Charmed: Elizabeth Turner

by Brenna's Urbangirl Projects

Born with a sense of otherness, Elizabeth 'Buffy' Turner navigates her dual nature as a half-demon alongside her brother Cole, training rigorously to harness her powers while yearning for a life beyond servitude to the dark forces shaping their destiny.

10. Chapter 10: Wrestling with Demons

Chapter 10: Wrestling with Demons

February 1, 1998 – Sunday

San Francisco Police Department

Inspector Darryl Morris carefully set down a steaming cup of coffee on the table, the comforting aroma mingling with the tension that hung in the air. Across from him sat Mr. Chang, his features etched with a mix of confusion and apprehension. The cold, sterile walls of the interrogation room seemed to close in, a stark backdrop to the unfolding conversation.

Prue, Piper, and Phoebe had sought Darryl out, urgency etched in their expressions. Phoebe, with her unique abilities, had foreseen an ominous event – an attack targeting Mr. Chang. It was a premonition that had set a chain of events in motion, leading to this very room.

"I don't get it," Mr. Chang's voice wavered slightly, a hint of disbelief coloring his words. "Who'd want to kill me?"

Darryl leaned forward; his gaze steady as he met Mr. Chang's eyes. "We're not sure," he replied, his voice carrying a tone of reassurance amidst the uncertainty. "But our sources believe that your life is in danger. Protective custody—"

The weight of the situation seemed to press upon the room, the gravity of potential danger lurking just beyond their awareness. Mr. Chang's skepticism was palpable, his doubt an echo of the incredulity many felt when faced with the inexplicable.

A hint of frustration tinged Mr. Chang's voice as he probed further. "Our sources?" he repeated, a furrow forming on his brow. "What is this? Government surveillance? You have people watching me?"

Darryl sighed, his expression one of patience and understanding. "Mr. Chang, your picture was in the Metro section today," he explained, his words a gentle unraveling of the situation.

Mr. Chang's voice trembled with a blend of frustration and confusion as he leaned forward, his eyes reflecting the emotional turmoil swirling within. "Because I planted some trees," he offered as an explanation, his words tinged with disbelief.

Darryl's sigh carried the weight of a weary detective navigating a labyrinth of mysteries. "Mr. Chang," he began, his tone a mix of concern and determination, "there were four brutal murders in the past week. Where The common denominator is that each victim's picture appeared in the Metro section on the day they died."

A hint of incredulity laced Mr. Chang's voice as he raised a pointed question. "The mayor's in the Metro today," he stated, his words tinged with a touch of irony. "Are you guys harassing him?"

Darryl's response was laced with a note of exasperation, an undercurrent of urgency beneath his words. "Mr. Chang, I'm trying to help you," he implored, his eyes holding a glimmer of compassion.

With a mixture of vulnerability and earnestness, Mr. Chang leaned forward, his voice carrying a hint of desperation. "I don't have any money; I don't have any enemies. Why would anyone want to kill me? This is crazy?"

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Outside the hushed confines of the interrogation room, the Halliwell sisters and Buffy gathered in a tight huddle, their collective expressions a complex tapestry of concern and determination. The dim hallway, bathed in the sterile, flickering light of overhead fluorescents, seemed to press in around them, amplifying the gravity of their situation.

Prue's voice, steady yet contemplative, carried the weight of her unspoken worries as she posed a question that hung in the air like an unspoken challenge. "Alright, what do we do if Darryl can't convince him to lay low?" Her eyes, sharp with a mix of resolve and uncertainty, flicked between her sisters and the half-demon Slayer, her face a mask of intense focus.

Phoebe's response was immediate and fervent, her tone carrying a sharp edge of defiance and readiness. "Oh, well, we follow him," she declared, her eyes sparking with an inner fire. "And if a demon attacks, that is not on our side, we kick some wiccan ass." Her stance was firm, her energy a palpable force that crackled in the dim light of the corridor.

Piper's voice, laden with a note of rueful acknowledgment, joined the fray. "Too bad we don't know who the bad guys are," she mused, her gaze shifting between her sisters and the half-demon Slayer with a mixture of frustration and concern. The uncertainty of their situation was reflected in the deep lines of worry etched across her forehead.

Buffy's response was swift and imbued with a touch of steely determination. "Yeah, well, at least we know who their next victim is," she admitted just as the door to the interrogation room swung open with a resonant creak, revealing Darryl and Mr. Chang emerging from within. The tension in the corridor seemed to pulse in rhythm with their racing hearts.

Prue's voice, carrying a blend of concern and determination, greeted Darryl's approach. "Hey." The simplicity of the greeting belied the weight of their shared predicament.

Darryl's response, a muted echo of the greeting, held the weight of a taxing effort. "Hey," he returned, his voice strained and weary, the deep-set lines on his face betraying the exhaustion that had overtaken him.

Prue's eyes, glimmering with a flicker of hope, held a trace of expectation as she asked a question that had long been on her mind. "So, did you manage to get anything out of him?" Her voice was gentle, yet beneath it lay an unspoken understanding of the likely outcome.

Darryl's weary gesture, as he pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh, was a visible testament to his frustration. "Just a migraine. That's about it," he admitted, the weariness in his voice as heavy as the fatigue that draped his shoulders.

Piper's voice, tinged with disbelief, cut through the heavy air as she voiced what was on everyone's minds. "So, what, you're just going to let him go?" Her eyes followed Mr. Chang's retreating form with a furrowed brow, her concern evident in the tense lines of her face.

Darryl's response was colored with a note of resignation, his words carrying a sense of helplessness. "I don't have a choice," he admitted, his gaze shifting between the Halliwell sisters with a look of frustration and defeat. "He declined the protection."

The focus then shifted to Phoebe as Darryl directed his next question to her, seeking validation from the one whose premonition had set their course in motion. "Phoebe, are you sure he's the guy that you saw get attacked in your premonition?"

Phoebe's gaze was steady and reflective as she recalled the vivid, haunting images from her vision. "Oh, yeah," she affirmed, her voice carrying the weight of her conviction. "And it happened at night too, so we can't just let him go." Her tone was resolute, underscoring the urgency of their task.

Buffy's voice, now resolute and commanding, cut through the mounting tension as she began to formulate a plan. "All right, then. We need to split up into teams," she declared, her words laced with the urgency of their mission. "Prue and I, and, Piper, you go with Phoebe."

Prue's gaze shifted towards the exit, watching as their potential victim disappeared from view. "First one to see a demon yells 'vanquish,' okay? Come on." Her command was brisk, the intensity of the situation mirrored in her sharp, focused gaze.

Streets of San Francisco

Prue and Buffy trailed behind Mr. Chang with a sense of solemn determination, their footsteps creating a muted rhythm on the cracked pavement of the narrow alleyway. The alley, flanked by towering, graffiti-covered walls, seemed to close in around them, its dimly lit confines amplifying the oppressive air of impending danger. Every shadow seemed to writhe with latent menace, the silence between the walls punctuated only by the occasional scurry of a rat or the distant hum of city traffic.

Prue's voice carried a touch of exasperation as she observed their surroundings, her tone marked by a weary sadness. "Ugh, innocents and alleys. Don't they ever learn?" Her words hung in the air, laden with a palpable sense of frustration and concern. This was not the first time she had witnessed the grim consequences of such ill-advised choices, and the thought of another innocent stumbling into danger weighed heavily on her.

Buffy's agreement was tinged with a shared understanding, her gaze sharp and vigilant as she scanned the shifting shadows that danced along the alley's edges. "Yeah, I know," she replied, her voice steady yet tinged with a subtle edge of shared concern. The shadows seemed to shift ominously with every step they took, a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked in the murkiness, reinforcing the urgency of their mission.

They spotted Mr. Chang crouched beside his bike, his hands deftly maneuvering a small, unfamiliar object. The alley was shrouded in an uneasy quiet, broken only by the faint sounds of the bustling city beyond. Without warning, a figure emerged around the corner, cloaked in shadow. The intruder's face was obscured by the brim of a dark hat, but his intent was unmistakable. He hurled a fireball with a menacing arc, its fiery trail cutting through the murky darkness and heading straight for Mr. Chang.

Buffy's reflexes were swift and precise. As the fireball approached, she summoned an energy ball, its brilliant light contrasting sharply against the darkness of the alley. The two spheres of power met in mid-air with a resounding clash. The collision sparked a small but intense explosion, sending a shockwave through the alley that rattled the discarded debris on the ground and briefly illuminated their tense faces with a fierce, flickering light.

"What the hell?" Mr. Chang cried out in shock, his voice cracking with disbelief as he recoiled from the blast, his eyes wide and his hands instinctively shielding his face.

Prue, eyes sharp with focus, was ready to confront the assailant. She reached out to use her power against the suspected demon, but her actions faltered as recognition dawned. Her gaze narrowed, and a flicker of shock crossed her face as she saw the demon's face. The demon turned and fled down the alley, his figure disappearing into the labyrinth of shadows.

"What happened? Why did you let him get away?" Buffy's voice cut through the lingering smoke, laced with frustration and confusion. Her eyes scanned the alley, searching for any sign of the elusive demon, her stance tense with the urgency of the situation.

"I know that demon. I dated that demon," Prue said, her voice a mix of disbelief and resignation. Her tone carried a note of surprise as she stared after the retreating figure, her mind grappling with the unexpected revelation.

"Huh," Buffy replied, her brow furrowing as she processed the information. The confusion in her voice mirrored the bewilderment on her face.

"I thought that Phoebe was the only one…" Buffy trailed off, her words hanging in the air as she tried to reconcile the revelation with her understanding of Prue's past.

"He wasn't a demon when I dated him," Prue said, her voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia and regret.

February 2, 1998 – Monday

Halliwell Manor

In the conservatory the next morning, Buffy found herself seated beside Phoebe, the pages of the Book of Shadows spread out before them like an ancient map of mystic knowledge. The room was bathed in the soft, diffused light of the early morning sun, which filtered through the lush greenery that surrounded them. The scent of earth and blooming flowers filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of coffee from the nearby kitchen. The conservatory was a sanctuary of tranquility, its vibrant plant life standing in stark contrast to the tension of their conversation.

Buffy's gaze drifted towards Piper, who was carefully tending to the plants with a gentle, practiced touch. The muted rustling of leaves and the occasional clink of watering can against ceramic pots punctuated the silence. "I think they're lost, Piper. Dead," she stated, her tone carrying a note of finality that seemed to hang in the air, a heavy silence following her words.

"No, they're not completely," Piper asserted, her voice infused with a stubborn hope that refused to waver. Her hands paused momentarily as she looked up from her task, her eyes reflecting a glimmer of unwavering belief despite the circumstances.

Phoebe's voice interjected softly, her words a gentle explanation that carried a touch of affectionate knowing. "Piper waters when she's nervous," she offered, her tone laced with a warmth that spoke of deep understanding and familiarity. It was clear that Phoebe had witnessed this ritual of Piper's before, an unspoken comfort that Piper sought in moments of anxiety.

"There's nothing to be nervous about," Buffy said, her voice carrying a note of reassurance. "Your cop friend has Mr. Chan in protective custody," she reminded Piper, her words a balm meant to soothe the undercurrent of unease that seemed to permeate the room.

Piper's response was a confession woven with vulnerability, her words providing a glimpse into the intricate web of her emotions. "No, it—it's not him," she began, her voice softening as she touched upon a chord that resonated deeply within them all. "It's the whole 'Prue dated a demon' thing. It kind of hits a nerve with all of us, and obviously I'm not that upset because I'm with Leo, who obviously is not..." Her words trailed off, the weight of her sentiments hanging in the air like a delicate, invisible thread connecting their shared concerns.

"You really have a problem with Phoebe dating my brother?" Buffy asked, her tone probing yet tinged with a hint of hurt. The mention of her brother seemed to cast a shadow over the conversation, deepening the emotional landscape of their discussion.

Piper glanced at the elder Turner sibling, her eyes revealing a mix of regret and concern. She sighed, the sound a soft exhale of resignation. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, Buffy," she told the half-demon Slayer, her voice carrying the weight of an apology that sought to bridge the gap between their conflicting emotions.

"Well, you did," Buffy said, her voice steady but edged with a clear sense of betrayal. "You know that my brother and I are demons and that your youngest sister here loves my brother," she added, the words carrying an undercurrent of frustration and hurt.

Buffy took a deep breath, drawing in the crisp, cool air that seemed to carry the weight of their ongoing tensions. She held it for a moment, feeling the pressure of the unspoken words and emotions that lingered between them, and then let it out slowly. "Look, Piper," she began, her voice steady but tinged with a hint of fatigue. "I know you guys are taking your time wrapping your heads around that Cole and I can be good. But I thought I was gaining your trust."

Before Piper could respond, Phoebe interjected, her voice cutting through the tension with a calming, conciliatory tone. "You are, Buffy," she said, her words a bridge meant to ease the strained atmosphere and affirm the sincerity of Buffy's efforts.

Piper, her expression a blend of contemplation and concern, looked from Buffy to Phoebe. Her hands, still holding the watering can, were momentarily still as she absorbed the weight of the conversation. "Look, it's not just about you or Cole," she began, her voice measured and reflective. "It's about… everything." She paused, searching for the right words, her gaze drifting towards the verdant foliage that surrounded them. "It's about figuring out how we fit all these pieces together—trust, relationships, and our world. It's a lot to process."

Buffy nodded slowly, her eyes searching Piper's for signs of genuine understanding. "I get that," she said, her voice soft but firm. "I really do. But sometimes it feels like we're stuck in this loop of proving ourselves, like no matter what we do, it's never enough."

Phoebe reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Buffy's arm. "It's not that we don't trust you," she said gently. "It's just that it takes time to adjust to new realities. We're all still figuring out how to navigate these changes."

Buffy's eyes met Phoebe's with a glimmer of appreciation. "I know it's a lot," she replied, her voice carrying a mix of gratitude and continued frustration. "But I'm trying my best to show that you guys, Cole and I are on the same side. We just need a little more faith."

Piper's gaze softened, the hard edges of her resolve giving way to a more empathetic understanding. "You're right," she admitted. "And I'm sorry if it felt like we weren't giving you that faith. It's just…we've all been through so much. It's hard to let go of our doubts."

It was then that Prue entered the room, her arrival marked by a sudden shift in the atmosphere. "What are you babbling about?" she inquired, her tone carrying a light touch of amusement that hinted at her desire to gently probe the ongoing conversation.

"Trust and demons," Phoebe replied, her voice carrying the weight of their earlier conversation. "What brought it up was the guy you dated that is now a demon." She paused, the seriousness of the topic momentarily softened by her tone as she continued, "That morphed into us talking about Buffy and Cole and us not trusting her or him."

"Oh," Prue said, her voice carrying a newfound depth of understanding. She glanced briefly at Buffy, her eyes softening as she mouthed, 'Give it time. We do trust you. You've proven yourself to us. But it's going to take time for Piper to get used to that fact or that your brother is dating Phoebe.' The silent message was a blend of reassurance and acknowledgment, a quiet promise that while they were moving toward acceptance, the process would be gradual and require patience. Her expression conveyed a silent apology for the lingering doubts and a heartfelt recognition of Buffy's efforts to bridge the gap between them.

Buffy responded with a nod and a warm smile, a gesture of gratitude that spoke volumes. Her eyes met Prue's with a mixture of relief and appreciation, a silent exchange that underscored her willingness to be patient and understanding.

Prue's attention then shifted to the yearbook that lay open on the table, its pages rich with the weight of time and memories. Her fingers moved with purpose as she flipped through the worn pages, revealing a photograph that seemed to hold a hidden connection to their current predicament. "Alright, so here's the demon that we're looking for, or at least who he used to be. Tom Peters," she announced, her voice imbued with a sense of discovery and purpose. The photograph depicted a younger Tom Peters, his face capturing a moment of youthful confidence and charm.

"Wait, I didn't know you dated the captain of the college football team. How suburban," Phoebe teased, her voice light and playful. The corners of her lips lifted in amusement as she looked at the picture of Tom in the yearbook, her tone carrying a mix of surprise and humor. The playful jab highlighted the contrast between Prue's current situation and her past, adding a touch of levity to the intense focus on their ongoing challenge.

Prue's response carried a note of nostalgia, her voice softening as she allowed herself a moment of reflection. "Yeah, he was a great guy," she confessed, her thoughts drifting back to the memories of Tom Peters. Her eyes momentarily gazed upwards. "Leo!" she called out, her voice filled with urgency and determination.

She then turned and strode purposefully out of the room, her steps echoing with a resolute rhythm. "I wonder if his mother still lives in town. Leo!" she called out again, her voice carrying the urgency of her newfound mission.

"She's on a mission," Buffy remarked, her voice carrying a note of quiet observation. The air in the room was thick with the weight of unspoken questions and the possibilities that lay ahead.

Phoebe's agreement was accompanied by a soft, contemplative hum, her mind clearly engaged with the implications of Prue's new focus.

Piper's voice held a mixture of surprise and realization as she followed the others. "I guess the captain of the football team was a bigger deal than we ever knew," she mused, her words laced with nostalgia and curiosity.

"You think she would be interested in a cheerleader?" Buffy whispered low enough that only Phoebe could hear.

Phoebe glanced at Buffy, blinking at the unexpected question. "I have no idea," she replied, her curiosity piqued. "Why?"

"When Cole first hid me from the Source, I joined the cheerleading squad at Hemery, you know, trying to blend in and be a normal girl," Buffy said, a hint of nostalgia coloring her voice. "I kind of liked cheerleading."

"Buffy, are you gay?" Phoebe wondered, her tone curious but gentle.

"More bisexual," Buffy replied with a casual shrug, her openness reflecting a sense of self-assuredness.

Piper glanced briefly at Phoebe and Buffy, her eyebrows slightly raised at the turn in the conversation, before turning her attention back to Prue. "Uh, Prue, are you sure we should pursue this?"

Prue's focus remained unswayed, her determination like a steady flame in her eyes. "Ask Phoebe. It was her premonition," she said, her voice firm and resolute. "Where on earth is..."

Just as her sentence trailed off, Leo materialized in a radiant burst of blue and white orbs, his arrival punctuating the moment with a soft, ethereal glow. The orbs swirled around him like celestial fireflies, coalescing into his familiar form. Prue's exasperation came through as she met his gaze, her shoulders relaxing slightly at his appearance. "Leo, what took you so long?" she asked, her voice tinged with a mix of relief and impatience.

Leo's greeting was warm and affectionate, a gentle kiss for Piper that carried a mixture of tenderness and reassurance. "Hi," he said softly, his eyes lingering on Piper with a look of deep affection. His next words carried a hint of urgency, laced with the threads of a pressing dilemma. "I had… have a situation."

Piper's concern deepened, her eyes narrowing as worry etched lines on her forehead. "Uh-oh, you mean an 'us' situation or a 'you' situation?" she asked, her voice rising with anxiety. "Oh, don't tell me they've changed their minds about us getting married because if that is the case, then you can just orb me up there right now and—"

"Babbling," Phoebe interjected with a chuckle, her eyes dancing with amusement and affection.

Leo's gaze shifted downward; his eyes fixed on the floor as a tumult of emotions swirled within him. He wrestled with the words, grappling with the fear of disappointing Piper, especially when it involved something as precious as her late mother's wedding ring. "It has nothing to do with them. It has to do with me," he began, his tone tinged with sheepishness. "I sort of, kind of, lost the wedding ring."

"You lost the wedding ring?" Buffy said, her voice laced with surprise and disbelief.

Phoebe's shock was palpable, her features reflecting the surprise that rippled through the room. "Wow, Leo, you lost Mom's ring," she exclaimed, her tone a blend of astonishment and disbelief. "It's a good thing you're dead already."

"I had it in my pocket, Piper," Leo explained, the strain of his situation evident in his voice. "All the orbing in and out..." His words trailed off, leaving the weight of his admission to linger.

Piper's patience seemed to fray, her eyes narrowing with a mix of sternness and desperation. "Your orbs are grass if you do not find that ring," she said, her tone sharp and edged with the significance of the lost ring. The weight of its sentimental value bore down on her, amplifying her frustration.

Amidst the charged atmosphere, Prue's voice cut through with a note of urgency, her eyes fixed intently on the Whitelighter as if seeking guidance through the storm. "Alright, hi," she began, her words carrying a sense of urgency and an undercurrent of tension. "Before blood is spilled, can I just ask a business question? Is it possible to turn a human into a demon?"

"Well, there are rumors," Leo began, his voice tinged with a mixture of caution and somber truth, "stories about demons recruiting humans." He glanced toward Buffy, acknowledging her unique perspective. "You would likely know more about that than I do."

"I've heard rumors of the Source setting up such academies. But I've never seen one myself," Buffy said, her voice steady but laced with the weight of a century's-old knowledge. "The rumors I heard over the last century are about mortals in need striking a deal. You know, the kind of deal alluded to in Christian mythology where the Devil makes a deal for your soul. But here, the mortals are forced into the training academy. A program that destroys their humanity."

"And turns them into demons," Piper concluded, her voice carrying the heavy realization of what they were up against.

"Rumor has it, when they graduate, they have to kill an innocent to seal their demonic conversion permanently," Buffy added, her words casting a dark shadow over the room.

"Well, that explains your four random killings," Phoebe said, her voice tinged with a mix of frustration and realization. "Maybe it's graduation time at the academy."

"Well, if it is, Tom is one human they're not going to demonize," Prue declared, her tone resolute and unwavering. The determination in her eyes reflected her commitment to saving Tom.

"Prue, how do you know we're not too late?" Phoebe asked, her worry evident in the furrow of her brow. "I mean, if we didn't get there on time and stop him..."

"He would have killed an innocent, and then it would have been too late, but we did stop him," Prue reassured, her voice steady. "So now we still have time to save him." Her mind was already working on the next step. "Alright, I'm going to talk to Tom's mother, see if she knows anything. Maybe you guys could come up with, like, a spell to find him or something," she suggested, her gaze shifting to the Book of Shadows.

"How about I come with you, Prue?" Buffy offered, her voice carrying a mix of determination and solidarity. She stepped closer to Prue, her presence a silent promise of support.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Phoebe walked into the living room carrying the Book of Shadows, the weight of the ancient tome almost tangible in her hands. Piper was there, her attention divided between watering the plants and her thoughts about the lost wedding ring. The room was bathed in the soft morning light, creating an atmosphere of quiet urgency.

"Scrying for witches, a spell to find lost love, but there's nothing in here about how to find a demon," Phoebe said, her frustration evident as she flipped through the pages, each one a testament to their family's legacy of magic.

"Oh, well, probably because they usually find us," Piper replied, her tone tinged with irony as she tended to the plants, the familiar routine a small comfort in their chaotic lives.

"Well, there's got to be a way," Phoebe insisted, her voice carrying a note of determination. She closed the Book of Shadows with a soft thud, her mind racing for a solution.

"If there is, Prue and Buffy are gonna have to find it," Piper said, a hint of resignation in her voice. She paused, glancing at Phoebe with a mixture of hope and desperation. "Um, was there anything in there, you know, to help Leo find my ring?"

"Piper, we can't just give up. We have to find this demon before it kills somebody," Phoebe said, her voice firm and resolute, her eyes meeting Piper's with unwavering resolve.

"Okay, well, do you got a spell?" Piper asked, her eyebrows raising in hopeful curiosity.

"Maybe," Phoebe said, her voice tinged with a cautious optimism as she considered their options.

"Maybe?" Piper echoed, her tone a mix of skepticism and anticipation.

"I was working on a spell for Buffy to find Cole," Phoebe explained, her words hesitant yet filled with intent. She glanced down at the Book of Shadows, her fingers tracing the edges of the pages as if seeking inspiration.

"What do you mean to find him?" Piper asked, a note of concern creeping into her voice.

"Neither she nor I have seen him since Buffy's birthday," Phoebe said, her words carrying the weight of worry and uncertainty. The memory of Buffy's birthday lingered in her mind, a reminder of the fleeting moments of peace amidst their constant battles.

"You two haven't seen him in two weeks?" Piper said, her voice laced with surprise as she followed Phoebe upstairs, each step echoing their escalating concern.

"The day of Buffy's birthday, Cole was attacked by bounty hunters," Phoebe explained, her words hurried and filled with a mix of anxiety and determination. "Fearing for Buffy's life—remember she is hidden with a human family, which makes finding her by the Source harder—he decided to disappear for a while." The memory of that day weighed heavily on her, the uncertainty gnawing at her resolve.

The Peters Home

Prue and Buffy sat in the living room across from Mrs. Peters, the air thick with the unspoken worries and hopes of a mother clinging to her faith in her son. The room was filled with memorabilia of Tom's past achievements, trophies and framed photographs that told the story of a promising athlete's life.

"He was so fast. His coach said he could have run track too, but all Tom cares about is football," Mrs. Peters said, her voice tinged with a mix of pride and sorrow. Her eyes gleamed with the memory of her son's athletic prowess, a glimmer of the past she cherished dearly.

Prue leaned forward slightly, her expression soft and empathetic. "I am sorry that we lost touch, but, um, what happened after he got hurt?" she asked, her voice gentle yet probing.

"He was depressed. I understood," Mrs. Peters said, her tone carrying the weight of a mother's endless compassion. Her gaze fell momentarily to her hands, which were clasped tightly in her lap.

"So, the stories that I heard about his being in trouble..." Prue began cautiously, her words trailing off as she watched for Mrs. Peters' reaction.

"The gambling rumors?" Mrs. Peters interjected sharply, her eyes flashing with defensive resolve. "Don't believe a word of it. No one ever came to me looking for money, and Mr. Kellman would have told me if there was a problem."

"Mr. Kellman?" Buffy asked, her curiosity piqued, leaning in slightly to show her attentiveness.

"His business manager. He took such good care of Tom, and he was a wonderful help to me after Tom went away," Mrs. Peters explained, her voice softening as she spoke of Mr. Kellman. The gratitude she felt towards him was evident in her tone, a lifeline during a turbulent time.

"Mrs. Peters, what do you think happened?" Prue asked gently, her eyes searching Mrs. Peters' face for any hint of doubt or hidden truth.

Mrs. Peters took a deep breath, her expression resolute as she clung to her faith in her son. "I think Tom has some things to take care of and he'll be home when he can. I know it in my heart. My son's a good man," she said, her voice unwavering, filled with a mother's unshakeable belief.

Prue and Buffy exchanged a glance, their hearts heavy with the knowledge of Tom's current predicament. They could feel the depth of Mrs. Peters' conviction, her unwavering love for her son, and the hope that one day he would return to her.

Streets of San Francisco

"Prue, can I ask you something?" Buffy said, her voice carrying a hint of hesitation as Prue drove them back to the Manor. The hum of the engine and the rhythmic swish of tires on asphalt filled the silence between them.

"Sure," Prue replied, her eyes fixed on the road ahead, her hands steady on the steering wheel.

"Are you bisexual?" Buffy asked, her tone tentative yet curious.

Prue glanced at Buffy briefly, her eyebrows raising in surprise before she returned her focus to driving. "That's kind of personal, don't you think?"

"A little, maybe," Buffy admitted, her cheeks flushing slightly. The air between them seemed to thicken with unspoken thoughts.

"Why do you ask?" Prue wondered; her curiosity piqued despite herself.

"I am bisexual, and I have to admit I do find you attractive," Buffy said, her voice steady despite the vulnerability in her admission.

Prue's expression softened, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips as she absorbed Buffy's words. "I did have a casual fling with another woman in college," she confessed, her tone thoughtful as she delved into her past. "It was before Tom and I dated. That was the only time I ever thought about it, to tell the truth."

Buffy nodded, her gaze shifting to the passing scenery outside the window. "It can be confusing," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Feeling attracted to people regardless of their gender."

Prue's grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly, her thoughts drifting back to her college days. "Yeah, it can be," she agreed, her voice tinged with a mix of nostalgia and introspection. "But I think it's important to be honest with yourself about what you feel."

Buffy turned to look at Prue, her eyes filled with a newfound respect. "Thank you for sharing that with me," she said sincerely. "It means a lot."

Prue glanced at her again, this time her smile reaching her eyes. "Anytime, Buffy," she said warmly. "We all have our complexities. It's what makes us human."

As Prue drove down the street, the afternoon sun casting a warm glow over the pavement, her thoughts drifted back to Buffy's candid admission. The conversation had stirred something within her, a mixture of curiosity and introspection that refused to be ignored. She replayed Buffy's words in her mind, the honesty and vulnerability in her voice echoing in Prue's thoughts.

Her mind wandered back to her college days, to that brief yet intense fling with a woman whose name she hadn't thought of in years. The memories came rushing back, vivid and tinged with the excitement and uncertainty of youth. She remembered the stolen glances, the shared laughter, the electric touch of a hand grazing hers. It had been a whirlwind, a fleeting chapter in her life that she had tucked away neatly as she moved forward.

Could she have been bisexual and never realized it? The question lingered in her mind, unraveling the fabric of her self-perception. She had always considered herself straight, her relationships with men defining her romantic life. But now, with Buffy's words stirring the waters of her past, she couldn't help but wonder if there was more to her sexuality than she had acknowledged.

The woman from college had been different, someone who had ignited a spark within her that she hadn't fully understood at the time. Prue had chalked it up to experimentation, a phase of exploration that many went through during their formative years. But what if it had been more than that? What if it had been a glimpse into a part of herself she had never fully embraced?

Prue's grip on the steering wheel tightened as she navigated a turn, her thoughts swirling like the autumn leaves caught in the breeze. She considered the possibility that her attraction to that woman, however brief, had been genuine, a reflection of a deeper, more complex aspect of her identity. The realization was both unsettling and liberating, a door opening to new avenues of self-discovery.

She stole a glance at Buffy, who was looking out the window, lost in her own thoughts. There was a strength and resilience in Buffy that Prue admired, a courage to be true to herself despite the complexities of her life. It was a quality that Prue found herself drawn to, a mirror reflecting her own inner struggles and triumphs.

As the Manor came into view, its familiar silhouette offering a sense of comfort and stability, Prue took a deep breath, resolving to explore this newfound understanding of herself. She wasn't sure where this journey of self-discovery would lead, but she felt a sense of readiness, an openness to whatever truths she might uncover.

Halliwell Manor

hoebe and Piper were sitting at a table, the atmosphere heavy with concentration as Phoebe lit a candle and Piper held onto a crystal. Together, they chanted, their voices harmonizing in a delicate balance. "Guiding spirits I ask your charity, lend me your focus and clarity," they intoned, their words weaving through the air like a spellbinding melody, "lead me to the one I cannot find, restore that and my peace of mind."

Just then, Prue and Buffy walked in, the familiar creak of the door marking their entrance. "Hey, what's all this?" Prue asked, curiosity lacing her tone as she took in the scene before her.

Phoebe blew out the candle, its flame flickering into a wisp of smoke that curled upwards. She looked up at Buffy and Prue, a hopeful glint in her eyes. "Oh, we were just looking for Tom. It's a little spell I created to find Cole," she explained, her voice carrying a note of pride and anticipation.

"You created a spell to find Cole?" Buffy said, a smile spreading across her face at the thought of locating her elusive brother. The idea of reuniting with him brought a warmth to her heart, a flicker of hope amidst the uncertainty.

"Yes," Phoebe affirmed, meeting Buffy's gaze with a reassuring nod. She then turned her attention to Prue, her expression earnest. "I thought it might work to find Tom instead."

"Thank you," Prue said, her voice soft with gratitude. "I really appreciate you doing this for me."

"Okay, what did Tom's mother say?" Piper asked, her curiosity piqued as she set the crystal down gently on the table.

Prue sighed, her expression one of empathy and sorrow. "Poor lady. She talks about him like he's been gone a week as opposed to six years and she actually thinks he's coming back," she recounted, her voice tinged with sadness for the woman's unwavering hope.

"Based on...?" Piper prompted, her brows furrowing in concern.

"Faith," Prue replied simply. "And Prue and I would like to prove her right," Buffy added, her determination evident as she stood beside Prue, their shared resolve forming a united front.

"Well, we're doing everything we can," Phoebe said, her tone infused with a quiet confidence, the determination to help evident in her eyes.

"Yeah, and you know what?" Prue continued, a spark of optimism lighting up her features. "We have saved bad boys before. I mean, what about the priest with the warlock brothers?" She then looked towards Buffy, her gaze steady and appreciative. "And we know demons can be good, thanks to Buffy."

"Prue, the warlock brother wanted to be saved. And as far as Buffy is concerned, we know the Slayer half of her does overshadow the demon half of her. And if Buffy is right about her brother, his love for both her and Phoebe will overshadow his demon. But can you guarantee any of that about Tom?" Piper's voice carried the weight of her skepticism, her eyes searching Prue's for reassurance.

Before Prue could respond, Phoebe interjected with a pressing concern. "So, if this spell works and we actually find him, what do we do? Do we vanquish him?" The question hung in the air, laden with the gravity of the decision they might have to make.

"Well, I'm hoping that it won't come to that," Prue said, though her tone was not entirely confident. The uncertainty of the situation was palpable.

"Yeah, but what if it does, Prue?" Phoebe pressed, the urgency in her voice rising as they suddenly heard a loud bang from the front door.

"What was that?" Buffy asked, her instincts kicking in as they all moved quickly towards the foyer.

Prue reached the door first and pulled it open, finding a newspaper lying on the porch. She picked it up, her brows furrowing in confusion. "Huh, alright, since when did they start delivering newspapers in the afternoon?" she mused, flipping through its pages, noting the unusual absence of pictures.

"Since they started taking out all the pictures," Piper remarked, a trace of suspicion in her voice.

"Wow, it's a pretty cool spell if I do say so myself," Phoebe said, a hint of pride in her magical handiwork.

"Yeah, except what is it telling us?" Buffy asked, peering over Phoebe's shoulder at the altered newspaper.

Phoebe turned to the Metro section and spotted a picture of a woman. "Oh, that. 'Claudia Gibson will discuss the mayor's position on Net News Live today at 2:00.' Which is ten minutes ago."

"Hmm? Our next innocent?" Piper asked, her voice tinged with concern.

"As in Tom's next victim," Prue said, the realization hitting them all simultaneously.

Buffy stepped forward, determination written across her face. "If it started ten minutes ago, the quickest way would be for me to shimmer us there." She held out her hands, ready to transport them instantly.

Prue nodded, her resolve solidifying. "Alright, Buffy, let's go." They all reached for Buffy's hands.

San Francisco City Hall

Outside City Hall, Claudia walked toward her car, her steps brisk and purposeful. Unbeknownst to her, Tom followed from a distance, his eyes locked onto his target with predatory intent. Shadows clung to the corners of the street, amplifying the sense of danger that loomed.

In a nearby alley, Buffy, Prue, Piper, and Phoebe shimmered into existence, their arrival marked by a brief, shimmering glow. They emerged from the alley just in time to see Tom raise his hand, a fireball forming in his palm. With a swift, practiced motion, he hurled it toward Claudia.

Piper acted quickly, her hands flying up to freeze the fireball mid-air. The flaming orb hung suspended in time, inches from Claudia, who remained blissfully unaware of the impending threat. The sisters and Buffy sprinted toward Tom, their determination palpable.

"Well, we didn't bring a vanquish, but if we throw him into the street, that might do the trick," Piper suggested, her voice edged with frustration and urgency.

"We are not gonna vanquish him," Prue insisted, her tone firm.

"Prue, he almost killed that woman," Phoebe countered, her eyes flashing with concern and disbelief.

"Almost, but didn't," Buffy interjected, her voice a steadying force amidst the chaos.

Prue extended her hand, using her telekinetic power to deflect the fireball. The redirected flame shot off course, striking a parked car instead and causing a small explosion. The sound echoed through the street, drawing gasps from passersby who scattered in alarm. "Alright, we need to get him home," she said, her voice resolute.

Halliwell Manor

In the attic of the Manor, Prue stood leafing through the ancient pages of the Book of Shadows, her eyes scanning for crucial information. The room was filled with an air of tension, the dim light casting long shadows that seemed to mirror the gravity of their situation. Buffy stood nearby, her gaze fixed on Tom, who was tied securely to a chair, his muscles straining as he struggled to break free.

Piper and Phoebe entered the attic, their expressions a mix of concern and determination. Piper quickly raised her hands, freezing Tom in mid-struggle. The room fell silent, save for the faint rustling of the Book's pages.

"Did you find anything yet?" Piper asked her eldest sister, her voice tinged with urgency.

"About the demonic training academy," Prue replied, her finger tracing a line of text. "It's right here in the Book."

"Oh, really?" Phoebe said, her curiosity piqued just as the phone rang downstairs, its shrill tone a stark contrast to the heavy atmosphere of the attic.

Prue nodded, reading aloud from the Book. "'A brutal training program which destroys humanity and renders the subject demonic.'" She glanced at Buffy. "Just like the rumors you heard." She then looked at her sisters. "Alright, so if Tom is completely demonic, he'll have a brand on his arm with six chevrons."

Piper moved to Tom's side and carefully rolled up his sleeve, revealing five chevrons burned into his skin. "He's only got five," she noted.

"Good, that means he's not fully converted," Buffy said, a hint of relief in her voice.

"We better vanquish him while we can," Phoebe said, her tone resolute.

Prue shot her a pointed look. "You know, when Cole was the hybrid in question, you were all about saving him," she reminded her youngest sister. "And so far, Buffy here has been proving that she and Cole were worth saving. Anyways, this is different," she added as Tom unfroze. She stepped closer to him. "Tom, look at me. Do you remember me from college?"

Even though Tom was bound to the chair, he managed to muster enough energy to throw a fireball at Prue. The fiery orb missed her by inches, striking the wall and leaving a scorch mark.

"Hmm, does that mean he remembers you or he doesn't?" Piper asked wryly as the doorbell rang downstairs, the sound echoing through the house. "What is going on down there?" she wondered, glancing toward the attic door.

"Why don't you guys go and find out?" Prue suggested, her tone calm yet authoritative. "Buffy and I can handle him."

Piper and Phoebe exchanged glances before nodding and heading out of the attic. As the door closed behind them, Prue and Buffy turned their full attention back to Tom, the air between them thick with unspoken determination and the weight of the task at hand.

Downstairs, Phoebe opened the front door to find Darryl standing on the front porch, a manila folder in hand. "Got Tom Peter's file," he said, handing it over.

"We got Tom," Phoebe replied, her tone heavy with the weight of their ongoing struggle. As she took the file, a sudden movement caught her eye—a white dog darted past her legs and bolted into the house.

"Rasputin! Get off the..." Piper's voice trailed off as she caught sight of the dog. Her eyes widened in shock, and a mixture of disbelief and joy washed over her features. "Rasputin?"

Darryl looked puzzled. "You got a dog?" he asked, glancing from the dog to the sisters.

"No, that's our Grams' dog, and he's been lost for…" Phoebe began, her voice tinged with nostalgia.

"Seven years, Phoebe," Piper interjected, her eyes still fixed on the dog.

Phoebe shook her head slightly, a small smile playing on her lips. "Okay, so there's one small side effect. We can handle that," she said as the phone rang, the sudden noise breaking the momentary spell of Rasputin's return.

Piper glanced towards the ringing phone, frustration creasing her brow. "Why is the answering machine not picking up?" she asked, hurrying into another room to answer it.

"I cast a little spell," Phoebe admitted, her voice laced with a touch of guilt.

Darryl sighed, shaking his head with a resigned smile. "The less I know, the happier I am," he said, his tone conveying a mix of amusement and exasperation.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

In the kitchen, Piper picked up the phone. "Hello? An old friend of Prue's. Okay, let me get a pencil. Aah!" she exclaimed as she opened a drawer, causing dozens of pencils to spill out onto the floor. Amid the chaos, her eyes widened as she spotted her ring gleaming on the tiles. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my… oh, call back again soon," she stammered, hanging up in a rush as Phoebe walked in.

"What is it? What did you find?" Phoebe asked, her curiosity piqued by Piper's flustered state.

"Lost friends, Mom's ring, and your brown hair," Piper replied, her gaze fixing on Phoebe's hair, which had inexplicably returned to its natural brunette hue. "Oh, yeah, mm-hmm."

Phoebe grabbed a nearby tray and used it as a makeshift mirror. "I did not want my brown hair back, I wanted to keep that lost," she lamented, her fingers running through the dark strands.

Darryl, who had followed them into the kitchen, looked baffled. "You were blonde when you answered the door. How'd it change?"

Phoebe pointed at the kitchen sink. "Well, it must be because I colored my hair in that sink. So technically, I lost it there, and now I've found it again. I hope this doesn't affect my virginity."

Piper's eyes widened with realization. "Wait, so everything is coming back to where it was lost? That means… Cole could…"

"I hope so for my sake and Buffy's," Phoebe said, her voice tinged with hope and concern. Just then, the laundry room door burst open, and hundreds of mismatched socks spilled out, covering the floor.

"Okay, so it's a big side effect," Phoebe said, sighing at the sight.

Piper placed her hands on her hips, giving Phoebe a stern look. "Those better be clean. If not, it's laundry day for you, missy."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

In the attic, Tom's eyes bore into Buffy and Prue with an intensity fueled by a blend of arrogance and defiance. "You don't scare me. I've been trained to deal with witches," he spat, his voice dripping with contempt.

"But I'm not a witch," Buffy replied with a smirk, her confidence unwavering.

Tom's glare intensified as he addressed Buffy directly. "I know who you are, Nyxara," he said, his voice laced with disdain for the half-demon Slayer.

Prue's eyes narrowed as she studied Tom. "I'd forgotten how proud you were when we knew each other," she said, her tone carrying a mix of nostalgia and disappointment.

"I've forgotten you completely," Tom retorted coldly, his words cutting like ice.

Prue took a step closer, her gaze piercing. "You don't want to tell us what happened because you don't want to admit how badly you screwed up."

Tom's expression hardened. "I didn't," he insisted, his defiance masking a flicker of doubt.

"Obviously," Buffy interjected, rolling her eyes in exasperation.

Prue's voice softened slightly, trying to reach the human within. "While you were still human, you were stupid enough to enter into some demonic contract."

Tom's response was immediate and bitter. "I was never human."

"You had to have been," Buffy countered. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have made it into the academy."

Prue seized the opportunity to press further. "We know about the academy. We know about the chevrons. We also know that you haven't killed your innocent yet."

A sinister smile crept across Tom's face. "I will," he vowed. "Just as Nyxara had to."

Prue's eyes widened as she glanced at Buffy, confusion and concern etched across her face. "What?"

Buffy shook her head vehemently, her own confusion evident. "I don't know what you're talking about," she insisted.

Tom's smile turned into a sneer. "Yes, you do, Nyxara. Recruits are not the only ones sent to the academy. So are upper-level demons to be trained. You are one of the most distinguished graduates."

Buffy's eyes widened in shock and disbelief. "He's lying, Prue, he has to be. I don't remember going to any academy," she protested, her voice tinged with desperation.

"You are over a hundred years old. Are you sure there aren't things you've forgotten?" Prue asked, her voice probing yet gentle.

Buffy's expression was one of frustration and confusion. "I don't know," she admitted, shaking her head. "But even if I did go through the academy, you've seen me. My Slayer half dominates my demon half. I'm good."

"I know, Buffy," Prue said reassuringly, her tone warm and steady. She turned her attention back to Tom, her eyes filled with determination. "You'll never be able to kill your innocent; you will have to get past us first."

Tom's face contorted with a mix of fear and desperation. "Kellman'll kill us if I don't," he muttered.

"Kellman," Prue repeated, her brow furrowing as she tried to make sense of the situation. She softened her tone, hoping to reach the part of Tom that still remembered his humanity. "Tom, I know who you are, the person that you were, alright? And I know that somewhere in there, it still exists. Look, Tom." She picked up her yearbook and opened it to his picture, holding it up for him to see. "This is who you are, alright? This is who your mother is waiting for."

Tom's eyes flickered with a brief moment of recognition before hardening again. "Vanquish me, or I will kill you and Nyxara, witch," he spat, his voice filled with venom.

"Neither is going to happen, alright?" Prue said, her voice firm and resolute. "I am going to save you from yourself whether you like it or not." With a determined flick of her wrist, she telekinetically loosened Tom's ropes, giving him a chance to break free from his physical and metaphorical bonds. She then grabbed Buffy's arm and pulled her out of the attic with her.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Prue walked into the kitchen; her brow furrowed with concentration. "Okay, so I think I have an idea of how to…" Her voice trailed off as she took in the sight of the cluttered room, filled with an assortment of objects that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. "Whoa."

Phoebe, standing amidst the chaos, gave a sheepish smile. "My lost and found spell's a little too enthusiastic."

Piper, sorting through a pile of old books and trinkets, nodded in agreement. "We're finding stuff all over the house. It's endless."

Darryl, who had been cautiously inspecting a dusty antique, glanced up with a worried expression. "I don't mean to sound paranoid, but after all these years I think I've earned that right," he said. "How do you know your spell is not gonna find demons that you've already vanquished?"

Prue, trying to lighten the mood, gave a small smile. "Let's hope it's not that good." She then turned her attention back to Darryl. "Did you get anything on Tom?"

Darryl handed her a thin file, his face serious. "Just a missing persons file."

Prue took the file and began flipping through it. "Anything on a man named Kellman?" she asked, her tone sharpening with curiosity and concern.

Before Darryl could respond, the sound of the front door closing echoed through the house. Piper's head snapped up, her eyes wide with alarm. "What was that?"

Prue's face fell into a grim expression. "That would be Tom escaping."

"What?" Phoebe exclaimed, her eyes widening in shock.

"Yeah, I loosened his ropes," Prue admitted, her voice steady. "I have Buffy shimmering after him, tracking him back to the demon that turned him. Then she will come get us so we can break him, break his hold on Tom." She looked back at Darryl, her eyes filled with determination. "Anything that you can get me on Kellman I'd appreciate, okay?"

Streets of San Francisco

Buffy moved like a shadow through the night, shimmering from rooftop to rooftop, her eyes never losing sight of Tom. The city stretched out beneath her, a sprawling maze of lights and shadows, but her focus remained unwavering. She watched as Tom made his way to an old, decrepit building, its windows dark and foreboding. He glanced around nervously before slipping inside. Buffy crouched on the edge of the rooftop, her keen eyes narrowing. "Must be where Kellman is," she murmured to herself, the realization sending a shiver of anticipation down her spine.

Without wasting another moment, she shimmered out of sight.

Halliwell Manor

Buffy reappeared in the Manor's kitchen where Prue, Piper, and Phoebe were gathered, still surrounded by the aftermath of the overzealous lost-and-found spell. The air was thick with tension and the scent of old memories.

Buffy's sudden appearance made them all look up. "You guys ready?" she asked, her voice steady but urgent.

Prue stepped forward; her expression resolute. "We're ready. Did you find him?"

Buffy nodded, her eyes flickering with determination. "Yeah, I followed him to an old building. I'm pretty sure Kellman is in there."

The Academy

Buffy, Prue, Piper, and Phoebe entered Kellman's office, their footsteps echoing in the eerie silence. The room was dimly lit, filled with shadows that seemed to dance around them, heightening the sense of unease. They glanced around, taking in the sparse furniture and the eerie stillness that hung in the air.

"Where is he?" Phoebe asked, her voice tinged with frustration and confusion. She scanned the room, her senses on high alert, but there was no sign of Kellman.

Prue frowned, her eyes narrowing as she moved further into the room. "Doesn't make any sense. If he could vanish, he would have done it before," she said, her mind racing through possible explanations. She looked around, trying to piece together the puzzle.

Buffy nodded, her brows furrowed in concentration. "I have to agree," she said. "The whole point of me shimmering was because going back to your house and returning here was instantaneous. There is no way he could have left in that brief time."

Piper's eyes darted around the room, her instincts screaming that something was wrong. "I got a bad feeling about this," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She clutched her hands together, ready to freeze anything that might jump out at them.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

In the dimly lit academy proper, the atmosphere was thick with tension and malevolence. Tom emerged from an elevator, his steps echoing on the cold marble floor as he made his way to Kellman, who stood with an air of impatience and authority.

"I have good news, Mr. Kellman," Tom said, his voice carrying a hint of urgency.

Kellman turned, his eyes narrowing with expectation. "You killed the innocent," he stated, his tone devoid of curiosity, expecting a simple confirmation.

"Better," Tom replied, a gleam of excitement in his eyes. "I can deliver you three witches and Nyxara."

Kellman's interest piqued slightly, but his expression remained stern. "Witches? I don't care about witches. I care about deadlines. Yours and mine." His impatience was palpable, but then he paused, his demeanor shifting subtly. "Nyxara? You have seen her?"

"Yes," Tom confirmed, a note of satisfaction in his voice. "She was in her human form with the witches."

Kellman's eyes darkened, a flicker of intrigue crossing his face. "Killing Nyxara wouldn't fulfill your deadline," he mused. "But if you could do it, I am sure it would curry favor with…" He trailed off, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air, a sudden change in his demeanor. "Is that humanity I'm sensing from you? Huh? Now how did that come back? That was supposed to be drummed out of you by now. You need a refresher course."

Before Tom could react, lights blazed on around a wrestling ring, illuminating the area with harsh, unforgiving brightness. The sudden shift in light revealed two burly demons who advanced on Tom with menacing intent. They grabbed him roughly, dragging him towards the ring as Kellman watched, his expression a mixture of disdain and satisfaction.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

In Kellman's office, the air felt charged with unease. Piper picked up a soccer ball that seemed oddly out of place amid the otherwise cold and clinical environment. She turned it over in her hands, a frown creasing her forehead. "This is weird," Piper said. "So Kellman poses as a human and then what? Gives athletes a way out of their problems?"

"Yeah, a demonic way out," Phoebe said, her voice heavy with disdain.

Prue paced thoughtfully, her mind racing with the implications. "Alright, what about your lost and found spell?" she asked, her gaze sharpening as she turned to Phoebe. "Do you think you could rewrite it to find Tom specifically?"

Phoebe's eyes lit up with determination. "Maybe. Let's see..." She took a deep breath, focusing her energy. "Show me the past that I cannot find, to save Tom and restore Prue's peace of mind," she chanted, her voice imbued with purpose.

The moment the last word left her lips, a ripple of magical energy coursed through the room. The walls seemed to shimmer, and then, as if emerging from a mirage, elevator doors appeared on one wall, solid and real.

"Whoa," Buffy said, her eyes wide with astonishment.

Prue's face broke into a relieved smile. "Way to go, Pheebs," she said, her voice filled with admiration and hope.

In the academy proper, the atmosphere was heavy with anticipation. A large wrestler was in the ring, towering over a smaller, terrified guy. With brutal efficiency, the wrestler started throwing the guy around, each thud echoing ominously through the room.

Inside the elevator, Buffy, Prue, Piper, and Phoebe were slowly descending, the tension thick in the small space. "Remind me again why we are doing this," Piper said, her voice edged with anxiety.

"Because your sisters have a thing for saving bad boys," Phoebe said, attempting to inject a bit of humor to lighten the mood.

"If I die before I get married, I'm gonna be really mad at the two of you," Piper muttered as the doors finally slid open with a metallic groan.

"Oh god," Phoebe said, her eyes widening at the sight that greeted them.

"Okay, I'd still like to point out that I have a really bad feeling about this," Piper said, her instincts screaming at her to turn back as she, Prue, and Phoebe stepped out of the elevator.

They moved forward cautiously, but then noticed Buffy wasn't with them. "Buffy?" Prue called, turning back to see the half-demon Slayer still standing in the elevator, her gaze fixed on the scene unfolding in the ring.

Buffy stared ahead, her eyes unfocused as memories flooded back. She was five years old again, trapped in the academy's brutal training program. The ring, the wrestling, the violence—it all came rushing back. She remembered the fear, the pain, and the relentless training that sought to erase her humanity. Her heart pounded in her chest, the past and present blurring together.

"Buffy!" Prue called again, her voice pulling Buffy out of her reverie.

Buffy blinked, her eyes refocusing on the present. The harsh fluorescent lights of the academy's underground arena flickered above her, momentarily blinding her as she shook off the weight of her past. She took a deep breath, grounding herself in the here and now. "Sorry," she said, stepping out of the elevator, her voice steadier than she felt.

Her mind raced as she revealed more than she had intended. "Tom was right," she began, her gaze sweeping across the grim surroundings of the academy. "I've been here before. When I was five years old, my mother sent me through this very program. It was meant to eradicate my humanity, to force me into a mold where my human emotions and impulses were suppressed, obliterated."

She paused, her voice catching as she remembered the suffocating atmosphere of the training. "And it worked. For the next twenty-three years, I lived as a vessel of pure evil. My human side was buried so deep, I could barely recognize it."

Buffy's eyes softened as she recounted the turning point in her life. "Then one day, I saw a woman figure skating. The grace, the freedom in her movements—it stirred something inside me. I wanted to learn. I wanted to feel that joy, that lightness. It was in those lessons that my humanity began to resurface, piece by piece. It was like finding a long-lost part of myself that had been hidden away."

The scene in the academy's underground arena was chaotic and brutal. The large wrestler, a hulking figure of muscle and menace, had just finished demonstrating his dominance. As he raised his arms in triumph, his booming voice filled the space. "I'm the man!" he declared, his tone dripping with arrogant satisfaction. He held the unfortunate opponent pinned on the mat, and the ground beneath them began to shift ominously. A gaping hole opened up, revealing a fiery pit below, its flames flickering and crackling with a hungry glow. The defeated man fell into the inferno, his screams swallowed by the roar of the fire.

"Next!" Kellman commanded, his voice slicing through the thick, smoky air with a chilling efficiency. Tom, his face a mask of grim determination, stepped forward and entered the ring. His movements were measured, each step calculated as he approached the arena of his impending trial.

"Tom," Prue called out, her voice filled with concern as she started to walk towards the ring. Her intent was clear—she wanted to intervene, to help him. But Phoebe and Piper quickly moved to restrain her, their eyes wide with alarm.

"Hey, hey, hey, hey!" Piper exclaimed, trying to pull Prue back. Her voice carried a note of urgency mixed with disbelief.

"Whoa!" Phoebe added, her expression reflecting the shock of the situation. She grabbed Prue's arm, her grip firm as if trying to anchor her from rushing into the danger.

"Are you nuts?" Piper asked, her voice rising with frustration. She glanced at Phoebe, who nodded in agreement, both sisters clearly unsettled by the dire circumstances unfolding before them.

"Maybe we need to go back up top and rethink this whole thing," Phoebe suggested, her voice trembling slightly with a mix of fear and practicality. She looked at Piper, their shared concern evident in their eyes.

"No," Buffy said firmly, stepping forward. Her gaze was intense, her determination unyielding as she looked at Piper and Phoebe. "We don't have time. If Tom loses in that ring, he dies."

"The thing is, isn't it silly for the three of us to sacrifice ourselves for one guy, whatever kind of guy he was?" Piper argued, her voice tinged with a mix of skepticism and frustration.

"I have to agree with Piper," Phoebe said, her tone laced with reluctant agreement. Her eyes flickered with doubt as she faced the grim reality of the situation.

"Alright, what kind of witches would we be if we started playing the odds, if we started picking and choosing our innocents?" Prue said, her voice resonant with conviction as she faced her sisters. Her words hung in the air, a reminder of their core mission and values. "I mean, this is what we do, isn't it?" Her gaze swept across the room, emphasizing the gravity of their role as protectors of the innocent.

"Besides, I'm a demon, remember? And you gave me a chance to prove I'm not evil. Doesn't Tom deserve the chance to be redeemed?" Phoebe's words carried a weight of personal experience and empathy. Her eyes were earnest, reflecting the struggle she had faced and the chance she had been given to redeem herself.

"Then let's do it," Phoebe said, her resolve strengthening as she looked at her sisters.

"Okay," Prue said, her agreement firm and resolute. She shared a glance with Phoebe, both of them ready to act despite the overwhelming odds.

"But..." Piper started to interject, her voice tinged with concern as she hesitated, trying to voice her reservations about the plan.

"Tom!" Prue called out, her voice cutting through the tension as she shouted toward the ring. Her command was urgent, her concern for Tom clear in her tone.

The demons, who had been engaged in their own chaotic activities, started to rush over in response to Prue's call. Piper's face set in determination as she quickly raised her hands and cast a spell. The air around them shimmered as she froze all the approaching demons, their movements coming to a sudden, jerky halt. However, Kellman, Tom, Buffy, and the wrestler remained unfrozen, the tension in the room escalating.

Kellman, unfazed by the sudden turn of events, conjured a menacing sphere—a ball with three sharp, gleaming blades protruding from it. It hovered dangerously close to Tom's neck, its presence a stark threat. "Your little parlor tricks may work on some of the newer boys, but the rest of us will be a little tougher," Kellman said with a sneer, his voice dripping with disdain. He nonchalantly rolled up his sleeve to reveal the intimidating array of eight chevrons etched into his arm, each one a symbol of his formidable power.

His gaze then shifted to Buffy, his expression darkening with a mix of malice and recognition as he acknowledged her presence. "Hello, Nyxara. Long time no see," Kellman said, his voice laced with a hint of nostalgia and disdain. "Heard from the Source that your human side had been called as the Slayer. Though that is not why the Source has decreed that you be killed. No, your brother's betrayal has marked you for death." His eyes bore into her, conveying a deep-seated animosity that spoke of old grudges and lingering vendettas.

"That's old news," Buffy responded with a mixture of defiance and weariness. "I already knew the Source wanted me dead. The only reason I'm not in hiding like Cole is because I was shielded from the Source long before Cole killed the Triad. Hidden with a human family." Her voice was steady, but the underlying tension revealed the weight of the history she carried with her.

Kellman's lips curled into a smirk as he turned his attention back to the sisters. "You girls are way out of your league down here. Just ask Nyxara if you don't believe me." His tone was condescending, as if he were dismissing them as mere amateurs in a world far beyond their grasp.

"Well, we know that you have a deadline, Mr. Kellman. Time to deliver your recruits?" Prue said, her voice firm and unwavering. She stood with a determined posture, ready to confront the adversary head-on.

"And you think you can stop me, hmm?" Kellman retorted, his gaze sharp and calculating. "Think you can save him?" He motioned toward Tom with a gesture that conveyed both contempt and amusement. "I kind of admire that level of arrogance." His eyes glittered with a cruel sense of appreciation for their audacity.

"Thanks," Prue smiled, her confidence unwavering. "We kind of like to think of it as confidence."

"Well, get over it. He's lost," Kellman said with a dismissive wave of his hand. His tone was final, as if the matter were settled and beyond redemption.

"I made a deal. I stand by it," Tom declared with a resolute tone. As he spoke, the sharp, menacing ball that had hovered near his neck vanished into thin air. He stepped out of the ring, aligning himself with Kellman with a look of resignation and compliance.

"Now, you see that?" Kellman said, his voice tinged with satisfaction. "Now, that's what I call a quick recovery, huh? Knocked the humanity right out of him and we got a perfect kill for him too." His eyes gleamed with a twisted sense of triumph as he regarded Tom, showcasing the demon's complete transformation.

"Uh, not if we put him on ice," Piper interjected as she swiftly raised her hands. A surge of magic emanated from her, freezing Tom in place. "Kind of hard to make him kill an innocent now, huh?"

"Unfreeze him," Kellman commanded, his voice dripping with authority and impatience. His eyes, cold and calculating, locked onto Piper as he took deliberate steps toward her, his imposing figure casting a shadow over the room.

"Nope," Piper responded defiantly, her stance firm despite the looming threat. Her gaze was steady, betraying no hint of fear as Kellman approached. "Ah! If anything happens to me, he's gonna stay that way." Her words were laced with a fierce determination, a clear message that she was prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice to protect Tom.

"Is that true?" Buffy whispered urgently, her eyes darting between Piper and Kellman. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on her, and she needed confirmation of the stakes involved.

"Yes," Piper whispered back; her voice resolute but edged with the stress of the confrontation. Her eyes met Buffy's with an intensity that conveyed that she was bluffing.

"You're bluffing," Kellman said, a smirk playing on his lips as he tried to gauge their resolve. His expression was one of skepticism, as if he didn't believe they would actually go through with their threat.

"Are we?" Prue asked, her tone calm yet assertive. She stepped forward; her eyes locked onto Kellman's with a determined glint. Her confidence in their plan was clear, and she was prepared to stand her ground.

"I'm listening," Kellman said, his interest piqued. He stopped his advance, turning his full attention to Prue. The challenge in his voice was evident, as he waited to see what they would offer in exchange for Tom's life.

"Alright, how about three witches and Buffy in exchange for Tom's soul?" Prue proposed, her voice steady and unwavering as she made the bold offer. The proposal was risky but intended to shift the balance of power.

"Prue!" Phoebe cried out, her voice tinged with shock and concern. The offer was unexpected and risky, and Phoebe's reaction revealed her worry about the potential consequences.

"If we win, we get Tom back," Buffy said, her voice firm and resolute. She addressed Kellman directly, her expression showing a mix of determination and resolve. "If we lose, you get Tom and we die in the ring."

"You really think you can win in the ring?" Kellman's voice dripped with skepticism, his eyes narrowing as he assessed the four women before him. His tone carried a mix of mockery and challenge, as if he were already envisioning their imminent failure.

"Well, you know, we don't really have much of a choice," Prue responded, her gaze steady and unyielding despite the daunting challenge ahead. "But if we do win, we don't go into the training program. We go free." Her voice held a note of resolve, clearly indicating their desperation and determination to see the plan through.

"Did your homework. Okay, you got a deal," Kellman said, his smirk widening as he acknowledged their knowledge of the stakes. "You win, you go free." His words were almost taunting as he made the deal, the amusement in his eyes revealing his anticipation of their struggle. "But if you lose, well, like Nyxara said, you die. I can't control what happens in the ring, only the Source can."

"Understood," Prue said, her tone firm as she signaled to her sisters and Buffy to move away. They began to shed their coats, preparing for the fight ahead, their faces reflecting the gravity of the situation they were about to face.

"Hey, you know that bad feeling I was talking about? It's getting stronger," Piper said, her voice tinged with unease as she adjusted her stance, the foreboding sense of danger growing more palpable by the second.

"Alright, you need to stay here and keep Tom frozen, okay?" Prue instructed, her gaze shifting to Piper with a mixture of concern and determination. The responsibility of holding Tom in stasis was now crucial to their plan.

"I hate this crappy freezing power!" Piper grumbled, her frustration evident as she grappled with the limitations of her ability in their current dire situation. The burden of maintaining the freeze was taking its toll.

"Okay, your powers have a limited effect down here," Buffy interjected, her voice carrying a practical note of urgency. "So, it has to be Phoebe and me who go into the ring." Her tone conveyed a sense of urgency and strategic planning, outlining the necessity of their chosen approach.

"Why you and Phoebe?" Prue asked, her brow furrowing as she sought clarification on the rationale behind the plan.

"Because you are better suited to protect Piper than Phoebe," Buffy explained, her reasoning clear and logical. "She's right, Prue," Phoebe added, her voice supportive and earnest. "I know martial arts, so I can fight hand to hand with the demons. But you and Piper are the only ones, besides Buffy, who have active powers. And Buffy stands a good chance against the demons due to the abilities her Slayer side gives her." Phoebe's words underscored the practicality of their strategy, emphasizing their combined strengths and the necessity of their roles in the upcoming battle.

"By the way, since you're witches and of course since Nyxara is an upper level demon, I think it's only fair that I even the playing field," Kellman announced, his voice dripping with malicious glee. As he spoke, the atmosphere seemed to grow heavier with anticipation. From the shadows, two very large wrestlers emerged, their massive forms cutting imposing silhouettes against the dim lighting of the arena.

"You look at this face!" one of the wrestlers roared, his voice booming with an almost theatrical menace. "This is the face of pain and I'm the bringer of pain! And I'm gonna destroy you! You can cry for mercy but I don't know the meaning of the word!" His words echoed through the room, punctuated by the pounding of his fists against his chest, a dramatic display of bravado.

"Alright, and people think this is entertainment," Prue remarked with a roll of her eyes, her expression one of thinly veiled contempt. The spectacle before her felt more like a grotesque farce than an actual challenge.

"Yeah, in my hundred and seventeen years of life, wrestling is one sport I never understood," Buffy agreed, her tone a mix of disbelief and amusement. She and Phoebe exchanged a look of steely determination before stepping over to the ring, the weight of their task sinking in. Their movements were precise and purposeful as they climbed into the ring, readying themselves for the confrontation ahead.

"Alright, I am going to win this fight and save your ass, so that you can rewrite your lost and found spell to find Cole specifically," Buffy declared, her voice ringing with resolve. Her gaze met Phoebe's, a silent promise of commitment and action.

"Oh boy, oh boy," Piper said, her voice tinged with anxiety as she and Prue stood at the edge of the ring, their eyes fixed on the unfolding drama. The intensity of the moment seemed to heighten her sense of urgency.

"Couldn't agree more," Prue responded, her tone matching Piper's concern. The stakes were high, and the gravity of their situation was evident in their determined expressions.

With a swift, practiced motion, Buffy leaped into action. She jumped up and spun into a roundhouse kick, her foot connecting with both wrestlers' heads in a powerful display of skill. The impact of her attack was immediate and impressive, sending the wrestlers staggering backward.

"Wow," Phoebe said, her eyes widening as she joined the fray. The sight of Buffy's precise and effective combat moved her to action, her own movements quick and decisive as she engaged with their formidable opponents.

"Okay, oh god, oh god, come on, do something! Get angry! Focus! Get motivated!" Piper shouted from the sidelines, her voice a blend of encouragement and frustration. She was desperate for a breakthrough, urging her friends to channel their energy and focus in the face of overwhelming odds.

Kellman, his eyes gleaming with malice, maneuvered behind Prue and Piper with silent precision. From the shadows, he conjured two sharp, menacing orbs that hovered ominously in the air. Unseen by either sister, the orbs streaked forward with deadly accuracy, their edges glinting with a sinister glow. They speared through the air and struck their targets with brutal force, driving both Prue and Piper to the floor. The sudden attack was followed by a sharp jolt as the magic that had been holding everything frozen abruptly ceased.

"Piper! Prue!" Phoebe's voice pierced through the chaos, her cry of alarm resonating with raw desperation. Her eyes widened in horror as she saw her sisters incapacitated, their bodies sprawled helplessly on the ground.

"Called your bluff," Kellman taunted with a satisfied smirk, his gaze fixed on Buffy. His words dripped with cruel amusement as he watched the wrestlers continue to pummel Buffy and Phoebe with relentless ferocity. Kellman's expression shifted to one of cold satisfaction as he turned to Tom. "Let's go see how mum's doing, shall we? Slammer. Yeah, baby." With that, he and Tom turned sharply and headed toward the elevator, their footsteps echoing ominously in the room.

Meanwhile, one of the wrestlers had pinned Phoebe to the mat with overwhelming force. The wrestler's weight pressed down on her, making it difficult for her to move. A gaping hole began to open beneath them, revealing a swirling abyss of flames. Phoebe's voice rose in a panicked cry, "No! Aah, Buffy!"

Buffy, her muscles coiled with determination, delivered a powerful kick to both wrestlers, her foot connecting with precision. The impact sent them reeling backward, momentarily disoriented. Buffy quickly moved to Phoebe's side, helping her up with a sense of urgency.

"Thank you," Phoebe said, her voice filled with relief as she stood up. Her gratitude was palpable, but there was no time to dwell on it.

"Alright, we have to save Piper and Prue," Buffy said firmly, her eyes scanning the chaotic scene. The stakes were high, and the urgency of the situation was clear.

"How do we do that?" Phoebe asked, her brows furrowed with concern as she glanced at the incapacitated figures of her sisters.

"Your guys' powers may have been diminished down here," Buffy said, her voice resolute, "but mine aren't." She held out her hand, and a swirling energy ball began to form, crackling with potent energy. With a decisive movement, Buffy hurled the energy ball toward one of the wrestlers. The orb collided with the wrestler, engulfing him in a burst of blinding light that disintegrated him into nothingness.

As the first wrestler vanished, Phoebe took the opportunity to kick the remaining wrestler with a swift, precise motion. He stumbled and fell to the mat, his strength faltering. Without missing a beat, Phoebe leapt onto him, pinning him down with a fierce determination.

The hole continued to widen, the flames growing more intense. "Alright, 1, 2, 3," Phoebe counted, her voice steady as she prepared to act. With a synchronized effort, Phoebe moved out of the way, and the wrestler, still struggling beneath her, fell into the expanding hole. The void swallowed him up with a final, menacing roar.

Buffy and Phoebe dashed over to Piper and Prue, their expressions set with resolve.

Buffy's eyes burned with fierce determination as she faced the retreating demons. Her hand crackled with a glowing energy ball, a potent symbol of her resolve. "Anyone else want a piece of this?" she challenged, her voice laced with defiance. The demons, recognizing the lethal threat in her gaze and the power in her hand, turned and fled in terror, their footsteps echoing with haste.

As the last of the demons disappeared from sight, Phoebe's voice broke through the tension, filled with anxiety. "Buffy, it looks really bad," she said, her eyes wide with concern. "I don't know if we're gonna make it to Leo."

"Yes, we will," Buffy reassured her, her voice steady despite the urgency of their situation. She gently touched Prue and Piper's shoulders, her touch conveying both strength and comfort. "Hold on to me," she instructed Phoebe. With Phoebe's hand on her shoulder, Buffy shimmered out, taking her sisters with her.

In a blink, they materialized in Kellman's office, the familiar surroundings of the room stark against the backdrop of their crisis. To their relief, Leo was there, rummaging through Kellman's belongings, his Whitelighter instincts evidently at work.

"Leo!" Phoebe exclaimed, her voice a mixture of relief and desperation as she looked up at the Whitelighter.

"What happened?" Leo asked, his expression shifting from curiosity to alarm as he took in the scene before him.

"Hurry," Buffy urged, her voice urgent and filled with worry. "They've stopped breathing."

Leo immediately sprang into action. He moved with practiced efficiency, swiftly pulling the sharp, cruel orbs out of Piper and Prue. His hands were steady as he placed them over their unconscious forms, his healing powers beginning to glow with a soft, reassuring light. "It's working," Leo said with a note of optimism, his focus unwavering as he concentrated on mending their injuries.

As the healing energy enveloped Piper and Prue, Phoebe's relief was palpable, though she still carried a note of confusion. "Okay, not that I'm not thrilled to see you, but what are you doing here, Leo?" she asked, her tone reflecting her curiosity and the chaotic turn of events.

"I was looking for you. I thought I'd start with Kellman," Leo said, his voice carrying a sense of urgency as he adjusted his focus from the recovering sisters to the task at hand.

"He's the demon in charge of the academy," Buffy confirmed, her tone steady despite the gravity of their situation.

"I figured," Leo replied, nodding in understanding. "The Elders believe that turning one of his recruits against him might be the key to destroying him once and for all."

"So first we have to figure out a way to save Tom," Phoebe said, her gaze turning resolute.

"Phoebe, can you call your cop friend and have him get Tom's mom to the Manor?" Buffy asked, her eyes locking with Phoebe's in a determined stare. "Then lure Tom there so that we can try and save him."

"Wait, you want them in the same house?" Phoebe questioned, her concern evident.

"Yeah, she's gotta be the key to saving him," Buffy explained, her voice firm. "Otherwise, why would Kellman want Tom to kill her?"

"Okay, well, maybe I could figure out a way to tweak the lost and found spell again, lure him to the house. After all, Tom's a lost soul, right?" Phoebe suggested, her mind already racing through possibilities.

Buffy gave a nod of approval before turning to Leo. "Are they going to be okay?"

"Yeah, go. I'll take care of Piper and Prue," Leo assured her, his voice imbued with confidence and reassurance.

"You sure?" Phoebe asked, her worry still palpable as she glanced at the Whitelighter.

"Yeah," Leo affirmed, watching with a steady gaze as Phoebe took Buffy's hand. With a shimmer of light, the two women vanished from the office, leaving Leo behind to tend to Piper and Prue.

Halliwell Manor

Rasputin, the white dog, was perched on the edge of the couch, his ears perked and his eyes wide with alarm. His barking cut through the tension of the room, each sharp yip punctuating the eerie noises that seemed to emanate from every corner of the house. The strange, unsettling sounds seemed to echo off the walls, their origin as mysterious as the shadows that danced in the dim light.

Mrs. Peters, her face etched with confusion and worry, looked around in dismay as she and Darryl entered the room. "What was that? What are those noises?" she asked, her voice trembling with anxiety.

Darryl glanced around, his brow furrowed in concern. "I'm not quite sure," he admitted, his eyes scanning the room for any clues. The strange occurrences were beginning to fray his nerves, and he was struggling to make sense of the unsettling situation.

Just then, Buffy and Phoebe emerged from the conservatory, their presence offering a semblance of clarity amidst the chaos. Buffy's expression was one of focused determination as she approached Mrs. Peters. "Thanks for coming, Mrs. Peters," she said, her tone both reassuring and urgent.

"But I don't understand," Mrs. Peters said, her confusion deepening as she looked from Buffy to the chaos around them.

"You will soon," Buffy replied, her gaze shifting to Darryl. "Any sign of Kellman?"

"No, but there are plenty of other signs," Darryl said, his voice tinged with frustration as he continued to survey the scene. The air was thick with a sense of impending doom, and the strange noises seemed to be growing louder and more menacing.

"Uh-oh, seems like some lost souls were found," Phoebe said, her voice tinged with worry as she noticed the effects of the spell manifesting around them. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for any signs of the spell's impact.

"Yeah, you need to reverse this spell quick," Buffy said, her gaze fixed on Phoebe with a sense of urgency. The situation was rapidly escalating, and they needed to act fast to prevent further complications.

Mrs. Peters' eyes widened in alarm as she spotted her son, Tom, entering the room with Kellman. Her voice broke with a cry of distress. "Tom!"

Darryl acted swiftly, stepping in front of Mrs. Peters to prevent her from rushing towards her son. "No!" he said firmly, his voice filled with concern and authority.

"How did you..." Kellman began, his voice seething with rage as he glared at Buffy. The fury in his eyes was palpable, a dark storm brewing in the depths of his gaze.

"'Cause we're not done with you yet," Buffy said, her voice steady and defiant. The determination in her stance was unmistakable, an unyielding resolve that seemed to cut through the oppressive tension in the room.

"I told you it was too late to save Tom. But thank you for leading us to the victim," Kellman sneered, his malevolence clear. "Kill her, Tom," he commanded, his voice dripping with malice.

Without hesitation, Tom launched a fireball toward his mother, Mrs. Peters. The fiery sphere streaked through the air with deadly intent. But before it could reach its target, Darryl sprang into action, pushing Mrs. Peters out of the way. The fireball struck the wall instead, leaving a scorching mark where it hit.

Seizing the moment, Buffy hurled an energy ball at Kellman. The blast struck him with enough force to send him sprawling away from Tom, creating a temporary reprieve from his sinister commands. "Tom, listen to me," Buffy shouted, her voice urgent and filled with compassion. "Look at your mother. Remember what it felt like to be human. Remember what it feels like to be loved."

In response to the escalating chaos, Kellman conjured a sharp ball, its edges gleaming menacingly, and made it hover dangerously close to Mrs. Peters' neck. The threat was clear, and the air was thick with the weight of imminent danger.

"Buffy, we're about to have other problems from other worlds," Phoebe warned, her voice tense as she pointed out the swirling lost souls that had begun to fill the room, their ethereal forms fluttering and circling with a restless energy.

"Tom?" Mrs. Peters cried out, her voice trembling with fear and desperation. "Help me!"

"Kill her, damn it!" Kellman's command was filled with frustration, his anger evident as he struggled to maintain control over Tom.

Tom, standing frozen, moved hesitantly toward the sharp ball. With a deep breath, he made a crucial decision. He seized the ball and, after a moment of internal conflict, hurled it at Kellman with a surge of determination. The ball struck its target, and the lost souls, sensing a shift in power, began to swarm around Kellman in a chaotic dance of spectral energy.

"What the hell is happening?" Phoebe exclaimed, her eyes wide with shock as she observed the swirling, restless spirits converging on Kellman.

"I think there are some lost souls welcoming a new friend," Buffy said, her voice grim but resolute. "Get rid of them."

Phoebe nodded and began to chant, her words flowing with purpose. "I return what I didn't want to find, let it be out of sight, out of mind." The chant resonated through the room; a powerful incantation aimed at dispelling the chaos.

As Phoebe's spell took effect, Kellman was vanquished in a burst of energy, and the lost souls vanished simultaneously. Tom's chevrons, the marks of his demonic status, also disappeared, signifying the end of his torment.

"Mom. Mom, I'm so sorry," Tom said, his voice breaking as he rushed to embrace his mother, the weight of his actions and regrets heavy in his tone.

"Oh! Oh, Tommy! It's alright. Everything's alright," Mrs. Peters soothed, her voice filled with relief and maternal love as she hugged her son tightly. The room, now quieter and more peaceful, bore witness to their reunion, a poignant reminder of the power of forgiveness and redemption.