as she observed Phoebe's reaction. "Are you feeling alright?" she inquired, her hand reaching out to gently cup Phoebe's cheek.

Turning her head away in defeat, Phoebe sighed, a heavy burden evident in the lines on her forehead. "Yeah, it's just..." She ambled back to her bed and collapsed onto it with an audible thud. "I have all this work that I have to do, AND I CAN'T CONCENTRATE!" she yelled, her voice carrying a petulant tone, frustration etched on her face. In a moment of exasperation, she raised her head, intending to vent her discontent out the door, only to have it abruptly closed by a demon.

"But you are queen now," the Seer gently reminded, her words carrying a note of reassurance as she rubbed Phoebe's leg in a comforting gesture. "There's no reason for you to continue with this work at all."

Phoebe shot a glare at the closed door, mentally picturing the demon's face and concocting imaginative, painful fates for him. "I like my work," she informed the Seer with a simplicity that belied the underlying complexity of her emotions. "It's a good distraction."

The Seer tilted her head inquisitively, her expression one of genuine curiosity. "A distraction from what?" she asked carefully, extending her arm with the tonic in hand, offering it once more.

Phoebe sat up straight, accepting the glass with a hesitant glance. A guilty shadow flickered across her features as she admitted, "Still struggling with your decision?" The Seer prodded gently, her tone a delicate invitation for Phoebe to share the weight on her conscience.

"No, I mean… I love Cole, Faith, and Buffy," Phoebe replied with a sincerity that resonated through the room. The Seer continued to stroke her head, a comforting touch in the midst of Phoebe's inner turmoil. "And, you know, don't get me wrong, this whole queen thing is kind of fun." A soft chuckle escaped her lips, but it was followed by a deep sigh. "It's just..."

"Your sisters," the Seer finished the thought for her, a compassionate understanding in her eyes, as Phoebe took a begrudging sip of her tonic.

"Yeah," Phoebe nodded, handing the glass back to the Seer. "I don't understand why they have to be so stubborn," she explained with a frustrated huff. "Why they can't just… respect mine, Faith, and Buffy's decisions."

The Seer, maintaining her calm demeanor, offered a gentle explanation. "Because it's not in the nature of good to compromise. They'll never understand. They'll only want to change you three back. The sooner you accept that, just as Faith and Buffy have, and let them go, the happier you will be."

Phoebe sighed sadly, the weight of the situation pressing on her, stupid hormones betraying her with tears that welled in her eyes as she stared down at her hands.

The Seer, her expression reflecting the somberness of the moment, pressed her lips together tightly. "Here, drink your tonic," she ordered, holding it out, the banging from outside growing more insistent.

Phoebe pushed the glass of tonic away with an abrupt motion, her frustration evident as she demanded answers, "What the hell is going on out there?" Her gaze shifted from the closed door to the Seer, impatience sparking in her eyes. "You know, ever since the coronation, all Cole and Faith do is work."

The Seer tightened her jaw, suppressing the urge to vent her own frustration physically, and turned away, choosing silence as her response. "The underworld's been in chaos for some time, and they have a great task—"

"I don't care!" Phoebe interrupted with a pout; her voice filled with discontent. "I want some attention from my husband. Just as I think Buffy would like attention from her wife." She sighed, her annoyance palpable, and looked back down, dismissing the Seer with a wave of her hand. "You're excused."

"Make certain you drink that upon waking," the Seer reminded, referring to the second glass of tonic, then bowed her head and vanished in a flash.

Phoebe let out a deep breath, her anger boiling over as she stormed towards her bedroom door.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Buffy stood in the nursery, surrounded by soft pastel colors and the faint scent of baby lotion. She carefully arranged the tiny clothes in the dresser, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation. The room was filled with the subtle sounds of preparation—a crib gently creaking as she adjusted its position, the rustle of curtains being drawn, and the soft hum of a lullaby playing in the background.

As she lovingly arranged a row of stuffed animals on a shelf, a sudden energy surged through her, a familiar tingle that heralded a premonition. Buffy's eyes widened, and she found herself momentarily transported into a vision of the future.

In this vivid scene, Buffy glimpsed their daughter at two years old. The room was a mess of vibrant colors and scattered toys, a testament to the lively chaos that defined toddlerhood. Their little girl, with Faith's mischievous glint in her eyes and Buffy's infectious smile, was energetically babbling and trying to stack blocks.

Buffy watched, her heart swelling with warmth, as Faith entered the room. The two-year-old rushed towards her, arms outstretched, and Faith effortlessly scooped her up, swinging her around with playful joy. Buffy could feel the love that radiated from the scene—the laughter, the shared moments, the unspoken connection between mother and daughter.

The premonition dissipated as quickly as it had come, leaving Buffy standing in the serene nursery, a tender smile playing on her lips. She blinked back the tears that had welled in her eyes, grateful for this glimpse into the future and the promise it held for their growing family.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Phoebe threw open her bedroom door with a force that shattered the eerie silence of the demonic ceremony. "It is after midnight, Cole, come to bed," she ordered sternly, her eyes locking onto her husband's with an intensity that brooked no argument. A quick glance at Faith conveyed an unspoken message. "And you, go be with your wife."

"Aunt Phoebe, please, we're in the middle of a ceremony," Faith stated rigidly, an evident discontent coloring her features at the untimely interruption.

An imperturbable demon turned to Phoebe and tried to appease her, "We're almost done."

"Almost doesn't work for me," Phoebe retorted darkly, her frustration escalating. With a swift motion, she threw out her hand, engulfing the first demon in searing flames until he was reduced to ashes, and then replicated the action with a second demon. The remaining demons, sensing the imminent danger, shimmered out, leaving the Source and his Queen alone in the room.

"I thought we talked about this," Cole said evenly, his gaze unwavering.

Phoebe cringed, an apologetic tone lacing her words, "Sorry, it's hormones," she confessed, biting her lip as she met her husband's less-than-understanding glare.

The sudden burst of flames and the dispersing demons caught Buffy's attention from down the hallway. A mixture of concern and curiosity etched across her features as she entered the room, her presence a calming force in the aftermath of the fiery display.

"What happened?" Buffy inquired, her gaze shifting between Phoebe, Cole, and the remnants of the interrupted demonic ceremony. Her Slayer instincts immediately assessed the situation, ready for action if needed.

Phoebe, still grappling with the aftermath of her outburst, met Buffy's eyes with a mixture of apology and frustration. "Hormones," she explained, her voice carrying a touch of embarrassment.

Cole sighed, a hint of exasperation in his expression. "It's a work in progress."

Buffy arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a half-smile. "Well, I hope the progress speeds up. We've got a baby on the way, and I'd rather not have its first words be 'dowsing demons in fire.'"

"It's okay, babe," Faith said, her voice a soothing balm as she moved over to Buffy, the soft click of her boots echoing in the room. With a tender touch, she cupped Buffy's face, brushing her thumb against her cheek, and placed a gentle kiss on her wife's lips. The warmth of the connection served as a silent reassurance, a reminder of their unwavering bond.

"That said, where were you?" Faith continued, her tone shifting to a playful yet concerned cadence. "As General of the Underworld, you're supposed to be at these meetings too."

Buffy met Faith's gaze, a mixture of guilt and amusement in her eyes. "I got caught up in nursery preparations," she admitted, a sheepish smile playing on her lips. "You know how it is—deciding between the blue or pink crib sheets feels like life-altering decisions right now."

Faith chuckled, shaking her head in mock exasperation. "Leave it to you to turn baby preparations into a military operation."

Buffy grinned, the tension of the interrupted ceremony now replaced by the ease of their familiar banter. "Hey, the nursery is the battlefield, and I'm making sure we win it."

Faith rolled her eyes playfully, a smirk playing on her lips. "Well, just don't make the baby's first words 'blue' or 'pink.'"

March 25, 2002 – Monday

Halliwell Manor

"Damn it!" Paige cursed in frustration; her eyes locked on the pages of the Book of Shadows. "I have read through this fifteen times. There's nothing even remotely helpful about how to save Phoebe, Faith, or Buffy."

Piper remained focused on the array of ingredients before her, adding them to the pot with practiced precision. Her attention was on crafting a potion, a lethal defense against the unexpected threat posed by their sister and nieces. "I told you, they made a choice. There's no magical cure for that."

"Yeah, well, Phoebe and Faith are so... Phoebe, at least, is being influenced by the baby inside. And the herbs Faith consumed influenced her and Buffy," Paige reasoned, her frustration evident as she tried to break through Piper's concentration.

"And we could have helped them overcome that..." Piper spoke up, her voice tinged with regret, yet her eyes remained fixed on the green liquid swirling in the cauldron. "...but they chose Cole."

Paige sighed in annoyance, growing tired of her futile attempts to sway her older sister. "Will you just stop with the potions already! You've already overrun the kitchen; I'd say we have enough."

Piper, unyielding, lifted the vial of green liquid, holding it up for Paige to see. "This one duplicates my freezing power, plus it scalds the flesh. We should only use it in a dire emergency," she informed Paige deadpanned.

"No." Paige refused sternly, her frustration boiling over as she slammed the Book of Shadows closed. The once-trusted source of magical guidance now lay on the table, a symbol of their desperation. Rising to her feet, she declared, "I will not scald Phoebe, Faith, or Buffy's flesh!" Her voice carried incredulity and determination as she stomped towards them. "Phoebe's still our sister. Faith and Buffy are still our nieces," she asserted, the fervor of her loyalty cutting through the dark cloud of uncertainty.

As if on cue, blue orbs signaled the arrival of their Whitelighter. "Paige?" Leo called, immediately sensing the tension in the room.

Paige turned to him, her eyes wide and her mouth agape, struggling to find the words to convey the turmoil within her.

"How is she?" Leo asked, glancing towards his wife with a mix of concern and apprehension.

Paige shook her head, her gaze drifting toward Piper. "She's like Piper Light," she commented, gesturing to her older sister. "All the personality without any of those messy emotions."

Leo approached with sympathetic eyes, understanding the weight of the situation. He gently squeezed Paige's hand, offering silent support. "Rumor on the demonic grapevine is..." he trailed off, walking towards Piper, who remained oblivious to his presence, "...their new queen is killing upper-level demons. Word is, she killed two just last night."

"What does that mean?" Paige asked hopefully, a glimmer of optimism flickering in her eyes.

"It means it looks like Phoebe, at the very least, is working from the inside for the good guys," Leo answered, his attention still fixed on his wife.

"That's great!" Paige gushed, the hope of saving her sister and her family returning tenfold. The prospect of Phoebe fighting for the side of good reignited a spark of confidence in their ability to bring her and possibly Faith and Buffy back from the dark path they were on.

"Since when do you guys believe rumors that are spread by demons?" Piper questioned, her skepticism evident in her tone as she turned a critical eye towards Leo and Paige.

The Towers

Cole and Faith were seated at the head of the large, glass dining table, an assembly of demons surrounding them. In the center, a magical projection provided the group with visual confirmations of their hit targets: faces, names, and occupations presented in vivid detail.

"Alison Whitt," Dane announced, nodding towards the projected image of a pretty, smiling brunette. He circled the table slowly, relaying crucial information. "Among other things, she's spearheading the campaign to clean up Dolores Park."

"That's my district," Stefan, a young, dark-haired demon, sneered, his territorial pride evident.

"I got men there too," Malek added, his voice cutting across the table from his position. The exchange of glances between Stefan and Malek hinted at a simmering tension beneath the surface.

Stefan shot forward in his seat, his eyes narrowing in a hostile glare. "Since when."

Malek turned his head, meeting Stefan's challenging gaze without flinching. "Since I put them there."

"Then they're working my territory," Stefan growled, his frustration evident as his fists curled, emphasizing his territorial claim.

Faith's authoritative voice cut through the tension, bringing a momentary hush to the room. "Gentlemen," she stated, the weight of her words asserting dominance. "It's all mine and Uncle Cole's territory," she reminded them, her gaze unwavering as both Stefan and Malek redirected their attention her way.

"Thank you, Faith," Cole acknowledged, his approval evident as he sat forward, hands clasped on the table. He nodded to Dane, signaling to continue. "Next."

Dane waved his hand, and the image of the woman's head spun until it changed to that of a man. "Gregory Conroy," Dane informed the group, his voice carrying the weight of their collective business. "Probation officer to juvenile offenders." Dane moved down the length of the table, coming to a stop next to Cole's side as he continued, "Manages to rehabilitate the worst of the worst. He's cost us several potential demons."

"He's yours," Faith announced, turning to Malek, who was seated to her direct left. The delegation of responsibilities echoed the hierarchy among the demons, a subtle reminder of the power structure within their underworld family.

Malek nodded in acknowledgement, a smirk playing across his face as he glanced across the table at Stefan.

Dane continued, "He works at the—"

The doors separating the elevator entrance from the rest of the apartment suddenly flew open, and in walked Phoebe, followed closely by Buffy. Every demon in the room froze, their expressions instantly shifting to wariness as they sensed the formidable energy radiating from Phoebe. The air was thick with tension as they grappled with the uncertainty of her mood and the potential threat to their lives.

Phoebe, with a sly smirk playing on her lips, disrupted the silence. "Relax, boys. I'm here to cook, not kill," she assured them, a grocery bag dangling casually from her hand. "Although I'd keep your voices down if I were you," she added as an afterthought, her words laced with a subtle warning. Those who had initially relaxed at her assurance tensed up once more, realizing the precarious nature of their situation. Phoebe's smile widened, mischievous and unpredictable, and she opened her palm as if to conjure an attack.

Several demons gasped, instinctively leaning back in hopes of avoiding a potential burst of her lethal power.

"My Queen," Buffy warned, her voice carrying a mix of caution and respect.

"It's okay, Buffy," Phoebe said, her voice a calming presence as she reassured Buffy, then switched her attention to Cole, a wide smile gracing her lips. "Hi, honey," she greeted, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on his cheek before gracefully moving away.

Cole, however, shot to his feet, his expression a mix of incredulity and amusement. "Honey?" he called after her, his tone laced with bemusement, while Faith followed suit, both exchanging glances as they trailed after Phoebe and Buffy.

Phoebe and Buffy placed their bags down in the hallway, and Phoebe, ever the hostess, inquired, "Will your friends be staying for dinner?"

Cole, with a subtle eye-roll, pulled one of the separating doors closed slightly, creating a semblance of privacy in the room. He replied, his tone carrying a note of frustration, "Faith and I are gonna find it hard to convince them to stay until the end of the meeting unless you stop threatening to kill them."

Phoebe rolled her eyes, a playful glint in them as she shrugged. "I was kidding," she declared, her nonchalance evident.

"You've killed five of our best demons this week," Faith interjected, her tone serious and reminding Phoebe of the consequences of her recent actions.

"So, forgive me if I'm missing the joke!" Cole snapped heatedly, a hint of exasperation coloring his words. Phoebe's gaze dropped to the floor, her playful demeanor replaced by a momentary acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation.

"Oh, baby, I'm sorry," Phoebe apologized sincerely, her expression softened with genuine regret as she met Cole's eyes.

"Uncle Cole and I know we've been working a lot," Faith acknowledged, understanding the strain that their responsibilities placed on Phoebe. She exchanged a knowing glance with Cole, silently acknowledging the shared burden.

"But that should lighten up soon; in the meantime, no more killing," Cole added, his tone gentle but firm. He recognized the toll their demanding roles were taking on Phoebe and sought to alleviate the pressure.

Phoebe huffed at the directive, her frustration evident as she turned her head away, a subtle sign of resistance.

"Promise?" Cole prodded, his gaze unwavering as he sought reassurance. He knew the precarious nature of their world, and a promise from Phoebe was a necessary step toward maintaining order and preventing unnecessary conflicts.

Phoebe turned back to him slowly, her pout firmly in place again. Despite the reluctance, there was a flicker of understanding in her eyes as she acknowledged the significance of the promise.

"Promise," Phoebe said, her voice carrying a mix of resignation and determination.

"It's hard enough for them to accept the fact that my queen is a former Charmed One," Cole told her sternly. His tone held a firmness, the weight of responsibility clear in his eyes. "Or that my heir is not only a former Slayer but the daughter of a Charmed. We don't want them to think you're playing both sides."

"I said I promise," Phoebe reminded him, her voice carrying a touch of exasperation. Determination laced her words as she sought to reassure Cole of her commitment. "But if it'll make you feel better…" With that, she strode past him and re-entered the dining room slash living room.

"Hi," she greeted brightly as she approached the table of demons, her charm and warmth masking the potential storm that could follow. Many of them groaned at the sight of her again, a mix of dread and uncertainty evident, while others returned her greeting, hoping to avoid her hormonal wrath.

Phoebe stopped at the head of the table and placed her hands on the glass, adopting a conciliatory posture. "I just wanted to say that I'm really sorry for killing your friends last night." She chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood, but the room remained tense and silent. "Oh, and um... the night before that," she added casually, her nonchalant tone doing little to ease the tension.

Walking towards Malek, she continued, her hands resting on his shoulders, "And it's nothing personal, you know." She attempted to reassure them, her demeanor a mix of apology and matter-of-factness. However, her attempt to pacify was cut short when she was violently pulled into a premonition, the sudden shift in atmosphere signaling the gravity of the vision.

In the vivid premonition, a man walked down a deserted alley. Malek shimmered in behind him, forming an energy ball. With a swift and lethal motion, Malek released the energy ball, and the unsuspecting innocent met a fiery demise.

Cole's eyes narrowed as he watched his wife, attuned to the subtle signals that hinted at the supernatural forces at play. "Phoebe, was that a—"

"Cramp," Phoebe finished for him, her voice steady but strained. "I just need to lie down."

"Should I call the Seer?" Cole questioned cautiously, his concern evident.

"No," Buffy replied, her voice firm and authoritative. "I will see to the Queen." With that, she moved swiftly to accompany Phoebe, the unspoken understanding between Slayer and Queen guiding her actions.

Phoebe's eyes took in the projection of Gregory Conroy, the innocent from her premonition, displayed in the center of the table. The weight of the vision lingered in her thoughts, adding an extra layer of urgency to her need for rest. She exited the room, and Buffy followed closely behind, ready to attend to the needs of the Queen and the potential repercussions of the premonition.

As the door closed behind them, the room held a collective breath, the remaining demons exchanging uncertain glances. "Where were we?" Faith asked, breaking the silence once Phoebe and Buffy were gone. She and Cole headed back to the table, resuming the business at hand.

Phoebe peered through the crack she'd left between the doors, her eyes focused on the scene unfolding in the other room. Every word of the conversation, every detail, was absorbed by her keen senses as she listened in carefully, the weight of responsibility hanging in the air.

"Gregory Conroy," Dane reiterated to Faith and Cole, the name echoing in the room. "Malek's in for the kill. He spends his time at the Mission Hill Community Centre."

Phoebe closed the door to her bedroom as quietly as possible, her mind racing with the implications of the impending event. She turned towards her tonic on autopilot, the routine momentarily providing a semblance of normalcy. However, the pungent smell of the tonic jolted her from her thoughts, and she groaned in frustration. With a swift, impulsive motion, she deposited the contents of the glass into the nearby plant pot, her focus now consumed by the urgency of the situation unfolding outside.

As she turned towards her closet to change, Buffy's concerned voice cut through the room. "Are you okay, Phoebe?" Buffy's worry was palpable. "It looked like you had a premonition."

Phoebe paused, her eyes meeting Buffy's in the reflection of the mirror. The gravity of the situation hung between them, and Phoebe mustered a weak smile, attempting to alleviate the concern in Buffy's eyes. "Yeah, just a little glimpse of the future. We need to move quickly."

"Move quickly?" Buffy asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and concern, as she gently placed a reassuring hand on Phoebe's shoulder. The room seemed to hold its breath, awaiting Phoebe's response to the urgency of the situation outside.

In that moment, as Buffy's touch connected with Phoebe, Buffy was unexpectedly thrown into a premonition. The world around her shifted, and she found herself immersed in the vivid scenes of a future yet to unfold. The images unfolded like a story, revealing a snapshot of hers and Faith's daughter at six years old—moments of laughter, innocence, and love.

Buffy watched the tender moments between her and Faith and their daughter, the warmth of their connection palpable even in the premonition. A sense of pride and protectiveness swelled within her as she glimpsed the resilience and strength that echoed the legacy of the Charmed Ones in the next generation.

As the premonition ebbed away, Buffy returned to the present moment, the weight of the vision lingering in her thoughts.

"Buffy?" Phoebe's voice broke through the contemplative silence. "Did you just have a premonition?"

"Yes," Buffy answered, her tone carrying a mixture of wonder and certainty. "Of Prudence." The name hung in the air, a beacon of hope and promise for a future that awaited them, and Buffy's heart swelled with a deep sense of connection and purpose.

"Of Prudence?" Phoebe asked, her surprise evident as she registered the revelation. A sudden realization dawned upon her—Buffy had just glimpsed a future involving Buffy and Faith's daughter. The implications of this revelation resonated within Phoebe, stirring a mix of emotions as she considered the significance of Buffy's vision.

The room seemed to hold its breath as Phoebe processed the revelation. Her mind was a swirl of thoughts, and she couldn't help but wonder about the nature of the premonition. Was it a sign of the real Buffy trying to fight her way to the surface, emerging from the depths buried beneath the layers of evil and corruption associated with the Slayer line?

"You haven't had a premonition of her in a while," Phoebe remarked, her voice a blend of curiosity and a touch of concern. She couldn't shake the feeling that the supernatural forces at play were signaling something significant, possibly a shift in the intricate tapestry of their lives.

Halliwell Manor

"These are meant to slow an attacker down," Piper explained to Leo and Paige from her place on the floor, surrounded by an array of vials on the coffee table. Her hands deftly moved over the collection, each vial containing a different magical concoction. "But not do real, serious harm. It's kind of like magical Mace."

Paige nodded in agreement, acknowledging the pragmatic approach to self-defense. "Sounds reasonable."

Piper's gaze shifted to the more varied vials, each one a different color, indicating a more potent and potentially lethal nature. "These are a little more lethal," she continued, her tone matter-of-fact. "Explosives, paralytics, your garden-variety of poisons." The list rolled off her tongue casually, but the weight of the options hung in the air.

Leo's frown deepened as he processed the information. "So, you're gonna poison Phoebe, Faith, and Buffy?" His concern and disapproval were evident.

"Leo, Phoebe's carrying the spawn of the Source," Piper reminded him tersely. "She's throwing fire from her hands. And Faith is the Source's heir, and Buffy is their general. If they show up here, we'll do what we have to do to protect ourselves."

Paige interjected quietly, her plea carrying the weight of moral consideration. "You're not even giving them a chance."

"Paige, we have given them every chance in the world to come back to us, and they threw it in our faces," Piper snapped, the hurt she was feeling seeping into her voice as it cracked on the last word. "They all chose the Source of All Evil over their own family."

The tension hung thick in the air, a palpable silence that spoke volumes about the pain and betrayal that had torn the Halliwell family apart. The bitter reality of their choices echoed in Piper's words, leaving the room heavy with the weight of a fractured sisterhood.

"Surprise," Phoebe greeted, her voice cutting through the charged atmosphere as she and Buffy flamed into the room. The casual tone belied the underlying tension, and the room seemed to shrink with the unexpected presence of those they once considered family.

Piper's reaction was swift. Snatching up one of the less lethal potions, she hurled it towards Phoebe and Buffy, a desperate attempt to defend against a threat she never thought would come from within their own circle. However, Buffy, ever the skilled fighter, raised her hand and telekinetically sent the vial flying into a wall where it shattered. A smirk played on her lips. "You will not harm the Queen," she snarled, a declaration that cut through the room like a chilling wind.

Piper, now on her feet, folded her arms across her chest defensively, her eyes narrowing as she demanded, "What do you two want?" The air crackled with tension as the sisters faced off, the wounds of betrayal still fresh and raw.

Phoebe raised her eyebrows in mock surprise, her approach slow and deliberate. "Oh, and here Buffy and I thought you'd be happy to see us." The mocking tone betrayed the deeper currents of pain and longing beneath the surface, an attempt to mask the vulnerability that lingered in the wake of their choices.

Paige couldn't help but smile at the exchange between her sisters. As she walked towards Piper, she decided to take a different approach and offered a genuine response, "I'm happy to see you both."

"P-Paige," Piper warned, her tone now a mix of frustration and concern, sensing that Paige's warm welcome might complicate their already tense situation.

"What?" Paige replied with a shrug, and Phoebe and Buffy scoffed at her easy acceptance.

"Unless you're here to tell us you filed for divorce, we don't really have much to talk about," Piper declared firmly, shaking her head. She directed a pointed glare at Buffy. "And unless Faith is renouncing her position as the Source's heir and you as their general, then the same is true for you."

Phoebe, however, was quick to challenge Piper's assertion. "Oh, that's not true," she interjected, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "For instance, we could talk about how rigid you are." The insult rolled off Phoebe's lips effortlessly, and it was evident that she was relishing the verbal sparring. "It's really not a very attractive quality."

Piper's face hardened in response, and she reached for another potion, only to have Paige grab her arm, attempting to temper the escalating tension.

"Wait." Leo ordered firmly, stepping towards them, his eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and confusion. "Phoebe, Buffy, what are you two doing here?" he addressed his sister-in-law and niece evenly, searching for an explanation to make sense of their unexpected presence.

Phoebe sighed, officially bored and a little disappointed by the lack of drama. She moved to take the nearest seat, a nonchalant expression on her face, while Buffy positioned herself protectively beside her. "I had a premonition," Phoebe announced, cutting through the tension with her straightforward explanation. "We have an innocent to save and not a lot of time."

Paige's face lit up at Phoebe's words, her excitement evident as she nudged Piper. "That is so great," she exclaimed, a glimmer of hope sparking in her eyes. "Look, I told you."

Phoebe, however, quickly tempered any rising optimism. "Don't get excited," she chastised, her tone firm. "It's not what you think. I haven't changed my mind. I'm not leaving Cole, and I'm not renouncing my crown."

Buffy echoed Phoebe's sentiment. "And I am not leaving Faith," she added emphatically. "And I am not renouncing my position as general of the Underworld."

Phoebe took a moment to explain herself, her words carrying a simple sincerity. "It's just… I've never ignored a premonition in my life, and I'm not about to start now."

"Uh... Phoebe, you're evil," Piper stated evenly, her eyes locked onto Phoebe's with a mix of disbelief and resignation. "You're like, the queen of all evil. Literally. And, Buffy, you are the general of the Underworld; you're evil as well."

Piper's words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the choices Phoebe and Buffy had made and the paths they had willingly walked. The weight of their allegiance to the dark forces loomed large in the room, casting a shadow over the once unbreakable bond of sisterhood.

Buffy met Piper's gaze with a stoic expression, unfazed by the accusation. However, as Piper spoke, a sudden and unexpected surge of images flooded Buffy's mind. She was pulled into a premonition, a glimpse into the future that unfolded before her eyes like a vivid tapestry.

In the vision, Buffy found herself standing alongside Faith, watching their daughter at the age of ten. The scenes played out in fragments—moments of laughter, challenges overcome, and a bond that transcended the darkness that surrounded them. The images portrayed a complex tapestry of love and family, leaving Buffy with a mix of emotions.

As the premonition released its hold on her, Buffy blinked, returning to the present moment with the weight of the vision still lingering in her thoughts.

Paige's keen eyes darted towards Buffy, immediately recognizing the subtle signs of someone experiencing a premonition.

Meanwhile, Phoebe maintained a confident smile directed at Piper, seemingly indifferent to the gravity of the situation. "That's beside the point," she remarked casually, her demeanor suggesting an air of detachment.

"How can that be beside the point?" Piper uttered; her frustration evident as she shook her head in disbelief. The incongruity between the potential future glimpsed in the premonition and their current choices hung heavily in the air.

Paige, ever the pragmatist, decided to voice her perspective. "I say we do it," she announced from beside Piper, her eyes reflecting determination.

Piper turned to Paige, a mixture of surprise and incredulity in her wide eyes. "What?" she snapped; her disbelief palpable.

Undeterred, Paige flashed a tight smile at Phoebe, her decision made. "Excuse us," she said firmly, taking both Piper and Leo by the elbows and forcefully dragging them back a few steps.

Phoebe rolled her eyes, a clear display of her disinterest, as she observed the trio huddled together at a safe distance, their voices hushed in fervent conversation.

Paige, however, clung to a glimmer of hope, her eyes alight with optimism. "Look, this is what we've been hoping for," she gushed, her tone carrying the weight of desperate expectation. "A sign that there's still good in them. Why else would either Phoebe or Buffy care about saving an innocent?"

Piper, ever the skeptic, held firm in her conviction. "Because it's a trap," she insisted, her voice unwavering.

"Piper, this could be our only chance," Paige reasoned desperately, attempting to break through her sister's resistance.

Leo, caught in the middle of the familial dispute, offered his perspective. "I think Paige is right," he informed his wife, his eyes searching for understanding in hers. "Maybe by helping them do good, it might sway her back to our side."

Reluctantly, Piper relented with a resigned sigh. "Fine."

Paige, seizing the opportunity to share another crucial piece of information, added, "There is something else. Did either of you notice, Buffy had a premonition just now?"

Piper's eyes flickered with a mix of curiosity and concern, mirroring the internal struggle within the family. "Buffy had a premonition?" she repeated, her skepticism now tinged with a trace of curiosity.

Leo nodded, adding, "It could be a sign. Maybe she's not entirely lost to the darkness."

Paige seized the opportunity, hoping to further sway her sister's perspective. "See, Piper? This could be the turning point we've been waiting for. If they're having visions about doing good, then maybe there's still a chance to bring them back."

Piper's expression remained guarded, but a flicker of doubt crossed her features.

Paige strode purposefully back towards Phoebe and Buffy, determination etched on her face. "Okay, you're on. We'll follow you," she declared, casting a glance at Piper, who nodded in agreement.

Piper, ever the cautious one, seized the moment to gather some potions from a nearby table. Buffy, curious and slightly wary, raised an eyebrow and inquired, "What's that for?"

"Insurance," Piper replied tersely, her gaze piercing as she secured vials filled with various magical concoctions. The unspoken message was clear — Piper wasn't about to place blind trust in the newly arrived duo, even if the cause appeared just.

Streets of San Francisco

Phoebe and Buffy flamed into the grimy alley from the vision Phoebe had experienced earlier. Piper and Leo smoothly orbited in behind them, while Paige, true to her usual luck, materialized up front with a look of disgust on her face.

"Eww!" Paige whined, surveying her mud-covered shoes with evident displeasure. "Why do I always have to land in the mud?" she grumbled, her frustration evident.

Buffy, seizing the opportunity for a playful jab, smirked and commented, "Now you understand how I always felt, Paige."

Ignoring the banter, Phoebe beckoned Paige over to their hiding spot behind a stack of crates. Despite her complaints, Paige trudged over, muttering under her breath. The group crouched down, hidden from view, their eyes focused on the surroundings, awaiting the imminent attack.

As they settled into position, Leo, always the voice of reason, spoke from the back, breaking the tense silence, "How do you know when he's gonna get attacked?"

"I am the General of the Underworld," Buffy replied defiantly, her stance unyielding. "And Phoebe is the Queen. We know."

"There he is," Phoebe announced, her eyes locking onto Greg as he came into view, Malek shimmering in behind him like a shadow.

In a swift and coordinated move, Piper raised one hand, freezing the innocent, halting him in his tracks. Greg furrowed his brows, scanning his surroundings for the unseen force that had abruptly interrupted his movements.

"Hey," Piper greeted with forced cordiality as she and the rest of the group revealed themselves to him, emerging from their concealment behind the crates.

Malek, however, responded to the intrusion with a smug smirk. Piper's expression darkened, and without hesitation, she brought up her hands, flicking her wrists to unleash her powers. Malek, undeterred, turned to face her, energy ball at the ready, an ominous glow intensifying within its fiery core.

Seeing the impending danger, Buffy swiftly reacted, throwing her arms around Piper and shifting her aim from Malek to a nearby motorcycle. The bike exploded into a burst of sparks and flames, eliciting a surprised cry from Piper.

"What are you doing?" Piper protested as Malek advanced on them, his malevolence palpable in the charged atmosphere.

"Stop," Phoebe ordered sternly, striding forward with her hand raised.

Malek inclined his head, a deep frown etched across his demonic features as he recognized Phoebe and Buffy as his queen and the general of the Underworld. The swirling energy ball in his hand evaporated, and he obediently fell to one knee. "My Queen. General," he intoned respectfully.

Phoebe crouched down to his level, her gaze firm and unwavering. "Leave that innocent alone," she commanded, her voice cutting through the charged air. "Go."

"You heard the Queen," Buffy added, her tone echoing the authority vested in her position.

Malek nodded in acknowledgment, rose to his feet, and with a swift shimmer, he disappeared from the scene.

Phoebe and Buffy turned back to Piper, Paige, and Leo, who had cautiously distanced themselves, observing the exchange with a mixture of uncertainty and wariness.

"What?" Phoebe asked with an indifferent shrug, her nonchalant demeanor unapologetic. "He's one of my subjects," she explained to them, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"And one of my soldiers," Buffy added, her tone carrying a hint of pride in her newfound role as the general of the Underworld.

Piper stared at them with disbelieving eyes, her frustration and disappointment palpable. She sighed, shaking her head in exasperation. "How, how, how could you two do that?" she cried incredulously at Phoebe and Buffy. "How could you two just let him go?"

"I don't know why you're so upset," Phoebe mused, as she casually leaned against a nearby dumpster, as if the act of saving an innocent were routine and unremarkable.

"We saved the innocent, didn't we?" Buffy added, her defense resonating with a hint of defiance. In their minds, the ends justified the means, and the moral ambiguity of their actions seemed lost on the dark duo.

"I can't talk to them!" Piper cried, turning to her husband, her frustration evident. Her mind momentarily flashed back to simpler times when the decisions they faced were less morally complex.

"Phoebe, Buffy—" Leo began, but the impatient queen cut him off before he could even finish his sentence.

"Things are not as black and white as they used to be, okay?" Buffy insisted, her tone carrying a hint of defiance and justification.

"We can't just go around killing demons anymore," Phoebe added, crossing her arms defiantly as if challenging their ingrained beliefs.

"Why not?" Paige questioned, her curiosity and confusion evident. "We heard you killed two last night."

"Yeah, well, that was different," Phoebe snapped, her irritation apparent. "He was getting on my nerves."

Paige raised her eyebrows at her sister's comment, sensing there was more to the story, and Phoebe sighed, realizing that her explanation sounded bad.

"I promised Cole and Faith I wouldn't kill anymore," Phoebe explained to them reluctantly, her gaze shifting to the ground. "And killing Malek would have been a huge betrayal."

"The same is true for me," Buffy added with a nod. "While I may not have promised, I feel it would be a betrayal of my love for Faith."

"Malek?" Piper echoed, rejoining the conversation, her confusion evident. "You two are on a first-name basis with the demons?"

Buffy and Phoebe exchanged bitter laughs, acknowledging the absurdity of their current situation. The exhaustion from their struggles and the weight of their choices seemed to hang heavily in the air.

"If you were just gonna order him to stop, you could've done that on your own," Leo observed, his concern evident. "Why did you two even come to us?"

"Because we missed you guys!" Buffy admitted, her tone carrying a mix of vulnerability and sincerity. Tears welled up in Phoebe's eyes again as she gazed at her family, laying bare the longing that had lingered beneath the surface. "Okay? Is that so wrong? Buffy and I both missed you."

"Well, Phoebe, you can't be the queen of the underworld and a Charmed One. You can't have it both ways," Leo stated firmly. "And, Buffy, you can't be general of the Underworld and a Slayer born of the Spellman line. You also can't have it both ways."

"Why not?" Phoebe argued, a note of defiance in her voice. "Just because it's different doesn't mean that it can't work. And you all miss me and Buffy too, even though I'm sure Piper probably doesn't want to admit it to herself," she quipped, a trace of a teasing smile on her lips as Piper shook her head.

"Of course, we miss you both, honey," Paige assured her sister and niece gently, trying to bridge the emotional gap.

"Well, you can have us back." Phoebe cried, her voice holding a desperate plea. "You can have the Power of Three back. You just have to be willing to meet me and Buffy halfway," she concluded, her eyes locking onto Piper's with a mixture of hope and uncertainty.

"Halfway," Buffy added, echoing Phoebe's sentiment.

"Phoebe, Buffy," Piper breathed, her voice strained with frustration and confusion. "You can't protect the innocent and save demons. It just doesn't work that way."

"Apparently, it does," Buffy countered, a determined glint in her eyes as she tilted her head, observing Piper's conflicted expression. "He's alive, isn't he?"

Piper shook her head, unable to find the right words to articulate the conflicting emotions swirling within her. The reality that the rules she had known as a Charmed One were being rewritten before her eyes left her disoriented and disheartened.

"Yeah, but your friend Malek is gonna come back," Paige reasoned, attempting to introduce some practicality into the conversation, her voice the calm amidst the storm.

"You don't know that," Phoebe disagreed, shaking her head with conviction.

"Phoebe's right," Buffy added, standing firm beside her. Their unity showcased the strength of their newfound perspective.

"That's what they do—they come back." Piper seethed, her frustration boiling over, the weight of the impossible choices pressing down on her. "They snarl and come back."

"Yeah, and now we have to worry about protecting him..." Paige jerked her hand towards their innocent forcefully, emphasizing the immediate concern, "...instead of trying to save you two and Faith."

Phoebe blinked, processing Paige's words, and for the first time, the reality of their actions and their impact on their family hit her. "You think we and Faith need saving?"

"Are you kidding me?" Piper uttered with exasperation, her frustration palpable. "That baby inside you has corrupted you more than you think, Phoebe. And we learned the herbs that Faith had eaten for nausea were what turned her and, in turn, corrupted the Slayer line and turned you, Buffy."

Phoebe scoffed, attempting to dismiss the accusation. "Piper—"

"Don't 'Piper' me," Piper snapped, her voice resolute as she shook her head in disbelief. "This is insane. What you and Buffy are saying is insane! You cannot come back. You cannot work with us as long as you are married to the Source. As long as Faith is his heir and you, Buffy, are their general."

Phoebe's anger surged as she absorbed Piper's demand, her eyes ablaze with resentment. "So, what do you want me to do? You want me to leave my husband?" she seethed, her voice trembling with indignation.

"Yes," Piper replied, her tone unyielding.

"THAT IS NOT FAIR!" Phoebe screeched, pointing an accusatory finger at Piper, frustration boiling over into sheer rage. The room crackled with tension, and Buffy, sensing the escalating conflict, stepped forward to confront Piper.

Buffy's eyes narrowed, a mix of frustration and defiance evident in her gaze. She closed the distance between them, refusing to back down. "You know, Piper, it's not like we asked for any of this," she declared sharply. "I didn't choose to be the Slayer. Faith didn't choose to be the Source's heir. And Phoebe certainly didn't choose to fall in love with Cole. But here we are, dealing with the cards we've been dealt."

She shot a quick, supportive glance at Phoebe, who stood beside her, sharing a look of solidarity. "We've made our choices, and we're not asking for your approval. But we won't let anyone tell us we can't protect the innocent just because our lives don't fit into your neat little box of good and evil."

"It's not fair," Leo agreed, his voice carrying a gentle understanding. "But you have to pick a side. Good or evil. That's how it works," he said, his words filled with a somber truth. "Even though it means giving up someone you love, you have to choose."

Phoebe swallowed hard, her eyes flickering with a mixture of sadness and determination as she met each of their stares. In a soft, heartfelt whisper, she admitted, "I'm really sorry you feel that way." With a shared glance, Phoebe and Buffy clasped hands, and in a burst of flames, they disappeared from the room, leaving behind a heavy silence.

Piper shook her head, tears rushing to her eyes as a deep sense of loss settled in her chest. "I can't do this," she announced firmly, passing the potions bag off to Paige. "I, I just can't."

Paige frowned, concern etched on her face. "What about Greg?" she called after Piper, but her sister was already on the move, unfreezing the innocent as she continued to run away.

"Oh no, not again," Greg sighed, discovering his missing bike. He turned to Paige and Leo, a hint of frustration in his voice. "Did you guys see anybody take off on a chrome and orange bicycle?"

"No, sorry," Paige answered with a shrug, exchanging a bewildered look with Leo.

"I don't even know why I bother to lock it," Greg muttered, shaking his head and walking away, leaving Paige and Leo contemplating their next move.

"Uhhh… what should we do?" Paige asked Leo, uncertainty written across her face.

"Follow him," Leo answered, his gaze determined.

Underworld

"They were animal sacrifice cavern," Dane explained as he showed Cole and Faith through said caverns, "For the most part, they've been abandoned."

The torchlight flickered, casting eerie shadows on the cavern walls as the trio navigated through the damp and echoing chambers. The air was thick with the musty scent of ages past, and the distant echoes of forgotten rituals seemed to linger in the air.

Cole handed the fire torch to Faith with a sigh, his frustration evident. "Waste of space, don't you think? Put a team on it," he ordered, his voice echoing off the stone walls. "Have it cleaned out—"

"My liege, Heir," Malek called sternly as he approached them, his footsteps echoing through the cavern. His expression carried a weight of urgency, and the dim light danced on the edges of his concerned eyes.

Faith stepped into Malek's path, her eyes narrowing as she demanded, "State your business."

"I have news for you and the Source," Malek answered, his gaze shifting between Faith and Cole. "It concerns his queen and the general."

Cole's brow furrowed, and a knot of worry tightened in his chest. He nodded to Faith, who stepped aside, granting Malek an audience. "What happened?" Cole demanded, his voice laced with concern. "Are they hurt?"

"No," Malek assured Cole and Faith, the urgency in his voice echoing off the cavern walls. "The Charmed Ones interfered with my kill."

Cole turned to Dane; his arms outstretched in a gesture of exasperation. "I have no control over my in-laws."

"And I do not have control of my aunts," Faith added, her tone wry as she looked at Malek. "If you want them out of the way, I suggest you take back-up."

"No, my liege, Heir." Malek addressed Cole and Faith again, his expression tense. "You do not understand, the queen and the general were with them," he informed the Source and his heir hesitantly. A heavy silence settled over the group as Malek's revelation hung in the air. The flickering torchlight cast shifting shadows on their faces, emphasizing the gravity of the situation. "The queen and the general ordered me not to harm the innocent. I thought you both should know."

Cole approached him, his footsteps echoing in the cavern. He stopped directly in front of Malek, his eyes searching for any sign of deception. "Have you told anyone else?"

"No. I came straight to the two of you," Malek answered, his loyalty evident in his unwavering gaze. He awaited Cole's response, expecting to be rewarded for his dedication and discretion.

Cole placed his hand on Malek's shoulder, a silent acknowledgment of the loyalty that bound them in the face of danger, and rested their foreheads together. "Thank you… for your loyalty," he murmured, a mixture of gratitude and concern in his voice. He cast a glance at Faith as he stepped back, a silent understanding passing between them.

Faith's eyes, once vibrant, turned to fire and then black, a manifestation of her supernatural power. Malek screamed as he burst into flames, the sudden eruption of heat and sound echoing through the cavern. The intensity of the moment left Dane gulping in fear, his eyes wide as he witnessed the display of formidable magic.

Cole and Faith turned their attention to Dane, who, despite his fear, summoned the courage to question, "Am I next?" His bravery echoed in the shaky undertone of his voice.

Cole shook his head, a mix of frustration and understanding etched on his face. "No, Dane. You… we trust. It's just my damn wife!" He shot a pointed look at Faith. "And yours."

"With all due respect..." Dane spoke up, his words carrying a note of wisdom as Cole and Faith strode away, leaving the dissipating flames behind. "...I think you two better take care of the innocent before others hear of this."

Cole and Faith exchanged glances, their expressions reflecting the gravity of the situation. Nodding in unison, Cole threw up his hand, summoning another demon before them. The straggly-haired, blond figure looked around wildly before his gaze settled on Cole and Faith. "My liege. Heir," he greeted, dropping to one knee respectfully, fully aware of the power and authority they held.

"Get up," Cole ordered briskly. "We have a job for you."

Dry Dock Corporation

"The only requirement for membership is a desire to stop drinking. There are no dues or fees for membership. We are self-supporting through our own contribution. We do not wish to engage in any controversy, neither endorse nor oppose..."

Paige and Leo listened to the spokeswoman drone on and on, opening the AA meeting, as they stood at the back of the hall, not really hearing what she was saying at all, only watching their innocent like a hawk.

Leo glanced nervously at his youngest sister-in-law, and as of late the only level headed sister, rocking back and forth on his heels. "So, do you really think Piper's okay?" he asked her, digging his hands into his coat pockets and leaning down so she could hear him.

Paige glanced at him, choosing her words carefully before replying with, "I don't know." Honesty always being the best policy in their family. "I think it's good that she's feeling something again," she stressed with a hopeful smile and a small nod.

"Right," Leo agreed uncertainly, bobbing his head. "Right. You're right. She's probably fine."

"Is anyone celebrating 30 days today?" the spokeswoman asked the room and Paige just repressed the urge to roll her eyes.

"So, you just think I just need to give her some space, right?" Leo asked.

"You could try that, yeah." Paige nodded and her voice sounded weak even to her own ears.

Leo remained unconvinced as he voiced his thoughts, "It's just… when Piper lost Prue, she barely survived and she thinks she's gonna really lose not only Phoebe but Faith as well and I think she might just..." he trailed off shaking his head.

Paige bit her lip and turned to him fully with a sympathetic gaze, "Listen, just go talk to her, okay?" she suggested lightly, attempting to mask her own concerns in favor of his. "Remind her that we have a demon to fight and that will do her some good, take her mind off Phoebe, Faith and Buffy. And you might think about grabbing Willow when you do."

Leo nodded again, agreeing with her a little more now, "Right, right. What about you?" he questioned turning critical eyes on the youngest Halliwell, last name or no.

"Me? I'm fine," Paige assured him dismissively. "Listen, I don't think Malek's gonna attack in front of all these people," she observed, scanning the room once more. "So just, go get Piper and bring her back before the meeting's over. Okay?"

"Okay, yeah," Leo said as he left.

The Bay Mirror

Phoebe and Buffy sat at their desks, a casual air about them, seemingly absorbed in their own world, when their boss, Elise, burst into the room, a stormy expression on her face.

"Where's the real copy?" Elise demanded expectantly, her tone cutting through the laid-back atmosphere.

Phoebe and Buffy raised their eyes to meet the older woman's gaze, exchanging a bemused glance as Phoebe asked, her words slow and deliberate, "Excuse us?"

Elise approached Phoebe's desk, her frustration apparent but tempered with a hint of amusement. "This is cute, very clever, and I appreciate the evening chuckle," she commented kindly. "But I need to see the real pages."

Buffy, feeling a surge of indignation, slammed her book closed. "Are you calling our writing a joke?" Her tone held a mix of offense and defiance.

Elise put her glasses back on, maintaining a composed demeanor as she began reading the content in question with a pointed emphasis. "Dear Betrayed, We suggest you beat your cheating husband with his secretary's stapler. Then he'll think twice before bending her over her desk again."

Phoebe and Buffy smirked proudly as their words were read back to them, the unapologetic nature of their advice evident in their expressions. "Well…" Phoebe leaned back in her seat, the corners of her lips curling into a sly smile as she slowly pulled off her glasses. "…might be a little harsh, but I think it makes a point." She shot a glance at Buffy. "Right?"

"Right, Pheebs," Buffy agreed with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes, fully aligned with her partner in crime.

"What it makes is a lawsuit!" Elise exclaimed, tearing off her glasses unimpressed. The gravity of the situation, however, seemed to elude the two confident writers. "So unless you two are looking to lose your jobs…"

Buffy and Phoebe simultaneously slammed their hands down on their desks, shooting to their feet in a display of defiance. "Are you threatening us?" Phoebe demanded, her voice taking on a dark and challenging tone.

Elise stared at the pair, a mix of curiosity and frustration in her expression. "I'm telling you two to get a shrink if you have to, but get it together!" she cried, tossing the offending column down on her desk. Just as she turned around to emphasize her point, she found herself face-to-face with Cole and Faith, who had silently approached from behind, leaning against the doorframe casually.

"Rewrite that column and do it fast," Elise ordered sternly, her eyes narrowing as she exchanged glances with Cole and Faith, both of whom seemed to be observing the unfolding drama with an air of detached amusement.

Phoebe, not one to back down easily, conjured a fireball in the palm of her hand, her eyes flashing with a mix of determination and a touch of mischief. The air in the room crackled with tension as Cole and Faith remained silent, their expressions betraying no hint of surprise or concern.

"My Queen," Buffy hissed quietly, her words just audible enough for Phoebe to hear.

"Excuse me," Elise demanded impatiently, her frustration evident. Cole and Faith exchanged knowing smiles, their expressions unreadable as they slowly stepped aside to let her pass.

Once Elise had made her way through, Cole and Faith turned their attention back to their respective spouses. Phoebe, having extinguished the fireball, sat back down, her features a mix of resignation and amusement. Cole addressed her with a serious tone, "If you want to kill your boss, we have people who can take care of that for you."

Phoebe couldn't help but smile at his remark. "Aren't you sweet. Truth is…" She sighed tiredly, a hint of vulnerability creeping into her expression, "…she's right. Our advice was a little off this week."

"I don't understand what you two are doing here," Faith told Phoebe and Buffy honestly, stepping into the office and closing the door behind her and Cole, the blinds drawn for added privacy.

"Faith is right, your queen," Cole reminded his wife, a silent agreement passing between them.

Faith moved closer to Buffy, her gaze piercing. "And you are our general."

"And you two are cranky," Buffy shot back, her tone light but tinged with a sense of defiance.

"I told you I'm not quitting my job," Phoebe informed her husband, her resolve evident. "And it would look a little suspicious if Buffy suddenly quit hers when I didn't."

Cole and Faith observed their respective partners, sharing a glance that conveyed an unspoken understanding of the challenges ahead. Cole, breaking the silence, walked towards the window, a contemplative expression on his face. "And what about your other jobs, you gonna keep those too?"

Buffy, never one to shy away from a challenge, questioned with a raised eyebrow, "And what jobs would that be, Cole?" His cryptic attitude didn't sit well with her.

"For Phoebe, the Charmed One, and for you, Buffy, the Slayer born from the Spellman line," Faith interjected, her words cutting through the ambiguity. Cole turned sharply to Phoebe, his eyes searching for a reaction.

"Malek told us what you both did," Faith continued, the weight of their knowledge hanging in the air.

"So what?" Phoebe complained, her nonchalant demeanor not entirely masking the underlying tension. "We let him go."

"That doesn't make it okay!" Cole snapped loudly, the tension in the room escalating. Phoebe shot to her feet once more, her frustration boiling over as she slammed her hands down on her desk.

"Keep your voice down," Phoebe ordered fiercely, her eyes flashing with a mix of anger and concern. "This is where Buffy and I work." She strode around her desk, her movements purposeful, and violently drew the last blind closed, cutting off prying eyes and confining their heated conversation to the confines of the office.

"You can't save an innocent and free a demon," Cole told Phoebe and Buffy evenly, his voice carrying the weight of experience. "It doesn't work like that."

Phoebe scoffed, dismissing the notion. "You sound like Piper."

"Aunt Piper's right," Faith insisted, her stance unwavering. The conviction in her voice echoed the experiences they had all shared in the realm of the mystical.

"You made a choice when you stood by me at the coronation," Cole reminded Phoebe, the gravity of their shared history hanging between them. "If you're questioning that choice now, if you're not sure you want to be with me, you need to let me know."

"And you, Buffy, stood by my side at the coronation," Faith reminded Buffy, her voice steady and demanding. "If you are having doubts, you need to tell me."

"Fine, but not here," Buffy said decisively, her hand reaching for Faith's. In a blink, they disappeared in a swirl of fiery flames, leaving behind nothing but the echo of their departure.

Phoebe, now alone with Cole, watched her nieces vanish before turning her attention back to him. "Of course, I want to be with you. I just don't understand why you have to be so rigid."

"BECAUSE I AM THE SOURCE!" Cole's voice reverberated through the room, a thunderous declaration that made Phoebe thankful for the thick walls that concealed their conversation. "BECAUSE YOU ARE MY QUEEN! BECAUSE THERE ARE EXPECTATIONS!"

Phoebe met his intensity with a challenging gaze, her voice low but laced with ferocity. "Do you think I care about anyone's expectations?"

"This is not a game, Phoebe," Cole reminded her, his voice returning to a more manageable level. "You walked through a one-way door. You try to go back now, and they will destroy us as well as Faith and Buffy."

"Who?" Phoebe asked, tilting her head at her husband. "My sisters?"

"The Underworld," Cole corrected sharply, his movements purposeful as he walked towards her. "If they think we're working both sides... they will revolt. If they do that... if they unite against us, Faith and Buffy..." He locked eyes with her, a gravity in his gaze that hinted at fear. "I promise, we, Faith and Buffy will all pray for death."

Phoebe dropped her head into her hands as her body began to shake, the weight of the situation settling heavily upon her. "I'm sorry I—" She closed her eyes, struggling to find the right words. "I didn't—I.."

"I get it, Phoebe," Cole assured her, his voice a mix of understanding and sympathy. "Better than anyone, I know what you're going through. It will rip you apart if you let it," he warned, his gaze unwavering.

Phoebe opened her eyes, desperation reflected in them as she pleaded, "How do I not let it?"

"You make a choice," Cole answered simply, his voice carrying the weight of experience. He stood before her, vulnerable and resolute. "And you stick to it. Even though it's hard, even though it means giving up the people that you love."

Phoebe stared at Cole, a heavy sigh escaping her lips as she shook her head, a wave of sadness washing over her. Now, he sounded like Leo—the echoes of familiar advice from another time, another life.

Cole, undeterred by the weight of the moment, held out his hand to her. "Let's go home."

Phoebe hesitated; her gaze fixed on his outstretched hand. The room seemed to hold its breath as she contemplated the gravity of their reality. After a moment of silence, she moved her trembling hands into his, the connection solidifying as she grasped tightly, allowing him to flame them out.

In an instant, the familiar sensation of flames enveloped them, and the room blurred before disappearing altogether.

UC Sunnydale

The soft hum of magical energy filled the air as Leo orbed into Willow and Tara's dorm room, appearing in a shimmer of light. Willow, deeply engrossed in her studies, looked up from her books, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Dad? What's up?" she asked, setting her pen down.

Leo took a moment to catch his breath, his concern evident in his eyes. "Willow, I need your help. It's Piper."

Willow's expression shifted from surprise to worry. "Mom? What happened?"

Leo quickly explained the situation, detailing Piper's recent struggles and the increasing strain on their family. "I don't know how to help her, and I thought maybe you and I could talk to her together," he admitted, a touch of desperation in his voice.

Willow nodded, her concern mirroring Leo's. "Of course, Dad. I'll do anything to help Mom."

The Towers

Buffy sat on her and Faith's bed, the weight of her premonitions pressing upon her shoulders. Her gaze remained fixed on a point in the distance, a distant look in her eyes that mirrored the depth of her visions. The room was hushed, charged with the revelation she was about to share.

"I've had premonitions, Faith," she disclosed, her voice steady yet carrying an underlying urgency. She didn't look up at Faith, the gravity of her words resonating in the room. "Three now in the last twenty-four hours. Of our daughter. Of Prudence, not Vixen. I'm receiving premonitions of Prudence on the side of good."

Faith, who had been pacing the room in a blend of anticipation and restlessness, immediately stopped in her tracks. The subtle shift in Buffy's tone caught her attention, and she glanced down at her pregnant belly. "Good?" she echoed, her eyes searching Buffy's face for any signs of doubt or uncertainty. "Are you sure, B?"

Buffy finally looked up, her eyes meeting Faith's with a mixture of apprehension and conviction. "Yeah," she affirmed, her voice carrying the weight of certainty. "I can feel it, Faith. It's like the visions are guiding me to a different Prudence—one who's fighting on the side of good."

Faith's brow furrowed in contemplation. The notion of Prudence, their daughter, aligning with the forces of good was a twist they hadn't anticipated. The unpredictability of their world had always kept them on their toes, but this revelation added a layer of complexity that felt both unnerving and intriguing.

"Maybe she's just playing us," Faith suggested, her skepticism evident. "Trying to throw us off her game."

Buffy shook her head, her expression unwavering. "No, Faith. These visions... they're too vivid, too real. Prudence is actively standing against the darkness. It's not a trick."

P3

Leo orbed in with Willow into the darkened and deserted nightclub, the faint echo of music still lingering in the air. Their eyes scanned the empty expanse, searching for Piper. The low hum of conversations and laughter that once filled the space had long since dissipated, leaving behind a haunting silence. They found her seated at a small table, legs balancing on top next to a trusty bottle of Jack Daniels, a solitary figure in the midst of the abandoned club.

"We're closed," Piper droned, her voice carrying a weary weight as she kept her arms crossed over her chest tightly, head bowed. The dim light cast shadows on her face, revealing the fatigue etched into her features.

Willow sighed sadly at the sight, her heart heavy with concern. "Mom—"

"I don't want to talk," Piper informed her adopted daughter sternly, not even giving Willow the chance to utter another word.

Leo regarded Piper closely for a moment before exchanging a glance with Willow. They shared an unspoken understanding, a recognition of the pain that had brought Piper to this desolate place. Silently, they walked towards her, determined to break through the walls she had erected around herself.

"I know you're feeling—" Leo began, his voice gentle and empathetic.

"Even more than I don't want to talk, I do not want a pep talk," Piper cut him off, her words slightly slurred due to the alcohol coursing through her veins. The bitterness in her tone echoed the depths of her despair, a stark contrast to the strong and resilient woman they knew her to be.

Leo stopped at the railing, leaning against it heavily, his expression a mix of concern and empathy. Willow moved closer to Piper, her eyes flickering between her adopted mother and the bottle of Jack, and the small glass tumbler.

"Mom, what are you doing?" Willow questioned, her voice gentle but probing as she gestured toward the bottle and glass.

Piper sighed irately, her shoulders slumping as she dropped her legs from the table one by one. She leaned her elbows on her knees, a weariness etched into her features. "What does it look like I am doing?" she asked, her tone laced with frustration. "I am trying to stop myself from feeling like the failure that I am."

"You're not a failure," Leo assured her firmly, his voice carrying the weight of conviction. Piper poured herself another glass, and Leo's concern deepened. "It's not your fault that Phoebe, Faith, and—"

"I am Phoebe's sister, Faith's aunt, and Buffy's aunt by marriage!" Piper interrupted once more, her words punctuated by a bitter edge. "I am Phoebe's big sister and Faith's eldest aunt, and family, regardless if they are sisters or aunt and niece, are supposed to protect each other from things like this!" Her anger spilled out, directed inward. "I should have protected them, and it is my job to keep this family together," she explained slowly, as if breaking it down for herself and others. "It has been my whole life: keep the family together, simple as that, and look at this, my friend, I am a failure," she concluded with a sharp nod.

"Mom, you're not a failure," Willow spoke softly, her voice carrying a mix of empathy and sincerity. She moved even closer, standing beside Piper, her hand gently resting on her adopted mother's arm. "We're a family, and we face things together. Nobody blames you for what happened. We're all in this together."

Leo shook his head at her and, with a determined grip, pulled the bottle away. "That's enough," he ordered firmly, his gaze carrying a mixture of concern and frustration. Piper deflated further, her shoulders sagging as she slumped against the table.

"Paige, Pa—Paige could see that Cole, clearly, had turned evil!" Piper cried out, her voice carrying a desperate tone. She threw up her hands in exasperation. "And she tried to tell me over and over and over. That doesn't even sound like a word anymore."

Willow tightened her jaw, the weight of her words hanging in the air as she tried to meet her adopted mother's eyes. "Mom, I didn't see that he was evil," she pointed out, her voice steady but laced with a tinge of regret. "Aunt Phoebe, Buffy, and Faith didn't see it at first."

"We didn't want to see it. We wanted a normal, happy family," Leo continued wistfully, his eyes full of regret for their collective blindness. "That's just human nature."

Piper slammed her empty glass down loudly, the sharp sound cutting through the air and silencing Leo abruptly. "Phoebe is my baby sister, and Faith is my niece," she whispered, her voice quivering as she fought to remain in control—the little control she still had left. She avoided her husband's and her daughter's loving gazes, unable to bear the weight of her own guilt. "And I let him destroy them and Buffy. That is not human nature," she disagreed, shaking her head before raising her eyes to meet theirs. "That is the nature of failure." The tears burning in Piper's eyes blurred her vision, and she blinked furiously in an attempt to clear them, only for the tears to fall more freely. She swiped at them aggressively.

"Alright, I'm not gonna listen to this anymore," Leo stated seriously, taking the bottle back from his wife. "You are a good witch and—"

Piper threw up her hand, freezing her husband mid-sentence. She rolled her eyes, a mixture of frustration and sorrow evident on her face. "I said, no pep talk." She snatched the bottle out of his immobile hand and began filling up her tumbler once more, sitting up straight.

Willow's heart sank as she witnessed the emotional turmoil unfolding in front of her. The weight of Piper's words and the visible pain etched on her face struck a chord deep within Willow. She couldn't stand to see someone she considered a second mother drowning in self-blame.

"Mom," Willow spoke softly, her voice a gentle plea. She stepped closer, her hand reaching out to touch Piper's shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "You're not a failure. None of us could have seen it coming. Cole deceived all of us."

Piper's eyes, red and puffy, met Willow's, and for a moment, the younger witch saw the vulnerability beneath the steely exterior. Willow's heart ached for Piper. "Dad's right," Willow continued, her voice sincere. "You're a good witch, a good sister, a good aunt, and a good mom. You can't blame yourself for something none of us could have predicted."

Piper, however, seemed resistant to the words of reassurance. She shook her head, disbelieving, and continued to pour herself another drink, as if trying to numb the pain with every sip.

Frustration welled up in Willow as she struggled to find the right words to break through Piper's self-imposed guilt. "Mom, we love you. We don't see you as a failure. We see you as the woman who's always held us together, even when everything was falling apart."

Piper quietly waved Willow off, her patience worn thin by the tumult of emotions swirling around her. She had heard enough from her adopted daughter, and the only thing she could wish for right now was the ability to freeze Willow like she had frozen Leo. The room remained silent, save for the distant echoes of music that seemed to mock the heavy atmosphere.

"Nobody listens around here anymore," Piper muttered to herself, a bitter undercurrent in her voice as she spoke to the empty space. The weight of her own thoughts pressed upon her, threatening to drown out any attempt at solace. With deliberate movements, she placed the half-empty bottle down on the table and brought the glass to her lips. Tipping it back, she leaned back in the chair, seeking a momentary escape in the cool liquid that offered a fleeting respite.

In her emotional haze, Piper miscalculated the precarious balance on the edge of the chair. As she leaned back, she went right off the end, the chair tipping over with her. The room filled with the unexpected sound of a thump as Piper hit the floor.

"Ow!" Piper exclaimed, the collision with the unforgiving floor jolting her back to the present. The mix of physical discomfort and the symbolic weight of her fall mirrored the emotional turmoil that enveloped her.

Meanwhile, Willow sighed, recognizing the need for reinforcements. As she watched Piper struggle both physically and emotionally, she knew that a united front was necessary. With determination, she headed out of the deserted club, pulling out her cell phone and dialing a familiar number.

Dry Dock Corporation

Paige watched with a focused intensity as Greg moved gracefully through the crowd, his warm demeanor and genuine smile evident as he congratulated each member on their respective day-marks. She couldn't help but feel a slight warmth, appreciating the positive impact he had on their community. It puzzled her why demons, creatures typically associated with malevolence, would target someone as caring and dedicated as Greg. What possible threat could he pose to them? The demons' motivations remained elusive, shrouded in a veil of uncertainty that frustrated Paige.

Shaking her head, Paige sighed, her thoughts a swirling tempest of confusion. In the midst of the mystical challenges they faced daily, some aspects of demon behavior remained inscrutable, defying logic and reason. It left her grappling with a sense of helplessness and a longing for answers that seemed elusive.

Her contemplation was interrupted by the loud chirp of her cell phone buried in her bag. Paige shifted her attention away from the enigmatic scene involving Greg, her eyes scanning the room as she fumbled for her phone. Finally, she managed to locate it, and with a distracted greeting, she answered, "Hello?"

"Aunt Paige?" came Willow's voice from the phone. The concern in Willow's tone snapped Paige back to the present, and she refocused on the conversation at hand.

"Willow?" Paige responded, her tone shifting from distraction to attention.

"Listen, we've got a situation here," Willow explained quickly. "Mom's in a rough spot, she's frozen Dad. I could use your help. Can you orb over to P3 right away?"

"I can't, Willow. I'm trying to protect our innocents on my own," Paige answered, her voice tinged with determination as she explained her current mission.

"You're what?" Willow exclaimed on the other end of the line, her eyes widening, and her brows arching in surprise. The sudden revelation had caught her off guard. "Why didn't someone tell me? I would have had Dad orb Tara to you when he came to get me. Is the demon there?"

Paige quickly scanned the room, her gaze darting around to ensure there was no sign of the demon. Spotting Greg by the door, a sense of urgency fueled her movements. "Crap," she cursed under her breath, swiftly maneuvering through the crowd to intercept him. As she pushed the door open, she continued the conversation with Willow.

"Uh… no, I don't see Malek anywhere," she reported to her niece. The door swung shut behind her just as Greg caught sight of Paige.

"You again," Greg stopped her, suspicion evident in his tone. "Are you following me?" he asked, his brows furrowing.

Paige's eyes widened, and she bit her lip, realizing the delicate situation she was in. "Uh… hold on, Willow," she whispered into the phone, then turned her attention to Greg with a forced smile. "Yes," Paige admitted honestly, descending a few steps to be on his level. "Strangely, I am, and I would love to explain it to you. It would be so much better if we could go talk inside, amidst the crowd," she pleaded, glancing around them apprehensively.

P3

Willow's heart stopped in her chest as she heard the commotion down the line. "Aunt Paige?" she called into the phone, her worry escalating with every second. The distant echoes of her aunt's yell only heightened her anxiety. "Aunt Paige!" she tried again, praying for her sister to answer, the silence on the other end deafening.

"Willow!" Paige's voice finally broke through the chaos, a mix of panic and urgency in her tone.

Relief washed over Willow, albeit briefly. "Aunt Paige, are you okay?" she asked with concern. "What's happening?"

"Demon!" Paige squealed, her voice trembling with fear. "Lightning bolt! It's, it's not our demon, Willow. LEO!"

"He's frozen, Aunt Paige," Willow informed her, her mind racing as she tried to process the unfolding situation.

"It's not Malek, it's someone—AH!" Paige's yelp cut through the air, and Willow's heart skipped a beat. "GREG! WILLOW, HELP!"

"Where are you?" Willow demanded, her voice filled with panic as she hurriedly made her way to Piper's jeep, a sense of urgency propelling her every step. The distant echoes of Paige's screams rang in her ears, intensifying the desperation that gripped her heart.

"AHH! WILLOW!" Paige screamed again, the sheer agony in her voice cutting through the air. Willow's stomach twisted in knots, her pulse quickening with every passing second.

The line suddenly went dead, and Willow's body went numb. Her grip on the phone tightened, as if holding on could somehow bring back the connection. "Aunt Paige?" she called urgently, her voice wavering with a mix of fear and determination. "Aunt Paige!" But there was nothing but silence on the other end. "AUNT PAIGE!" Willow's desperate cries echoed into the emptiness, her pleas hanging in the air, unanswered.

Fear and frustration surged through Willow as she stared at the lifeless phone in her trembling hands.

Willow paced back and forth, her mind wrestling with the internal conflict of uncertainty and necessity. The spell she contemplated was dangerous, an uncharted territory that held inherent risks. She had never attempted it before, and the unknown repercussions loomed over her decision. Yet, the urgency of the situation, the desperate need to reach Paige, outweighed her reservations.

With a deep breath, Willow steeled herself for what lay ahead. The incantation, a word imbued with ancient power, trembled on the tip of her tongue. The syllables resonated with a weight that echoed the gravity of her intentions. "Discede," she spoke, the word carrying a potent energy that rippled through the air.

In an instant, Willow vanished, her surroundings dissolving into a realm of swirling magic.

Dry Dock Corporation

"LIGHTNING BOLT!" Paige yelled, her voice resonating with determination as she held up her hand once again. The crackling energy surged, and the attack was redirected right back to her assailant, striking him square on the chest. Paige exhaled in relief, the tension in her shoulders easing momentarily, as she witnessed the demon recoiling from the unexpected retaliation. For the first time in the encounter, the tide seemed to be turning in her favor.

Scurrying over to the unconscious innocent who lay bleeding on the gravel, Paige's relief was short-lived. "Shit," she cursed under her breath, her focus shifting to the injured individual at her feet. Determinedly, she moved to press her hands on his wound, but a sharp hiss escaped her lips as her own injury protested the movement. "Damn it, where are my family!" Paige muttered to herself, her desperation mounting as she assessed the gravity of the situation.

Raising her head slowly, Paige heard a scuffle nearby, her eyes locking onto the demon as he got back to his feet, ready for another round. With a swift motion, he launched another lightning bolt toward her. Paige ducked, shielding the unconscious man's body with her own. Gritting her teeth against the pain in her arm, she raised her head just in time to cry out sharply as the bolt soared past them, narrowly missing its mark.

In that moment of vulnerability, Paige's gaze shifted to the end of the alley, where she spotted the unexpected arrival of her niece. "Hey jackass!" Willow growled with fierce determination. The demon spun around just in time to be sent hurtling down the alley with a mere wave of Willow's arm.

Paige sighed in relief as she watched Willow race towards her. "How'd you get here?" Paige inquired, puzzled yet grateful for the timely intervention.

"Teleportation spell. I've been working on it so I could come to visit without needing you or Dad to orb me," Willow explained as she reached down for Paige, who eagerly accepted the offered help. "Are you ok—oh my god, Aunt Paige, you're bleeding!" Willow gasped, her eyes widening in shock as she noticed the growing crimson stain on her aunt's orange-colored coat.

Paige nodded, wincing slightly as she looked down at her arm. "Yeah, but it's just a graze. I'm fine," she assured Willow with a grimacing smile. Her gaze shifted, and she noticed something on Willow's face. "Uhm, Willow," she said, indicating her niece's nose.

Willow swiped at her nose, revealing a trickle of blood. "I said I was working on a new spell, obviously don't have all the kinks worked out," she admitted with a sheepish grin.

Paige nodded, understanding the challenges that often came with experimenting in the magical realm. Her attention shifted to Greg's still form. "Uhm, our innocent isn't fine."

"Oh, goddess," Willow winced, bending down towards him.

"Willow," Paige said sharply, and Willow's head shot up just in time to see the demon send an athame her way. "ATHAME!" Paige seethed; her frustration evident. She drew her hand back, then threw it forward. Simultaneously, Willow flicked her fingers in the demon's direction, drawing him towards the flying blade. Aunt and niece watched in grim satisfaction as the demon screamed, engulfed by flames.

Paige turned to Willow, a genuine smile on her face. "Thanks, better late than never, right?" she quipped in a subtle, snarky tone as she crouched down next to Greg. "Let's just get out of here, okay?" she asked, holding out her hand for her niece to take.

P3

Paige concentrated, channeling her magic into the orbing process, and in a blink, they found themselves inside the familiar confines of P3. Wincing as she shifted her arm to stand, Paige raised her eyes, glancing around the room. Her brow creased into a frown when her gaze landed on her brother-in-law. "Leo?"

"He's frozen," Willow reminded her. "I didn't try to unfreeze him because I didn't want to anger Mom," she supplied, glancing around the empty club. "Oh no," she whispered with a sigh as her eyes fell on her unconscious mother.

Paige followed Willow's line of sight and gasped. "Oh my god, Piper!" she cried, racing towards her sister and climbing over the bars to get to her. Willow took the long way around, shoving Leo to free him from his frozen state when she reached him.

Leo, still caught in the time freeze, had been oblivious to the events unfolding around him. As the world resumed its normal pace, he found himself surrounded by a fuming Paige and a concerned Willow. "What?" he questioned, shaking his head in confusion.

"Mom froze you," Willow explained. "And at the time, I didn't want to risk her anger in unfreezing you. But now…" She motioned toward Piper, her expression carrying a mix of urgency and worry.

Leo followed his adopted daughter's gaze to find his passed-out wife lying at her feet. "Oh." He sighed, his gaze lingering on Piper with a mixture of sadness and concern. His gaze shifted from Piper to Willow, concern etched on his features. "Are you okay?" he asked, noting the dried blood on her nose.

"New spell," Willow explained. "I was working on a teleportation spell so you and Aunt Paige wouldn't have to orb me back and forth from Sunnydale all the time. Still have some kinks to work out apparently."

"What about you, Paige?" Leo inquired, turning his attention to his sister-in-law.

Paige grimaced, holding out her arm. "Barely. It was a different demon this time; they really want that guy dead. You're gonna have to heal him and orb him somewhere safe."

"Then what?" Leo questioned as he began the healing process on Greg.

"Can you heal Mom?" Willow requested, her eyes reflecting hope.

Leo looked up as Greg began to awaken with a groan. "No, I can't heal self-inflicted wounds," he informed Willow, walking to Paige's side.

Paige sighed. "Great, now I'm down two sisters and two nieces," she cursed, bending down at Piper's side and lightly slapping her neck while Leo healed her arm from above.

"AHH!" Piper yelped, swatting Paige's hand away in her alcohol-induced haze.

Paige glanced up at Leo. "Once you have Greg secured someplace. You might go up to the Elders. See if you can find out anything about Buffy's premonitions."

Leo nodded in understanding. "Will do. And, Willow, we'll need to talk about that teleportation spell. We can't have you getting nosebleeds every time you use it."

Willow nodded, her gaze shifting between her family members. "Yeah, I'll fine-tune it. No more nosebleeds, I promise."

The Towers

Phoebe and Buffy paced the floor in Phoebe's bedroom, the weight of their conflicting duties pressing down on them like a heavy burden. Their minds were a whirlwind of thoughts, desperately seeking a compromise that would allow them to fulfill their obligations to the underworld and maintain connections with their respective families. Up and down, back and forth, the room echoed with the rhythm of their anxious footsteps.

"My Queen, General," The Seer greeted as she entered the room, tonic in hand. "It is time for your tonic, my Queen."

Phoebe observed the Seer's lips moving but the words seemed distant, lost in the tumult of her internal struggle. Ignoring the offered tonic, Phoebe locked eyes with the Seer, desperation evident in her gaze. She reached out to the Seer, gesturing for her to stop, "What if Buffy and I promise never to save any innocent ever again? Then can we see our respective families?" Phoebe's plea was filled with an earnest desire for a solution.

"You'll feel better after this," the Seer responded, still holding out the tonic, seemingly unaffected by Phoebe's plea.

Phoebe sighed, her eyes scanning the room, and she caught sight of the withered plant on the windowsill—the same plant she had used to dispose of the tonic earlier that morning. The stark contrast between the dead plant and the Seer's proffered tonic triggered a sudden realization. Her gaze shifted back to the Seer, and Phoebe's eyes widened in understanding.

"Oh my god," Phoebe muttered, her steps purposeful as she circled around the Seer to examine the evidence more closely. The sight before her confirmed her suspicions. "It's poison."

Buffy, sensing the urgency in Phoebe's tone, tore her gaze away from the room's confines and locked eyes with Phoebe. As she did, an unexpected wave of images flooded Buffy's mind. She saw a fifteen-year-old Prudence standing apologetically in front of her and Faith. In the vision, Prudence held a drooping plant, her face a mix of remorse and innocence as she confessed to overwatering it.

Buffy's eyes widened as the premonition unfolded before her, and she instinctively reached out to steady herself against the nearest piece of furniture.

Phoebe, having recognized the telltale signs of a premonition, approached Buffy with concern etched on her face. "Buffy, are you okay?" she asked, her voice gentle yet urgent.

Buffy took a moment to collect herself, the premonition lingering in her mind like a vivid dream. She nodded, offering Phoebe a small, reassuring smile. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"No, it's not poison," the Seer countered, dismissing Phoebe's earlier accusation with a casual defiance.

"You told me it was good for me," Phoebe retorted, her eyes shifting from Buffy to the Seer, a glint of betrayal coloring her gaze.

"It is," the Seer insisted, her tone unwavering.

"YOU'RE LYING!" Phoebe's accusation echoed through the room, reverberating with a potent mix of frustration and disbelief.

The Seer, unfazed by Phoebe's outburst, calmly instructed, "Think about it. Last night, you were strong—angry, perhaps—but now look at you, whining."

Phoebe felt the weight of the situation pressing down on her, the conflicting emotions churning within. She shook her head, attempting to steady her breathing, her mind racing to make sense of the conflicting information.

"It's a weakness unbefitting of a queen," the Seer added with a hint of condescension, her words aiming to exploit Phoebe's vulnerabilities.

Buffy stepped forward, her protective arm tightening around Phoebe as she demanded, "What's in it?"

"The same thing that was in Faith's herbs. Pure evil," the Seer explained, her voice carrying a sinister undertone. "The baby feeds on it. And as he grows stronger..." Her words hung ominously in the air, and Phoebe felt a cold shiver run down her spine.

"I get weaker," Phoebe concluded, the weight of the revelation settling heavily on her shoulders. The implications of the Seer's deceit sent tremors through her entire being, threatening to unravel the strength she had fought so hard to maintain.

"Like with Faith, only the good in you," the Seer placated, her tone falsely soothing, as if attempting to convince them that this malevolent act was for their own good.

"You're trying to destroy Phoebe," Buffy accused, her voice dripping with hatred. "Just as you're destroying Faith."

"I'm trying to help," the Seer insisted, her eyes unyielding. "I gave you two and Faith clarity where now you two have confusion. I gave you all conviction where now you two have pain."

Phoebe shook her head weakly, her senses reeling from the magnitude of the betrayal. "You took away our will," she whispered, the realization cutting deep into her soul. The Seer's manipulative actions had robbed them of their autonomy, leaving behind a haunting sense of vulnerability.

"No. You two made the choice to stand by your respective spouses all on your own," the Seer reminded them smugly. "You, Phoebe; for you, for Cole, and for your baby," she added, her eyes dropping to Phoebe's stomach, emphasizing the vulnerability of the life growing within. She then shifted her gaze to Buffy. "And you, Buffy; for you, for Faith, and for your baby."

Phoebe and Buffy exchanged uneasy glances, a shared acknowledgment of the intricate web of relationships that now bound them. Phoebe's hand instinctively moved to cover her stomach, a protective gesture that mirrored the underlying concern etched on both their faces.

"Don't risk all of your lives by questioning that now," the Seer continued, her tone mocking as she held up the glass containing the deceptive tonic. "Drink the tonic, Phoebe." With a swift motion, she placed the elixir next to Phoebe and vanished, leaving them alone with the weight of her manipulative influence.

Phoebe bit her bottom lip, torn between the ties of her past and the promises of her future. Her hand clutched the glass, fingers trembling with indecision. The internal struggle raged on as she considered the consequences of her actions. The conflicting loyalties to her family of origin and the family she had chosen threatened to tear her apart.

Buffy, too, faced the same internal turmoil. The premonitions of Prudence's future haunted her thoughts, each vision a testament to the fragile balance they sought to maintain. The stakes were higher now, and the decisions they made would echo through the lives of those they loved.

"Buffy, what was your premonition?" Phoebe asked, seeking a shared understanding of the challenges that lay ahead.

"Of Prudence," Buffy answered with a heavy sigh. "I've been seeing visions of her future, that made the fourth one in the last day."

The Heavens

Leo orbed into the heavens, transcending the earthly realm and entering the sacred space where Elders held sway. As he materialized in the ethereal expanse, Leo found himself in the presence of the Elders, their collective wisdom radiating like a celestial aura. Among them stood Jonas, an Elder known for his keen insights into the threads of destiny.

"Leo," Jonas acknowledged with a nod, his eyes reflecting both ancient knowledge and a compassionate understanding.

Leo bowed his head respectfully. "I seek your guidance, Jonas. Buffy and Phoebe came to the Manor, the reason isn't really important right now. But Paige witnessed Buffy having a premonition while there. We're wondering if maybe the good in her is giving her these premonitions. To try and sway her back to good."

Jonas listened intently, his gaze piercing through the veil of the unknown. "The interplay between good and evil can shape destinies in unpredictable ways. It is not uncommon for the latent good within a soul to seek expression, especially in moments of profound consequence."

"Could Faith's unborn child somehow be giving Buffy's these visions?" Leo wondered. "It wouldn't be the first time it's happened. After all a few months ago Buffy and Faith shared a vision of Prudence about twenty years in the future."

"The connection between souls transcends the boundaries of time and space," Jonas intoned, his voice resonating with the resonance of cosmic truths. "It's conceivable that the unborn child, a beacon of innocence and potential, could forge a connection between Buffy and the visions that swirl within the fabric of destiny."

Underworld

Cole and Faith burst into the chamber, a dark and ominous space echoing with the muted whispers of its underworld inhabitants. The air crackled with tension as the duo surveyed the gathering of demons assembled for the unexpected meeting.

As Cole's piercing gaze canvassed the room, his eyes locked onto Dane's, a flicker of annoyance shadowing his face. With determined strides, he advanced, Faith silently trailing behind like a formidable shadow. "What gives you the authority to call a meeting and summon me and Faith?" Cole demanded, his tone laced with a potent blend of frustration and authority.

"I summoned you, my liege, Heir," Dane acknowledged with a deferential nod. "But I did not call this meeting. We all did."

Faith's eyes scanned the room, her impatience palpable as mumbled agreements rippled through the gathering. "Hmm. Then someone had better speak," she commanded, her authoritative tone cutting through the uneasy quiet. Her gaze swept the room once more, a challenge in her eyes that demanded answers.

Dane, sensing the rising tension, attempted to explain, "The concern—"

"Someone else," Cole interjected sharply, his gaze moving from one demon to the next, a silent dare for someone to step forward and clarify the purpose of this unexpected gathering.

Stefan, with urgency etched across his face, maneuvered through the dense crowd, determination propelling him forward. "Malek is missing," he declared with unwavering certainty. "And the Charmed Ones are guarding his mark. Word on the street is that the queen and the general worked with the remaining Charmed Ones to interfere with the kill."

Faith pivoted sharply, fixing her accusatory gaze on Dane, the one they believed to be trustworthy. "I wonder how that news spread."

Dane, visibly caught off guard, approached Cole and Faith cautiously. "Forgive our confusion, but... we were under the impression that the Power of Three no longer existed, and that with the Heir's conversion to evil, the Slayer line was no longer a threat."

Cole, seizing the opportunity to dispel any doubts, surveyed the room before making a resounding announcement, "The queen is pregnant." His voice carried across the chamber, ensuring that even those unfamiliar with him were now aware. "She's prone to hormonal fits. But I can assure you all that the Power of Three is indeed extinct."

Faith, standing firmly at Cole's side, reinforced his statement. "And as far as my wife is concerned," she added, her tone unyielding, "she was simply following her Queen's orders. The general was simply there as protection for the Queen."

The chamber fell into a tense silence as demons processed the revelation. Cole and Faith exchanged a single, assertive nod, signaling their case had been made. Without uttering another word, they turned and walked away.

"Then who killed Malek?" Dane's voice cut through the air, a challenge that halted Cole and Faith in their tracks.

Faith pivoted on her heel, meeting Dane's inquisitive gaze head-on. "I did," she stated bluntly, her admission hanging in the tense silence. "I was convinced he was about to betray me and Uncle Cole."

Dane's disappointment was palpable, his expression tightening at Faith's candid revelation. "Nevertheless, his mark still lives," he pointed out with a note of frustration.

"Then assign someone to finish the task, Dane," Cole ordered impatiently, a trace of boredom creeping into his voice. The whole revolt seemed like a tiresome distraction.

"I believe you already tried that," Dane retorted swiftly, his response carrying an undercurrent of defiance. "My liege," he added deliberately, acknowledging Cole's authority but also subtly questioning the decisions that had led them to this point.

Faith's eyes narrowed, and her voice hardened as she faced Cole. "Are you questioning me, Uncle Cole?" Her daring gaze held his, a challenge issued not just to Dane but to anyone who dared to doubt her actions.

Dane's words lingered in the charged air as he stood in front of Cole and Faith, his deliberate approach underscoring the gravity of his suggestion. The silence stretched, hanging like a heavy fog between them. "The innocent… is still in the hands of the witches," Dane remarked slowly, carefully choosing his words. "Until we've seen evidence that the queen's… hormones are indeed under control, and the general's allegiance is with the Underworld, it might be best if you two took out the mark personally. For morale."

The weight of Dane's proposition settled on Cole and Faith, their jaws tightening in unison. They understood the implication—Dane was testing them, pushing them to prove to the entire underworld where their ultimate loyalties lay: with their wives or with the realm of demons.

A charged silence enveloped the chamber, broken only by the subtle hum of tension in the air. Cole and Faith exchanged a knowing glance, the unspoken communication between them conveying the gravity of the situation. The faces of the demons surrounding them mirrored the collective anticipation; every gaze fixated on the couple, awaiting a response that would define their allegiance.

In that charged moment, Cole and Faith turned as one, their decision clear. They flamed out, leaving the chamber behind.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Cole and Faith materialized in a dimly lit corner of the Underworld; the air thick with the essence of malevolence. Cole, wearing a determined expression, took the lead in the conversation. "Faith, I'll handle the innocent. You deal with Buffy. Find out what's going through her head."

Faith met his gaze, a silent agreement with the assigned tasks. "I already know," she revealed, her eyes locking onto Cole's with a hint of understanding. Cole raised an eyebrow, prompting her to continue. "I believe Prudence is trying to sway Buffy somehow. Buffy has been receiving premonitions of Prudence's future—a future where our child is good."

"Keep a close eye on Buffy, Faith," Cole instructed, his tone a blend of caution and determination. "If Prudence is playing a game, we need to understand the rules. Meanwhile, I'll handle the innocent." With a shared nod, the duo went their separate ways.

Halliwell Manor

"How many hangover cures do you have?" Piper's muffled voice echoed from her place at the kitchen table, her head resting on one arm as she valiantly fought to keep the world from spinning.

"A lot," Paige responded, her hands deftly placing the lid on the blender. The kitchen bore the traces of a night that had stretched well beyond the usual boundaries of sobriety. "There was a time in my life when I needed these often."

"Really, Aunt Paige?" Willow's voice held a mix of surprise and amusement as she entered the kitchen, surveying the aftermath of the revelry.

"Where'd you go?" Piper questioned, lifting her head only to wince as the harsh light seared her retinas. She quickly dropped her head back onto her arm, seeking refuge from the pounding in her head.

Willow's expression turned into a concerned frown as she observed her mother. "I tried calling for Buffy. You know, she was supposed to be my Whitelighter, remember? I wanted to get the truth about the premonition Aunt Paige said she witnessed. But she didn't answer my call."

Paige, undeterred by the chaos around her, slammed the button on the blender, and the machine whirred to life. The abrupt noise cut through the groggy haze, causing Piper to jerk upright, a cry escaping her lips as the sound hammered into her head. Desperate to shield herself, she attempted to cover her ears with her arms, a futile attempt to escape the auditory assault.

As soon as the noise from the blender ceased, Piper dropped her head into her hands, a gesture of weariness and remorse. She then pushed her fingers through her disheveled hair, letting out a sigh laden with both frustration and regret. "I'm sorry, guys. I don't know what got into me," she apologized, propping her head on one hand. Her gaze lingered on the table, a tableau of hangover remedies and the aftermath of a night fraught with unexpected revelations. "I mean, it's one thing when your sister has a husband that you can't stand. It's another when he is the Source of All Evil! And it doesn't help that Faith is the Heir of All Evil. Or that Buffy is their general."

"Drink up," Paige instructed, walking over to the table and placing hangover cure number four in front of her sister. "We've got work to do."

Piper shook her head, her thoughts drifting into the abyss of worry. "I can't lose them. I can't lose another sister. I can't lose the niece of the sister I already lost either. I don't think I'll survive it."

Paige sank into the chair on Piper's right, contemplating the weight of the situation. "I've been thinking about it. Not only were both Buffy and Phoebe different today, but why would Buffy have a premonition just out of the blue?"

"Yeah," Piper scoffed, wiping at her tired eyes. "They were both nuts."

"I'm not sure that's true, Mom," Willow chimed in, her expression thoughtful. "From what Aunt Paige told me, first, they cared about you, about Greg. Then there is Buffy's premonition. I don't think that's a coincidence," she stated, her words hinting at a deeper understanding. "Something has changed, and I think now is our chance to get them and Faith back."

Piper frowned in confusion. "How?"

"Well, I think we storm the penthouse, bring the crystals," Paige began, ticking off points on her fingers with a determined air. "We still know the spell. We vanquish the Source the same way we did last time."

"Yeah, but now, this time the Source is Cole," Piper countered, shaking her head in skepticism. "Do you really think she's going to say a little spell with us to vanquish him?"

Paige shrugged, her expression a mix of practicality and resolve. "If she doesn't… we die."

"Whoa, Aunt Paige!" Willow exclaimed, pushing up out of her seat. "You're talking about my family here," she reminded Paige, her jaw locked, and her eyes reflecting a steely determination.

Paige nodded; her gaze unwavering. "Phoebe, Buffy, and Faith's too," she stated simply. "The good in Phoebe and Buffy is fighting to the surface, we saw that today," she explained to her niece. "I don't think Phoebe's just gonna stand by and watch Cole kill us. And if the good in Buffy is fighting to the surface, that means the Slayer line will revert, and so will Faith."

"Are you willing to bet your life on that?" Piper asked, her gaze piercing through the lingering uncertainty in the room. Her gaze met first Paige's then Willow's

Paige met Piper's own eyes. She then turned her gaze to Willow. "Aren't you?" she fired at them both, a challenge hanging in the air.

"You know, you are pretty amazing, Paige," Piper complimented, pushing herself to her feet with the support of Willow. "I mean, a year ago you were an only child—"

"And I don't want to be again," Paige cut her off, her eyes locking onto Piper's with a fierce intensity. Piper smiled gratefully, acknowledging the unspoken bond that had formed between them. "Let's go."

Piper, still grappling with the remnants of her hangover, grabbed her hangover cure, grimacing at the prospect of the vile concoction. "Gross."

"I'll get the crystals," Willow chuckled, offering a lighthearted moment amidst the tension that enveloped them. As they left the kitchen, a sense of purpose filled the air, propelling them forward into the unknown.

The Towers

The heavy door creaked open as Faith entered the dimly lit bedroom. The air was thick with tension, an unspoken acknowledgment of the weight of the conversation that was about to unfold. The soft glow from a solitary bedside lamp illuminated the room, casting shadows that danced across the walls.

Buffy, sitting on the edge of the bed, looked up as Faith entered. Their eyes locked in a charged silence, a myriad of emotions lingering in the air—anger, confusion, and a trace of vulnerability.

Faith crossed her arms, her expression a mix of determination and concern. "We need to talk, B," she stated, her voice carrying a gravity that echoed through the room.

Buffy met Faith's gaze; her eyes guarded but betraying a hint of curiosity. "About what?" she replied, her tone carefully neutral.

Faith took a deliberate step forward, closing the distance between them. "About what's been happening, about the visions, about Prudence," she said, her words hanging in the air, waiting for acknowledgment.

Buffy's jaw tightened slightly, a flicker of defensiveness crossing her features. "I don't know what you're talking about," she countered, her gaze shifting away for a moment.

Faith shook her head, refusing to let the evasion stand. "Cut the crap, B. I saw you today. I saw the doubt in your eyes, the hesitation. Something's going on, and I need to know what it is."

The room seemed to tighten with the unspoken tension between them. Faith's eyes bore into Buffy's, searching for the truth beneath the surface. The silence stretched, thickening with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings. Faith remained steadfast, determined to unravel the mystery that had cast a shadow over their once-unbreakable bond.

Buffy's gaze wavered for a moment before she sighed, her shoulders slumping in reluctant admission. "Faith, it's complicated," she began, her voice carrying the weight of the internal struggle she was facing.

Faith remained silent, her intense gaze urging Buffy to continue, to lay bare the complexities that had woven a web of uncertainty around them.

"As I told you before I've been having visions about Prudence," Buffy confessed, her eyes flickering with a mix of frustration and vulnerability. "I've seen four now, where she is good, Faith. And it's messing with my head, Faith. I know basically we're evil, Faith. That was the Seer's plan after all. The herbs Cole gave you were laced with pure evil. You ate them and turned us both. So, I know we're evil. But these premonitions keep showing me a future where you and I are good, where Prudence is good."

Faith's eyes held a mixture of surprise and skepticism as she absorbed Buffy's revelation. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily in the air, and Faith felt the precarious balance between their past actions and the future glimpses Buffy described.

"I get it, B, visions can mess with your head," Faith said, her voice low and contemplative. "But we can't ignore the fact that we're knee-deep in the dark side, and visions or not, we've got to deal with it."

Buffy nodded, acknowledging the undeniable truth in Faith's words. "I know, Faith. I'm not saying I believe in some fairy-tale ending. But these visions, they feel different, like there's a chance for something more."

Faith uncrossed her arms, her expression softening as she took a step closer to Buffy. "You know we can't just trust in visions, B. We've got to face the reality of what we've become and what's at stake."

Buffy looked up, her eyes locking with Faith's. "That's what's so messed up, Faith. The visions, they're not just about Prudence being good. They're about us breaking free from the darkness, too. I've seen us fighting on the side of good, pushing back against the evil that turned us."

Faith's brow furrowed, processing the implications of Buffy's words. The room seemed to tighten with the weight of their shared history and the uncertain path that lay ahead.

"Faith, I need your help to figure this out," Buffy admitted, vulnerability in her voice. "We can't let the visions control us, but we can't ignore them either. I'm scared, Faith, for Prudence, for us."

Halliwell Manor

Willow, Piper, and Paige exited the kitchen, their conversation tapering off as they made their way towards the stairs, just as Phoebe entered the house. The atmosphere was charged with a mix of urgency and tension, evident in the expressions etched on each sister's face.

Piper handed Willow her glass, a silent acknowledgment of the unfolding gravity of the situation, while simultaneously pulling on her coat. Willow, in turn, absentmindedly sat the glass on the foyer table, considering it officially forgotten amidst the weight of the impending decision.

"Cole is gonna kill Greg Conroy," Phoebe announced to the small group as she met their eyes, her tone grave and eyes reflecting the urgency of her revelation. "And I can't let that happen."

The news hung in the air, casting a shadow over the familial gathering. Piper, the pragmatist among them, spoke up carefully, her voice a measured attempt to navigate the delicate situation. "So, what do you want to do?"

Phoebe licked her lips nervously, her gaze flickering from sister to sister to niece before she answered slowly, choosing her words with caution. "I think that we… have to vanquish Cole."

"I knew it." Paige's smile was a mix of satisfaction and anticipation. "I knew she was ready."

Piper, however, was not fully convinced. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on her, and she couldn't shake the apprehension that clung to the proposed plan.

"We have to use Greg as bait," Phoebe told them calmly, her expression resolute as she presented her strategy.

Willow looked at her middle aunt with a confused frown. "Bait?" she echoed uncertainly. "He's an innocent."

"I know, but Cole's looking for him," Phoebe explained, her gaze steady. "He'll find him wherever he is, so he's safest here."

Piper considered the logic, her mind working through the intricacies of the plan. "So, we have Leo bring Greg here, but then when Cole arrives, uh… Leo's got to orb Greg out of here."

Phoebe nodded in agreement with her sister's plan, a determined glint in her eyes. "And then… we vanquish Cole."

Paige, sensing the urgency of the moment, nodded decisively. "I'll go get the crystals." With that, she turned on her heel and headed up the stairs, her footsteps echoing the collective determination that fueled their resolve.

"Phoebe… I know how much you love Cole," Piper said slowly, her voice laced with empathy. Phoebe, in response, looked to the floor, emotions playing across her face like shadows.

"And I'm really—" Piper attempted to continue, but Phoebe interrupted, her tone firm and resolute. "I can't get emotional about this now, Piper. If I do, I won't be able to go through with it."

Piper frowned, her heart aching for the internal struggle her sister was enduring. She felt overwhelmed with the urge to comfort Phoebe, to reassure her that everything would be okay, but she understood the necessity of maintaining composure for the task at hand. With a silent nod, Piper respected Phoebe's request for space, allowing her sister the mental fortitude needed to face the challenging decisions ahead.

Paige arrived with the crystals, their presence a stark reminder of the impending confrontation. "Ready," Paige declared, her expression reflecting the gravity of the situation.

"Leo—" Piper began, looking to involve their Whitelighter in the plan.

"No!" Willow cut in sharply, her voice carrying a note of caution that sliced through the air. "Something doesn't feel right."

"Willow," Piper said, her tone infused with a mix of urgency and confusion.

Willow didn't answer immediately, her gaze fixed upon Phoebe with narrowed eyes. "Ostende mihi Aura," she chanted, the Latin words resonating in the air. The room crackled with a subtle energy as Willow's hands moved gracefully through the incantation. "You're not Aunt Phoebe," she accused, her aunts frowning in collective concern.

"Willow, what are you talking about?" Paige questioned, her eyes darting between Willow and the person who looked like Phoebe.

"Tara has been teaching me a spell that mirrors what her powers do. To see auras," Willow explained, her voice steady despite the revelation unfolding. "I just cast it. This person's aura is as black as they come. You're not Aunt Phoebe… are you Uncle Cole?" Willow's gaze shifted from the imposter to the space beside her as Leo and Greg materialized.

Phoebe smirked, a malicious satisfaction playing across her features as she crossed her arms over her chest. In a slow, deliberate motion, she began to morph, her form shifting seamlessly. The transformation revealed the true identity beneath the illusion—Cole.

"Clever," he taunted, his voice a low, mocking murmur as he turned to face Greg. Without hesitation, he unleashed a fireball, hitting Greg with a malevolent force before flaming out in a triumphant escape.

The Towers

Buffy and Faith sat cross-legged in their dimly lit bedroom, surrounded by a circle of flickering candles that cast a warm, golden glow. The dancing flames created an intimate atmosphere, as the sisters held hands with a shared purpose. The air hummed with a quiet energy, a palpable connection between the two Slayers.

The room seemed to fade away as they focused on the task at hand. The energy of the candles melded with the quiet determination in their expressions. Each flame whispered promises of strength and unity, weaving an invisible thread that connected Buffy and Faith in a shared purpose.

As they closed their eyes, a moment of silence enveloped them, and the only sound that remained was the soft crackling of the candles. Their hands tightened in unison, a physical manifestation of the trust and camaraderie that had grown between them over time.

In the midst of their shared meditation, a vivid vision unfolded before them. The room transformed, and they found themselves standing in an ethereal realm that echoed with echoes of the past. The surroundings shifted, revealing a scene from years ago.

There, bathed in a soft, timeless light, stood Faith's mother, Prue, an embodiment of strength and wisdom. Her presence radiated a sense of authority, and her gaze bore the weight of foresight. Buffy and Faith observed, captivated, as the vision unfolded like a living tapestry.

Prue addressed them with a solemn urgency that transcended time, "Buffy, Faith, listen closely. There may come a time when the balance of fate teeters, and you'll find yourselves standing against a force you once trusted."

The air seemed to still as Prue continued, her words carrying a weight of responsibility, "In those moments, you must protect Phoebe. She is the linchpin, the key to a future where darkness does not prevail. If Cole's intentions become a threat, you must shield Phoebe at all costs."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Phoebe was seated at the desk in the living room, a half-filled tonic standing next to her, as she scribbled furiously on a piece of paper. Her expression remained unreadable, a storm brewing beneath the surface, when Cole materialized into the room. He had entered with a sense of urgency, but the sight of Phoebe stopped him dead in his tracks.

"Phoebe, we have too—" Cole trailed off as he laid eyes on her, instantly sensing the palpable tension radiating off of his wife.

Phoebe turned to him slowly, her eyes dark and filled with an intensity that made Cole swallow hard. The air in the room shifted as the unspoken turmoil hung between them.

Cole frowned, concern etching his features. "What's the matter?" he inquired, trying to decipher the storm brewing within Phoebe's gaze.

Phoebe had turned to face him, but she refused to meet his eyes directly. Her voice, when she finally spoke, held an edge of accusation. "Did you know about the Seer's tonic? What it really does? What about the herbs that you gave Faith for her nausea?"

Cole's eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by the sudden barrage of questions. He redirected his gaze towards the desk, cleverly avoiding Phoebe's piercing stare. "What's this?" he asked, nodding towards the paper, his eyes narrowing at the mention of his name at the top of the page. "You're planning to leave me?" he questioned, a note of vulnerability creeping into his voice.

"I wrote two letters," Phoebe informed him, her gaze shifting nervously between the paper on the desk and Cole. She twiddled the pen between her fingers, a telltale sign of her internal struggle. "One saying goodbye to you, and one saying goodbye to my sisters." She raised her eyes to meet his slowly, a mixture of uncertainty and determination playing across her features. "I haven't decided which one I'm gonna send."

Cole's expression tightened at the weight of her words, his impatience manifesting in a harsh retort. "Well, you better decide. Right now."

Phoebe's eyes narrowed with determination, refusing to let the urgency derail the questions that burned within her. "Did you know about the tonic? About Faith's herbs?" she asked again, her voice strong and demanding.

Cole met her gaze head-on, his acknowledgment resolute. "Yes."

Phoebe scoffed, her disappointment and anger surfacing. "So you knew she was poisoning both me and Faith with evil," she sought to confirm, her voice cutting through the charged atmosphere.

Cole sucked in a deep breath, the gravity of the revelation settling on him. He turned away, his eyes avoiding Phoebe's accusing gaze as he smoothed out his coat. "You took my hand and walked me through that coronation long before anybody gave you anything to drink," he admitted, a haunting acknowledgment of the shared culpability in the dark path they had walked together.

Phoebe dropped her head into her hand, massaging her temples in an attempt to ward off the headache forming at the center of the storm brewing between her and Cole. "But not Faith, Faith started taking the herbs long before then."

Cole, with a practiced air of innocence, countered with a lie, "I did not know what was in the herbs till after her and Buffy's conversion." He met her gaze with a carefully crafted expression of sincerity. "But if you want to pretend you and Faith are being poisoned."

Phoebe's skepticism cut through his words. "So why even bother with the tonic or the herbs?" she demanded, cutting him off before he could continue weaving his deceit. She didn't buy for a second that Cole hadn't known before Faith and Buffy's conversion to evil. "Why not just let us think for ourselves?"

"Because I know what it feels like to have good and evil fighting inside of you, ripping your insides out," Cole replied heatedly, his voice laced with a bitter intensity. "I wanted to save you and Faith both that pain."

Phoebe shook her head, frustration and disappointment etched across her features. "You should have trusted us… to stand by you all on our own, especially me," she retorted, raising fiery eyes to meet his dark ones.

Cole, sensing the unraveling of trust, outstretched his arms in a gesture of surrender. "So…" he walked towards her purposefully, closing the distance between them, "…show me I can. You know what's in the tonic now. You know how it works." He lifted the dainty glass from its place on the desk and placed it down in front of her, his challenge hanging in the air. "Drink it… all on your own." The unspoken plea in his eyes betrayed the depth of his desperation for Phoebe's acceptance and understanding.

Phoebe stared at the drink with hard, conflicted eyes, the weight of the situation pressing upon her. She shook her head, her voice firm as she chastised, "Cole." Pushing to her feet, she distanced herself from the glass and the tension it represented.

"I don't have time for games, Phoebe," Cole called after her, his patience wearing thin. He held his ground as she turned back to face him. "Just drink the tonic or leave… now."

The urgency in Cole's voice unsettled Phoebe, and her concern deepened. "What is going on with you?" she demanded breathlessly, her frustration and confusion evident. "What happened?"

"What happened is you and Buffy had to go and play demon catcher with your sisters," Cole replied tersely, his tone tinged with the strain of recent events.

"COLE, IT'S WHO BUFFY AND I ARE!" Phoebe hollered in frustration, her emotions bubbling to the surface.

"And now we're in danger," Cole announced to her calmly, his words hanging heavy in the air. Phoebe covered her face with her hands, absorbing the weight of the revelation. "Serious danger." He approached her slowly, each step deliberate. "If you don't care about your life or mine or our baby's..." he paused, stopping directly in front of her, his gaze penetrating hers, "What about Faith's, Buffy's, or their baby?"

Phoebe cut her eyes to his sharply, her fury evident in the intensity of her gaze. "Don't you threaten them," she growled, her protective instincts flaring with ferocity.

"I'm not," Cole shook his head, attempting to convey the urgency without resorting to threats. "But if there's a coup, do you think whoever takes over for me will let Faith, Buffy, and Prudence live?" he asked her pointedly. "They will be targeted just as you and I are. Simply because Faith is my heir."

Phoebe shook her head minutely, her thoughts a turbulent whirlwind as she stared at the ceiling, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. "I don't know what to do," she whispered, the weight of the dilemma leaving her utterly lost.

"You can't go back," Cole told her certainly, his voice tinged with a mixture of empathy and determination. Turning back to the desk, he lifted the tonic, holding it out to her expectantly. "There is only one choice. Drink the tonic." He extended it toward her, his eyes pleading for her understanding, for their survival. Phoebe, however, continued to stare at the floor, wrestling with the gravity of the decision before her.

Cole took a breath and walked closer, the distance between them closing. "You have to know… that I would never do anything to hurt you. Please? For us? For our son?" His words hung in the air, a plea laced with sincerity.

Phoebe inhaled deeply, the scent of him overwhelming her senses. Slowly, she opened her eyes, her gaze shifting from the tonic to meet his. The unspoken connection between them lingered, a silent understanding of the sacrifice they faced. With a determined resolve, she snatched the tonic from his hands and downed it, slamming the empty glass back into his palm.

Cole swallowed his smirk, sensing the triumph of a shared decision. He took his wife into his arms, holding her close. "I love you, Phoebe," he told her sincerely. "Just remember, whatever happens next, we can handle it as long as we stay together."

Phoebe's body tensed in his arms at his words, the air growing heavy with an unspoken dread. "What do you mean...?" she questioned fearfully. "Whatever happens next?"

"The Conroy thing got serious," Cole revealed, his tone measured but filled with an underlying weight. "I had to take care of it."

Phoebe's eyes widened, and she instinctively pushed out of his arms, creating a small but significant distance between them. "You…" Her raspy voice cracked with disbelief and fear as she shook her head, staring at him with a mix of anger and desperation. "You killed him?"

"It was your and Buffy's mess," Cole fired back, a defensive edge to his voice. "I was just cleaning it up."

"Cole!" Phoebe sighed, the weight of the situation settling heavily on her shoulders. "They're gonna come after you. They're gonna come here!" she exclaimed, her desperation growing more palpable.

"Well, if they do—" Cole began, his expression a mix of defiance and readiness for whatever consequences awaited him.

"No," Phoebe interrupted, her head shaking vehemently as she turned away, her steps quickening with a sense of urgency.

"Phoebe, if it comes down to them or us..." Cole insinuated, his words hanging in the air, laden with the weight of an unspoken truth.

"Oh, god!" Phoebe gasped, her hand instinctively moving to cradle her stomach as she raced towards the bathroom, panic etched across her face.

"Phoebe, wait," Cole called after her, his concern evident in the urgency of his tone. He followed her to the bathroom, but she slammed the door shut, shutting him out from the turmoil within.

"Phoebe?" he called, knocking gently on the door, but his wife remained silent. The sound of retching from behind the closed door echoed through the quiet room, a painful reminder of the turmoil that gripped Phoebe's mind and body.

Phoebe moved away from the toilet on shaking legs, the reverberations of her intense confrontation with Cole still echoing through her. She staggered towards the sink and turned on the faucet, the cold water offering a stark contrast to the turmoil within her. As she splashed her face, each drop seemed to wash away not only the remnants of the tonic but also the lingering shock and disbelief at the revelations she had just uncovered.

"Phoebe?" Cole's concerned voice called out once again, but she remained silent, staring at her reflection in the mirror. The weight of the truth she had unearthed settled heavily in her stomach, a bitter mix of betrayal and disbelief.

Cole, sensing the gravity of the moment, closed his eyes and shook his head in self-reflection. He understood the magnitude of the choices he had made and the rift it had caused in his relationship with Phoebe. With a heavy sigh, he walked away from the bathroom, the reality of his actions lingering like a shadow over his conscience.

Meanwhile, in the living room, the atmosphere crackled with tension as bright white lights filled the air. Leo and Piper materialized in front of the fireplace, their expressions a mix of urgency and concern. The room became a stage for the convergence of magical energies as Paige and Willow orbed in to their right seconds later, completing the assembly of the family.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Buffy and Faith remained enveloped in the ethereal energy of their trance when another vivid premonition surged into their shared awareness. In the vision, the setting had shifted, and they found themselves in Golden Gate Park, seated on a comfortable picnic blanket.

As the scene unfolded, a figure emerged on the horizon. A thirty-year-old woman approached them with a warm smile, her eyes radiating a familiar mix of confidence and kindness. The women shared an uncanny resemblance to Buffy and Faith, a reflection of their future selves.

"Hello, Mama Buffy, Mama Faith," the woman greeted them with a heartfelt tone, her words resonating with a sense of love and connection that transcended the boundaries of time.

"Prudence?" Buffy asked, her voice carrying a mix of surprise and recognition.

"Yes, Mama Buffy," Prudence replied with a serene smile. "You two are in a shared vision of the future again. You're at a crossroads. Down one path leads evil, the other leads good. You've already glimpsed one vision, a reminder of what Grandma Prue told you two to do. Something that Cole tried to erase from your minds."

The atmosphere in the shared vision crackled with a blend of tension and revelation. Prudence stood before them, a conduit between the past and the potential futures awaiting the mothers. The air shimmered with the weight of the decision hanging in the balance.

Buffy and Faith exchanged a knowing look, their eyes reflecting the complexity of emotions stirred by Prudence's words. The echoes of their shared history and the interference that had clouded their memories added layers to the significance of the moment.

"Mom told us?" Faith questioned, her brow furrowed with a mix of confusion and determination.

Prudence nodded. "Yes, she did. She warned you both to protect Aunt Phoebe from Cole if the situation ever arose that you needed to do so. A warning that transcends time and echoes through the fabric of your destiny."

Prudence continued, her gaze steady and filled with a wisdom that belied her youthful appearance. "Grandma Prue's words were meant to guide you, to ensure the protection of Aunt Phoebe, even when the threads of destiny are entangled in darkness. Cole's attempts to erase those memories were futile, for the guidance of family transcends the manipulation of time."

Buffy and Faith absorbed Prudence's words, a silent understanding passing between them. The gravity of the decision they faced hung in the air, each path illuminated by the consequences it bore. The crossroads extended beyond their own destinies, intertwining with the lives of those they loved.

"The vision you saw earlier was a reminder of your shared purpose," Prudence continued. "A call to stand against the darkness, to protect the ones you hold dear. The path towards evil is tempting, but it is a mirage, a distortion woven by the forces that seek to pull you away from your true purpose."

As Prudence spoke, the surroundings of Golden Gate Park morphed, mirroring the dual nature of the choices laid out before them. The vision projected a dichotomy of paths, one veiled in shadows, the other bathed in a gentle, golden light.

"You have the strength to resist the lure of darkness," Prudence assured them. "Your bond, rooted in love and shared experiences, is a beacon that can guide you through the tumultuous currents of destiny. Aunt Phoebe needs you now more than ever, and the choices you make in this moment will ripple through the tapestry of time."

"I choose good," Buffy declared, her voice resolute and echoing with a sense of unwavering determination.

Faith nodded in agreement; her gaze locked with Buffy's. "So do I," she affirmed, the strength of their shared commitment resonating in her words.

As their choices echoed through the ethereal landscape of the shared vision, the surroundings shifted, responding to the energy of their decision. The shadows that veiled the path toward evil recoiled, dissipating like mist in the morning sun, revealing a clearer, brighter path bathed in a golden light.

Prudence's serene smile widened, a reflection of pride in the faces of the mothers who stood before her. The energy of their decision sparked a cascade of shimmering lights, symbolizing the alignment of their destinies with the forces of good.

"The choices you make in this moment will shape the future," Prudence affirmed, her voice carrying the weight of generations. "Your commitment to the path of good is a beacon that will guide you through the challenges that lie ahead. That in turn eventually will lead to me. For I am the heir—not the Source's heir. But the heir of the Halliwell and Spellman lines. For I am the Charmed Slayer."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Cole whirled around, anger burning in his eyes as he walked with measured steps to the center of the room. The air crackled with tension, and he scrutinized the hands of Paige and Piper, wary of any sudden movements.

"You evil son of a bitch," Paige spat venomously, her disdain evident in her voice. Cole's gaze locked onto hers just as Piper, swift and determined, brought up her hands and flicked her wrists. In an explosive burst of energy, Cole disintegrated, transforming into millions of buzzing black dots that scattered across the room.

"PHOEBE? BUFFY? FAITH?" Piper's urgent call echoed through the chaos. "GET OUT HERE AND HELP US DAMN IT!" Her authoritative command reverberated through the room as Paige and Willow swiftly surrounded the disassembled Cole with the enchanted crystals.

Phoebe pressed herself against the door, her heart pounding as she listened to the tumult just beyond it. She shook her head in disbelief, grappling with the overwhelming gravity of her current situation. A sob escaped her lips, and the realization hit her like a ton of bricks, the emotional turmoil battling fiercely within her.

As the chaos unfolded, Willow placed the last of her three crystals strategically around the dispersed dots that once formed Cole. The room hummed with an eerie energy, a tense pause before the impending resolution.

"Paige," Piper warned, her eyes narrowing in vigilance. Willow turned back sharply, her focus shifting between the crystals and the gradually reforming figure of Cole.

Paige raised her head, her eyes widening in shock as they locked onto Cole's intense, black gaze. In a swift motion, he threw out his arm, sending her soaring backward into the wall above the fireplace, just above where Piper and Leo stood. The impact was brutal, the force splitting her head against the wall before she crashed to the ground, the crystal she held flying out of her hand.

The room fell into a tense silence as Paige lay motionless on the ground, the severity of her injuries apparent. Cole's eyes, cold and unforgiving, lingered on the fallen sister, and he pleaded, his voice carrying a warning that echoed through the room, "Don't make me kill you."

"PHOEBE, FAITH, BUFFY, YOU HEARD WHAT HE SAID!" Piper's desperate bellow pierced the silence, the urgency in her voice cutting through the air. "HE'S GONNA KILL US ALL! GET OUT HERE AND HELP US!"

The weight of Piper's words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the imminent danger that loomed over them. Willow tore her eyes away from Paige as Leo's healing powers began to work, his energy focusing on the injured sister. Piper, at Paige's side, turned slowly to face her daughter, her eyes reflecting a mix of concern and determination.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Buffy and Faith emerged from their trance, the echoes of the shared vision fading away. As the room came back into focus, Piper's urgent call shattered the lingering silence.

"PHOEBE, FAITH, BUFFY, YOU HEARD WHAT HE SAID!" Piper's voice boomed, the desperation in her tone slicing through the air. "HE'S GONNA KILL US ALL! GET OUT HERE AND HELP US!"

The weight of Piper's plea hit Buffy and Faith like a physical force, snapping them into immediate action. The intensity in the room surged, and they exchanged a quick, determined glance.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Phoebe closed her eyes, her chest heaving with sharp, gasping sobs that echoed through the bathroom. Gripping the handle tightly, she fought to regain control, her heartbreak palpable in the quiver of her breath. "Forgive me," she whispered quietly, a desperate plea to an unseen force, before yanking open the bathroom door and rushing out just as Buffy and Faith emerged from their bedroom.

"You bastard," Faith's voice sliced through the tension, her words dripping with anger. "You stripped mine and Buffy's memories of our promise to mom."

Willow hurried to join her mother and aunts, and Piper seized her daughter's hand, holding it in a vice-like grip. The intensity in Willow's eyes mirrored the determination of Buffy and Faith as they positioned themselves in front of her, Piper, and Paige, forming a protective shield against Cole, who once again fused back together.

Piper swallowed hard, her gaze locking onto Leo's, a silent exchange of understanding passing between them. Leo moved to stand behind her, a solid presence of support in the face of impending danger.

Cole formed a large fireball in his hand, unfeeling eyes locking onto Piper, Paige, Willow, Buffy, and Faith. The room crackled with an unspoken challenge as the tension escalated. Paige's eyes widened slightly, and she tightened her grip on Willow's arm, inching closer. Piper narrowed her gaze, squeezing her daughter's hand, a silent affirmation of their collective strength in the face of the looming threat.

Phoebe picked up the forgotten crystal, its weight in her hands a tangible reminder of the choices that lay ahead. Cole sensed her presence and turned to face her, his expression a mix of resignation and determination. "I'm sorry," he apologized, his gaze flickering briefly towards Phoebe before redirecting his attention to the rest of the Halliwell family. "It's… it's for the best."

Faith's jaw tightened at his words, her grip on her wife unwavering as she kept a vigilant eye on Cole. Piper shot a desperate look to Phoebe, silently pleading for her to intervene, yet harboring a deep-seated fear of what that intervention might entail.

Phoebe stared into space, her mind grappling with conflicting emotions, the crystal in her hands a conduit for the weight of the decision she was about to make. "I know it is," she agreed quietly, her voice carrying a heavy undertone. Walking towards her husband, she held the crystal tightly.

Cole extinguished the fireball, and Phoebe, with a resolute demeanor, pulled him down into a kiss. Piper's brow creased deeply, her heart unable to comprehend the betrayal unfolding before her. "Phoebe?" she called out, her voice laced with confusion and hurt.

"Wait, Piper," Buffy's firm voice cut through the turmoil. "She's not choosing him."

Phoebe kissed her husband with a fervor that spoke of finality, pouring all the love, devotion, and happiness she had ever felt for him into that single, lingering moment. As their lips parted, she reluctantly withdrew, leaving a charged atmosphere lingering in the air.

Cole stared down at her, his heart pounding in his chest. The intensity of the kiss, the look in her eyes, and the weight of the moment turned his blood to ice— he knew. It was too late. The Source had won. This was the end.

Phoebe licked her lips, a mix of determination and sorrow etched on her face. Bringing her hands to her chest, she locked eyes with the man who had once been her husband. "I'm sorry too," she whispered, a tear sliding down her cheek. With purposeful resolve, she placed the last crystal in its rightful place, completing the formation of the crystal cage that trapped her husband inside.

Backing into her nieces, Buffy and Faith enveloped Phoebe between them, a united front against the impending storm. Cole's whispered plea echoed in the magical prison that now surrounded him, the desperation palpable in his voice. "NO!" he cried out, a futile attempt to break free from the inevitable. If nothing else, a desperate cry to let their son know he had fought.

"I'm sorry, baby," Phoebe whispered, shaking her head in silent regret. She raised her eyes to meet her husband's pain-riddled orbs, conveying a sorrow that transcended the magical barriers between them. "I'm so sorry."

"Penelope, Patricia, Prudence, Melinda." The sisters chanted the names with a sacred resonance, the words carrying the weight of centuries of magic and sisterhood. As their voices melded together, a surge of power radiated through the room, focusing on Cole. The flames enveloped his legs, a manifestation of the magical incantation.

"Astrid, Helena, Laura, and Grace." Faith, Willow, and Buffy joined the chant, each name uttered with deliberate intent. The air crackled with the combined energies of good and evil colliding, weaving a tapestry of fate.

"I'll always love you," Cole's voice cut through the fiery turmoil, his words a poignant farewell to Phoebe. The fire intensified, a reflection of the finality that had come to pass. Phoebe gasped in pain, her heart torn between love and duty.

The entire Halliwell family stood united, a formidable force against the encroaching darkness. "Halliwell witches stand strong beside us. Vanquish this evil from time and space." Their voices merged into a harmonious chorus, a declaration of their unwavering commitment to the fight against evil. Phoebe turned her head into Faith's shoulder, seeking solace in the embrace of her family.

As the incantation reached its climax, Cole's agonized screams pierced the air. The explosive force of the vanquishing ritual shattered the windows and balcony doors in the penthouse, a visceral testament to the eradication of the darkness that had threatened their existence.

March 27, 2002 – Wednesday

Halliwell Manor

The next day dawned, casting a soft glow over the Halliwell Manor. In their bedroom, the air was heavy with the residue of the previous night's events. Buffy and Faith, still reeling from the emotional turmoil, found themselves drawn together in the quiet sanctuary of their room.

The air was thick with unspoken emotions, a tangible connection that had weathered the storm of uncertainty.

Buffy, her gaze fixed on the floor, traced patterns on the comforter with her fingers. Faith, beside her, couldn't shake the heaviness in her chest. The room, once a haven, felt different—changed by the events that had unfolded.

Faith's hand found its way to Buffy's, fingers intertwining in a silent gesture of solidarity. The touch spoke volumes, carrying the weight of shared experiences and the unspoken bond that had withstood the trials of their extraordinary lives.

Neither spoke, the silence between them pregnant with the echoes of the previous night. The room seemed to hold its breath, as if waiting for them to navigate the uncharted territory that lay ahead.

Finally, Faith broke the quietude, her voice soft but resolute. "We did what we had to do, B. For Aunt Phoebe, for my family."

Buffy nodded, her gaze meeting Faith's. The unspoken understanding between them was a lifeline, grounding them in the face of uncertainty. "Yeah, we did," she affirmed, her voice carrying the weight of both sorrow and determination. "But not just for Phoebe, Faith. For Prudence, for us."

Faith tightened her grip on Buffy's hand, a silent pledge to stand by her side through whatever challenges lay ahead. "Yeah," she replied, her voice a gentle echo. "For our daughter, for the life we want to build together."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Leo approached Piper with a gentle touch, his hand trailing down her arm as he whispered, "Hey." Piper shot him a small smile, but the weight of the recent events lingered in the lines on her face.

"Hey," Piper replied, shifting her position under her husband's watchful stare. The heaviness of her emotions was palpable, and Leo sensed the internal struggle she was facing.

"Why don't you go up and see her?" Leo suggested casually, understanding the importance of the connection between Piper and Phoebe during such challenging times.

Piper shook her head, her vulnerability exposed. "I don't know what to say," she admitted shakily. "I mean, I can't imagine… if it had been you..." Her voice trembled, and Leo, sensing her pain, pulled her gently against him.

"Hey," Paige greeted quietly, entering the scene with a respectful demeanor, not wanting to intrude on their moment of solace.

"Hey," Piper replied, swallowing the lump in her throat.

Paige observed her sister's tired eyes, silently noting the emotional toll the recent events had taken on Piper. She then shifted her gaze toward the stairs, a subtle indication of her concern for Phoebe.

"How is she doing?" Paige questioned, her genuine concern evident in her voice.

Piper took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "I don't know. She hasn't come down yet." Her words carried a mixture of worry and empathy for her sister's struggle.

Paige nodded in understanding. "How long have you been standing there?" she asked, a playful smirk gracing her lips.

"A while," Piper admitted, a small grin breaking through the weariness. Paige chuckled, recognizing Piper's need for a quiet moment to process the overwhelming emotions.

"Where's Faith?" Paige inquired, glancing around the room as they conversed.

Piper's eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for any sign of Faith and Buffy. "She and Buffy haven't come up yet," she replied, a note of concern creeping into her voice.

"We're right behind you, Aunt Piper," Faith affirmed, standing shoulder to shoulder with Buffy as they joined Piper and Leo. "So, did Red go back to Sunnydale?"

Buffy closed her eyes, tapping into her Whitelighter senses. "No, Will is sitting in front of Phoebe's door," she responded, a sense of concern permeating her words.

Paige turned toward the stairs, her thoughts already gravitating toward Phoebe. "Maybe we should go see her," Paige suggested, a compassionate edge to her voice, her concern mirroring Buffy's.

"Okay," Piper agreed, a hint of nervousness in her tone, but she began climbing the stairs before she could reconsider.

Paige exchanged a reassuring smile with Leo as she, Faith, and Buffy passed by. Piper, however, stopped abruptly and turned back.

"What if she wants to be alone?" Piper asked, voicing the concern that had momentarily halted her ascent.

"She's gonna be alone a lot," Faith pointed out sadly.

Faith's observation hung in the air, a heavy acknowledgment of the solitude that Phoebe might face in the days to come.

"Faith's right," Buffy agreed, her tone matching the somber mood. "Maybe right now she needs us."

"Right," Piper concurred, a determination settling into her features. She turned back, resuming her climb up the stairs. The two sisters and their nieces followed suit, reaching the top where they found Willow exactly where Buffy had indicated—sitting in front of Phoebe's door. Piper's timid voice broke the silence.

"Willow?" Piper questioned, her concern evident.

Willow's head snapped up, her tear-streaked face revealing the emotional toll of the night. She sighed, wiping away her tears.

"Did you sit out here all night?" Piper asked, a hint of incredulity coloring her words, a subtle smirk tugging at her lips.

Willow looked up at her and nodded. "Yes. I remember what it was like when Oz left. I thought if she needed someone, I could be close just in case."

Piper's heart swelled with gratitude for Willow's loyalty and compassion. She crouched down beside her, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"That's incredibly sweet, Willow," Piper said, appreciating the genuine concern in her daughter's eyes. "But you shouldn't have to bear this alone. We're all here for Phoebe, and for each other."

Willow nodded, appreciating the support. "I just wanted to be here in case she needed someone. It's hard seeing her go through this."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

!

Phoebe lay sprawled across her bed, cocooned in the soft embrace of her sweatpants and a well-worn oversized jumper. The fabric clung to her as she clutched a pillow to her chest, seeking solace in its fluffy contours. Her room echoed with the weight of her painful sobs, each one a testament to the storm raging within her.

The muffled voices beyond her closed door seemed distant, drowned out by the tempest of emotions tearing through Phoebe's fragile state. A subtle click marked the intrusion of her sisters and nieces into her secluded haven. Despite her earlier desire for solitude, the entry of her family members was a balm to her wounded soul. The realization that she was no longer alone unleashed a torrent of relief, and an unexpected desperation to be enveloped in the comforting arms of her sisters.

Faith, sensing the anguish radiating from her aunt, wasted no time. She gracefully ascended onto the bed, her hand trailing a path of comfort up Phoebe's trembling back, gently brushing strands of disheveled hair away from her tear-streaked face.

Phoebe's eyes, red and swollen, squeezed shut as the intensity of her sobs increased. The magnetic pull of Faith's presence compelled her to turn, seeking refuge in the warmth of her niece's embrace. She buried her tear-stained face in Faith's chest, the fabric absorbing the weight of her grief.

Faith's closed eyes mirrored Phoebe's pain as she responded with an embrace that spoke of unwavering support. "Aunt Phoebe," she whispered, the words carrying a mix of tenderness and concern. She held onto Phoebe as if she were a lifeline, arms wrapped tightly around her, lips pressing a soft kiss onto her aunt's trembling head.

At the edge of the bed, Piper stood, her heart heavy with the burden of witnessing her baby sister's torment. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, and she hesitated before taking a step forward. Paige, sensing Piper's internal struggle, moved up beside her, intertwining their fingers. A silent exchange passed between them, a shared acknowledgment of the pain that bound them together.

Piper, with a mixture of trepidation and determination, joined Faith on the bed. Phoebe's hand shot out towards her, fingers wrapping around Piper's hand with a desperate grip. Piper, touched by the urgency in Phoebe's touch, kissed her sister's hand and brought it to her chest. With her free hand, she reached out to stroke Phoebe's tear-streaked face in a rhythmic and soothing motion.

Paige couldn't help but offer a fleeting smile, a small glimmer of warmth amidst the somber scene unfolding before her. However, she quickly shook off the momentary respite, understanding the gravity of the situation. She took a deep breath, grounding herself before purposefully making her way to the other side of the bed.

Climbing on behind Phoebe, Paige inched as close as humanly possible, a silent declaration of solidarity. Her arm encircled Phoebe's middle, offering a protective embrace that extended beyond words. Paige buried her face in her sister's hair, absorbing the shared sorrow that permeated the room. The connection between them transcended the audible, a silent pact of unwavering support.

Buffy and Willow, sensing the need for their presence, settled on the edge of the bed at Phoebe's feet. Their hands gently rested on Phoebe's legs; a tangible display of comfort meant to anchor her in the sea of grief. The unity of their touch conveyed a collective resolve to weather the storm together.

Phoebe's heart-wrenching sobs intensified, each painful cry reverberating through the room. The force of her grief seemed to physically rake her small frame, a raw expression of the profound loss that weighed on her soul. Yet, in the midst of the emotional tempest, the embrace of her sisters and nieces formed a protective cocoon, offering solace and shared strength.

Amidst the shared anguish, a silent understanding lingered — a belief that, somehow, they would endure this dark chapter as long as they remained united. The harsh reality of their devastating loss could not erase the unspoken conviction that eventually, everything would return to normal, that everything would be okay.

Yet, despite the pain, a glimmer of hope flickered. Phoebe, with her sisters and nieces embracing her, would find a way to navigate the shadows that now enveloped her world. The quiet reassurance echoed in the air—Phoebe would be okay, as long as she had her family surrounding her.