Charmed: Another Halliwell

by Brenna's Urbangirl Projects

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

85. Chapter 85: Brain Drain Part 1

Chapter 85: Brain Drain Part 1

November 6, 1999 – Saturday

Halliwell Manor

"Damn it!" Piper cursed, her frustration spilling out as she stared into the open oven, the burnt scent of cookies hanging thick in the air. She was greeted by the sight of her latest batch—charred and ruined. "These ones are burnt too!" she groaned, her tone laced with both exasperation and self-doubt. With a resigned sigh, she reached into the oven, her hands encased in oven mitts, and yanked out the tray. It was heavy, the once hopeful batch now nothing but crispy black remnants. She tossed it onto the counter with a clatter, right next to her perfectly golden cookies and the other half-baked failure that had cooled into something less than ideal.

"I'm losing my touch," she muttered, staring mournfully at the burned edges of her once-beautiful homemade treats, her face a portrait of regret.

Phoebe, who had been standing nearby, shook her head vigorously in disbelief, her warm smile never wavering. "Oh, no, it's okay sweetie," she reassured her sister, her voice soft and comforting as she gently closed the oven door, preventing it from slamming in frustration. "They're just a little crisp."

Piper's eyes narrowed slightly as she turned her gaze back to the oven, still clearly upset. "A little crisp? They're charred, Phoebe," she said flatly, running a hand through her hair in frustration.

"Hey, it's okay," Phoebe continued, her tone light and teasing. "I mean, personally, I am glad you're not a chef anymore." She couldn't resist the smirk that tugged at her lips as she caught Piper's confused look. "I'd probably be three hundred pounds by now."

Piper blinked, clearly caught off guard by Phoebe's offhanded remark. The sudden shift in focus pulled her attention from the burnt cookies. "Who's three hundred pounds?" came a voice from the doorway, and they all turned to see Buffy entering the kitchen, a small smile already tugging at her lips as she took in the scene.

"Me," Phoebe answered simply, her tone dry as she caught Buffy's questioning gaze. Buffy took in Phoebe's slight figure, giving her a once-over before frowning as she poured herself a cup of coffee, walking over to the other side of the island to face her sisters.

Phoebe chuckled, clearly entertained by the banter. "Well, I would be if Piper was still a chef." She shrugged dramatically, and Buffy couldn't help but agree with a mischievous grin. "Oh yeah. Me too," Buffy chimed in, her tone amused as she took a sip of her coffee. She looked over at Piper, who was now staring intently at her baked goods, her mind seemingly elsewhere.

"Maybe I should make another batch," Piper said, her voice far more to herself than anyone else, the rumble of self-doubt in her words palpable as she contemplated another round of baking failure.

Phoebe's lips curled into a smile as she took a step closer to her sister, her voice teasing yet affectionate. "Um… Piper?" she called, waiting for Piper to acknowledge her, which she did with a small tilt of her head. "Remember when you told me to tell you when you're obsessing?" Phoebe asked, barely able to suppress her amusement as she watched Piper's tension rise.

"I'm not obsessing!" Piper snapped, dropping her spatula and turning to face her sister sharply, her eyes flashing with defensiveness. Her tone was immediate, almost too immediate, and Buffy snorted softly into her coffee mug, catching a glimpse of Piper's scowl. "I just want everything to be perfect, that's all." She crossed her arms, clearly annoyed but unwilling to back down.

Buffy raised an eyebrow, her voice a playful smirk. "Yeah, but Piper… it's a baby shower, not a royal wedding." She couldn't help but poke fun, the corner of her mouth turning upward as she saw Piper's scowl deepen.

"Ha. Ha." Piper stuck out her tongue in response, her mood lightening slightly but not entirely. Phoebe moved around the island and placed herself at Piper's side, catching her sister's attention again.

"Besides, don't you think you're doing enough already?" Buffy asked, her voice softening as she stepped closer, eyeing Piper with a mix of concern and frustration. "For goddess' sake, you're hosting it, and you're not even close to Wendy anymore."

Piper sighed deeply, rubbing her temples. "That is precisely why I am doing all of this," she said with a heaviness in her voice that only her sisters could truly hear. "I swear to god, in the last couple of years, we've vanquished more friendships than we have demons," she added with a trace of resignation, her shoulders slumping under the weight of her thoughts.

Buffy nodded once; her tone gentle but firm as she walked over to the fridge. She opened the door, pulling out the milk carton—or at least, what was left of it. She shook it with a frustrated grunt, watching the empty carton make a hollow sound. "Oh, come on," she muttered under her breath, holding the carton up like a broken promise. "Got milk?" she asked dramatically, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she shot a glance at Piper.

Piper sighed; eyes closed in defeat. "Somebody forgot to put it on the list again," she huffed, the words leaving her lips like the last straw.

Phoebe, ever the voice of reason, crossed her arms and looked at them both with a calm smile. "Okay, well we have to be patient." Her voice was steady, calm in the face of Piper's frustrations. "You know, it's gonna take Paige more than a week to adjust to living here."

Buffy nodded in agreement, her reassuring tone slipping out with ease. "Phoebe's right. We had our share of ups and downs when I moved in, remember? Or did you forget the very first apocalypse we thwarted together? You know, that thing called the Harvest?" She chuckled softly at the memory of those chaotic days.

Piper's expression softened a little, but her frustration still lingered. "Yes, but still. There are common courtesies, common sense… Rules," she concluded with a frown, staring down at the mess that was now her kitchen, her cookies, and her emotional state.

Phoebe nodded, her lips curling into a sly smile. "Yeah… but you gotta admit, it's nice having the Power of Four under one roof," she said brightly, her voice laced with enthusiasm. The optimism radiated off her in waves, but her two older sisters weren't as easily convinced. They forced tight smiles, clearly still adjusting to the new dynamic in their lives.

Buffy gave a small nod, taking Phoebe's side. "Pheebs is right, Piper," she said, her voice casual but firm, as if reinforcing the idea would somehow make it feel more natural.

"Riiiight," Piper sneered, her skepticism dripping from the single drawn-out word. She waved a hand toward the kitchen counter, where neatly arranged homemade gift baskets sat waiting. "Grab those," she instructed, her tone making it clear there was no room for debate.

Buffy, always the team player, abandoned her coffee mug in the sink with a soft clink before lifting one of the carefully crafted baskets into her arms. The weight wasn't much, but the effort that had gone into them was obvious—Piper had clearly put her heart into this.

Phoebe grinned widely, lifting hers and murmuring to herself, "So cute," as she admired the presentation. Her mind, however, wasn't entirely on the baskets. As she followed behind her sisters out of the kitchen, she took the opportunity to drop a pointed hint, her voice laced with mischief. "Aunt Phoebe sure would love to throw one of these for you someday." The sing-song quality in her voice was unmistakable.

Buffy's eyebrows shot up so fast they nearly disappeared into her hairline. "And exactly who are you directing that comment at, Phoebe?" she asked, her tone suspicious, eyes narrowing as she turned slightly toward her sister.

Before Phoebe could answer, a sudden yelp echoed through the house.

"AH!" Piper cried out as her foot caught on one of Paige's wooden fold-away chairs, which had been haphazardly left in the walkway. She stumbled, barely managing to keep hold of her precious last tray of unburnt cookies. "Damn it! PAIGE!" she bellowed up the stairs, her tone a mix of frustration and warning.

Buffy winced but kept walking. "You okay?" she asked, glancing at Piper, who nodded curtly, adjusting her grip on the tray as they continued toward the living room.

Behind them, Phoebe stomped after her sisters, a dramatic frown settling on her face. "Hey! You two are avoiding!" she accused, jabbing a finger in their direction. "Don't."

"No, I'm not!" Buffy quipped quickly, ever the fast talker. "I responded, didn't I?" she added with a smug smirk.

Phoebe slowed her steps, considering for a moment before narrowing her eyes. "Right… but Piper's avoiding." She turned to Buffy with a knowing grin. "And to answer your question, Buffy, it was directed at both of you."

Buffy groaned, rolling her eyes as she adjusted the basket in her arms. Piper, however, was far less subtle in her disdain for the conversation. "I'm not avoiding," she countered, her voice dry as she shot Phoebe a look. "I'm ignoring you."

Buffy chuckled, unable to hold it in.

Phoebe scowled but wasn't about to let it go. "Well, you can't ignore that beautiful little girl of yours that we saw in the future," she pressed, eyes locking onto Piper as they stepped into the living room. The atmosphere was warm and familiar, the furniture well-worn but cozy. They made their way toward the T.V. room, placing the gifts and food on the table. Phoebe wasn't done yet. "And if my math is right…" She paused for dramatic effect, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. "Then you and Leo better start, you know, right about now." She nudged Piper's arm playfully, her eyebrows wiggling suggestively.

"Phoebe." Buffy scolded with a frown, shooting her sister a warning glare. "Stay out of her sex life unless you're invited in."

Silence.

Then, as the weight of her words fully hit her, Buffy froze, her face twisting in horror.

The room was quiet for half a beat too long before simultaneously, Buffy, Phoebe, and Piper all shuddered.

"Okay, uh…" Buffy grimaced, clearly repulsed. "I just heard how that sounded out loud, and… well… ew."

Phoebe scrunched up her face. "Yeah. Big ew," she muttered.

Piper made a disgusted noise, shaking her head as if trying to physically dislodge the mental image from her brain. "Anyway." She forcibly dragged the conversation back on track. "We saw a lot of things in that future that are gonna be different now. Like, uh… you won't be getting burned at the stake," she pointed out, her voice firm. "Leo and I will not be divorced." She practically dared the universe to challenge her on that one. "And there's also the new addition that is Paige Matthews," she added, glancing upward toward the ceiling, as if Paige might somehow sense the mention of her name.

Buffy followed her gaze instinctively, nodding. Paige was a game-changer. A wild card in a timeline they had barely begun to unravel.

Phoebe, however, wasn't done. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean you can't have kids!" she shot back, her hands landing firmly on her hips, her determined expression unwavering. She softened her voice slightly, switching tactics. "Don't you want little kids?" she asked, letting out her signature baby voice, her lower lip jutting out in a mock pout.

"I don't," Buffy stated matter-of-factly. Her arms folded across her chest as she gave a small shake of her head, unapologetic.

Phoebe blinked, clearly caught off guard. "What?" she said, staring at Buffy as if she had just spoken in tongues.

"Not with demons dropping in all the time," Piper interjected at the same moment, throwing out her arm in exasperation, as though the answer should have been obvious. She turned back to Buffy, realization dawning on her face. "Wait, what?" she asked, her frown deepening as she processed Buffy's answer, her shock evident.

Buffy barely had time to open her mouth before a ripple of energy distorted the air, and in an instant, Cole shimmered into existence, standing exactly where Piper had previously gestured. His sudden arrival did little to shift the tension already crackling through the room like static before a storm.

"Phoebe?" Cole called, his voice urgent, but she held up a hand without sparing him a glance, silencing him with a quick flick of her wrist.

"Hold that thought," Phoebe instructed, her tone making it clear she wasn't about to be derailed from the conversation at hand. Her sharp gaze darted between her two sisters, her expression a mix of frustration and disbelief. Finally, she settled on Piper and pointed a finger at her. "Okay, you," she started, her voice carrying the weight of conviction. "Generations of Halliwells have fought demons and had kids. It didn't stop them. Why should it stop you?" Disappointment seeped into her voice, her brows drawing together as she stared at her older sister.

Piper folded her arms tightly across her chest, her expression cooling into something sharp and unyielding. She arched an eyebrow, the corners of her lips twitching into a humorless smile. "Did it ever occur to you…" she began with forced cheer, her voice dripping with sarcasm, "...that maybe this is none of your business?" She leaned forward as she delivered the pointed remark, her patience wearing dangerously thin.

Phoebe waved her hand dismissively, as if batting away Piper's irritation like an annoying fly. "Oh, that is beside the point," she replied, entirely unbothered by the hostility in the air.

"Phoebe," Cole interjected again, his voice taking on a sharper edge, but Phoebe ignored him completely, eyes locked in on Buffy now.

"And you," she pivoted quickly, rounding on her youngest sister with a mix of exasperation and genuine curiosity. "Where the hell is this coming from?" she demanded, her voice almost matching Cole's urgency. "Did you just, I don't know, wake up one morning and decide to never have kids?" The incredulity in her tone was impossible to miss.

Buffy sighed and rolled her eyes, clearly unamused by the inquisition. "No. For your information, I made this decision a while ago."

Phoebe narrowed her eyes, her skepticism evident. "Oh really?" she challenged.

Buffy's expression hardened, her features smoothing into a mask of detached certainty. "After the first time I died," she stated blankly, her voice stripped of emotion.

Phoebe faltered. The weight of Buffy's words landed hard, sucking some of the fire out of the conversation.

"This life, our world, it's far too dangerous for a child," Buffy continued, her voice slow and measured, as if speaking to someone who couldn't quite grasp the gravity of her reasoning. "I am not comfortable raising children in this environment. I won't do it. The risk is far too great, and I'm not just talking about injury or shortened life expectancy for the child itself." Her jaw tightened, her fingers gripping her arms as she folded them across her chest. "The risk of losing a parent in our family is almost a guarantee," she pointed out, her tone carrying the weight of experience. "Just look at both my mom and Aunt Patty. They died, leaving all of us alone. That's enough of a reason for me."

Cole tried again, louder this time. "Phoebe."

Still, he was ignored. The conversation had too much momentum to be interrupted now.

"Buffy's got a point, Phoebe," Piper chimed in, her voice quieter, but no less firm. She glanced down, exhaling deeply before adding, "I couldn't bear the thought of my own child having to grow up without me." There was an unspoken fear in her voice, something she rarely admitted aloud—the possibility that one day, she wouldn't be there for the people she loved.

Phoebe sighed, shaking her head adamantly, refusing to accept what she was hearing. "But… I—we… just—no!" she burst out, frustration bubbling over. "It's different for us. We're the Charmed Ones, for god's sake! That's got to make a difference in the death department!" she insisted, her voice laced with stubborn defiance.

Piper appeared to consider the argument for a brief moment, but Buffy didn't hesitate. She shook her head sharply, her response immediate and unyielding. "No. No, it doesn't," she countered, her voice steely with conviction. "Prue proved that with Shax."

The name alone sent a ripple through the room, a cold reminder of just how fragile their reality was.

Buffy locked eyes with Phoebe, unwavering. "He got her. She lost."

Phoebe let out a slow breath, her resolve shaken.

She tried to pivot. "How does Leo feel about this?" she asked, directing the question at Piper now.

Piper hesitated for half a second before shaking her head. "I haven't talked to Leo about this yet," she admitted, her tone far too casual for the gravity of the discussion.

Phoebe gawked at her in outright disbelief, her frustration boiling over. "Oh my god!" she cried, pressing a dramatic hand to her forehead as if she were personally suffering from the weight of Piper's confession. "Okay, I really think we should talk to him about this," she declared in all seriousness, her wide eyes making it clear that, in her mind, this was an emergency-level discussion.

Piper's jaw dropped. "We?" she echoed, her tone a dangerous mix of outrage and disbelief.

Phoebe opened her mouth to fire back, frustration ready to spill over, but the sharp, piercing sound of Cole's whistle sliced through the room like a blade.

Piper jumped in place, her body instinctively recoiling from the noise, her shoulders hunched in defense as if it had physically struck her.

Buffy tensed, every muscle in her body locking up at the unexpected shrillness. She let out a sharp breath, cringing hard, her face twisting in discomfort as she snapped her eyes shut, trying to block out the sudden auditory assault.

Phoebe grimaced, pressing a finger against her ear as she turned, unimpressed, to her boyfriend. "Yes, Cole, what is it?" she asked, her voice strained with forced calm.

Cole's gaze zeroed in on Piper, his usual smooth demeanor replaced with urgency. "Okay. Freeze the room fast, then unfreeze only me," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Buffy's frown deepened, confusion knitting her brows together. "What? Why?" she questioned, her sharp eyes flickering between her sisters as they mirrored her puzzled expression.

Cole inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring as he struggled to tamp down his impatience. "Just…" He closed his eyes briefly, visibly reigning in his temper before finishing, "...do what I say, and I'll explain after," he promised, his voice gritted but controlled.

Piper let out an exaggerated sigh, her irritation plain as day, but she lifted her hands and flicked her wrists, instantly freezing the entire room.

Phoebe turned quickly toward her sister, anticipation flashing across her face. "Oh, please don't blow him up," she pleaded, her voice light but edged with genuine concern.

Piper rolled her eyes, her lips curving into an exasperated smirk. "I'll try," she muttered dryly before lifting her hand with a lazy flick, focusing her power. A heartbeat later, Cole unfroze, still intact.

His body snapped into motion immediately, eyes darting across the still-frozen space, his stance rigid with alertness. "The rest of the room still frozen?" he asked sharply, his gaze sweeping across the Manor's interior.

Piper shot him a deadpan look, throwing up her arms in frustration. "Cole!" she snapped, "We're the only ones in the room!" She gestured around, emphasizing the obvious emptiness.

Cole, however, ignored her exasperation, his expression set in grim determination as he began moving, methodically grabbing at random pieces of furniture—a chair, a vase, the edge of a couch cushion—his movements precise and deliberate.

Piper's frown deepened as she watched him with increasing confusion. Buffy took a slow, cautious step forward, her arms instinctively tensing. "A lizard?" she asked, her tone skeptical. "You're worried about a lizard?" She glanced at her sisters as if to check whether she'd heard him correctly.

Cole didn't pause, shaking his head quickly. "This chameleon's a demon," he corrected, his focus never wavering as he continued touching different objects, his hands ghosting over surfaces with practiced precision. "One who can transform into any object, just to spy on you."

Piper let out a short, disbelieving laugh, crossing her arms over her chest. "You—you trying to tell me the Manor is… supernaturally bugged?" she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

Cole didn't even look up, still scouring the room with careful attention. "Uh-huh," he replied without hesitation. "Has been for some time, apparently."

Piper's amused smirk vanished instantly. Her eyes widened as realization set in. "Oh my god, you're serious!" she cried, her voice pitching up in alarm. She turned swiftly toward Buffy, half-laughing, half-panicked. "Oh my god, he's serious!" she repeated, as if saying it out loud would make it easier to process.

Buffy didn't react with shock—instead, her expression turned cold and calculating. She kept her gaze locked on Cole, piecing things together. "Explains why the Source hasn't attacked in a while," she muttered, her voice steady but heavy with realization.

Cole finally looked up, nodding once, his features grim. "He's had his chameleons watching your every move," he confirmed, his voice edged with certainty. "Gathering inside information."

Phoebe instinctively latched onto Piper's hand, her fingers squeezing tight. "That's creepy," she whispered, her voice barely audible as her eyes darted warily around the room, scanning each object with new suspicion.

Cole's sharp gaze remained locked on his surroundings, his stance tense, coiled, ready to strike. "Look around," he instructed, his voice low but urgent. "What's not supposed to be here?"

The sisters obeyed, their eyes sweeping over the furniture, decorations, and every familiar detail of the room.

Piper's lips slowly curled into a knowing smirk as her gaze landed on an exceptionally hideous red-patterned wooden chair—a piece that stuck out like a sore thumb. Buffy, sensing her sister's amusement, shifted her gaze to Phoebe, who was now staring at the same chair, her eyes widening as realization struck.

She barely had time to react before she smacked Buffy's arm in alarm. "Buffy! Stop her!" Phoebe cried out, panic lacing her voice.

Buffy chuckled, shaking her head in deliberate defiance. "No way in hell. That is one ugly-ass chair," she replied, her face contorted in mock disgust.

Piper's smirk deepened, her fingers flexing with anticipation before she thrust her hands forward, flicking her wrists. A powerful explosion rocketed through the room, obliterating the chair into a cloud of splinters and dust.

Cole approached the smoldering remnants cautiously, his expression unreadable.

Piper, meanwhile, clamped her lips together, visibly struggling not to burst into laughter. Beside her, Buffy's shoulders shook with silent amusement, her face half-hidden behind her hand.

Phoebe, however, was not amused. Her arms crossed tightly over her chest as she glared daggers at them both. "That was Paige's chair, Piper!" she scolded, her voice tinged with exasperation.

Piper merely nodded, completely unfazed. "I know," she answered cheerfully, her grin refusing to fade. "It was ugly."

"Told you," Buffy muttered toward Phoebe with a knowing smirk.

Phoebe's eyes narrowed dangerously before she reached over and pinched Buffy's thigh—hard.

"Ow!" Buffy yelped, jerking away as she shot Phoebe a glare.

Phoebe simply smirked in satisfaction, while Buffy rolled her eyes, rubbing her leg. "That was wrong of you," Buffy remarked casually to Piper, though there was little real reprimand in her tone.

A deep, resonating chime suddenly filled the room.

"The freeze just wore off," Cole announced loudly, his entire body going rigid with renewed alertness.

Phoebe's hand tightened around Piper's arm as her eyes locked onto a new object in the room—one that hadn't been there before. She pointed. "Where did that lamp come from?" she asked slowly, her voice now hushed with tension.

Buffy and Piper's heads snapped toward the object in question, their expressions instantly hardening.

The three sisters stood frozen in silent dread; eyes fixed on the seemingly harmless lamp as an unnatural ripple shimmered across its surface. Then, right before their eyes, the lamp twisted and contorted, morphing in a sickening display of shifting matter. In mere seconds, it had transformed into a tall, grey-haired man dressed in black, his eerie, expressionless face revealing nothing.

The three sisters shrieked in unison, instinctively jerking back several steps.

Phoebe's first instinct was to grab Piper, yanking her in front of her like a makeshift shield.

Piper, in turn, immediately shoved Buffy forward, using her younger sister as her own layer of protection.

Buffy, now standing front and center, completely exposed, turned her head slowly toward her sisters, her expression a mixture of disbelief and growing irritation. "Oh yeah, that's right," she deadpanned, eyes narrowing. "Use me as the human shield. It's fine!"

The demon thrust out his arm with a sharp flick, and an unseen force slammed into the sisters like a wrecking ball, sending them hurtling backward. They crashed over the couch, limbs flailing, before landing in an undignified heap behind it.

As the sisters groaned and scrambled to right themselves, the Chameleon turned its cold, calculating gaze on Cole.

Cole, however, was more than ready. With a sharp flick of his wrist, an energy ball crackled to life in his palm, its fiery glow casting eerie shadows across his face. With a ferocious snarl, he hurled it straight at the demon, and the moment it connected, an explosion of energy obliterated the Chameleon's entire right arm.

A sickening splatter of green, putrid blood and chunky gunk decorated the beautiful, pink, frilly gift baskets that had been so carefully arranged. The once-charming display was now dripping with supernatural carnage.

The Chameleon staggered back slightly, a sharp hiss escaping its lips. Then, in a grotesque display, its flesh writhed and reformed, a brand-new arm slithering out of the wound as if nothing had happened.

The demon smirked, eyes flashing with mocking amusement.

Behind the couch, the three sisters popped up like startled gophers, their expressions ranging from annoyance to outright fury.

"Cole, get back," Piper ordered through gritted teeth, her body tensing with determination. Without missing a beat, she threw up her hand and flicked her wrist, sending an explosive pulse of magic hurtling toward the Chameleon.

But the demon was faster than expected. It darted to the side with unnatural agility, and the blast soared past him, smashing into the grandfather clock instead. The wood splintered, glass shattered, and the ancient timepiece collapsed in a pitiful heap of destruction.

"Damn it, Piper!" Buffy snapped, whacking her sister's arm with a glare. "We just got that thing fixed!"

Piper huffed, rolling her eyes. "Well, I'm sorry," she shot back as they took off after the Chameleon, who was already fleeing into the foyer. "It's not my fault he ducked! The guy's got good reflexes!"

Cole wasn't about to let the demon get away. He whipped around, conjuring another swirling orb of lethal energy before launching it at the retreating figure.

The Chameleon dove out of the way, and in that precise moment, Paige casually descended the staircase, completely oblivious to the chaos unfolding below.

With her laundry basket tucked under one arm and her earbuds firmly in place, she hummed along to her music, blissfully unaware of the glowing energy projectile hurtling straight toward her.

At the last second, her eyes flickered open, just long enough to register the imminent threat.

With a gasp, she orbed out in a flash of shimmering blue light—her body disappearing just before the energy ball could connect.

Her laundry, however, was not so fortunate.

The impact sent her clothes flying in every direction—socks, shirts, and underwear rained down onto the staircase and the floor below, landing in a chaotic mess of fabric. A lone bra draped itself over the banister, while a pair of jeans landed unceremoniously atop the foyer table.

The Chameleon, now realizing that he was severely outnumbered and outmatched, whipped his head around, scanning for an exit. Without hesitation, he shimmered out, escaping to safety.

Paige reappeared in a swirl of orbs, eyes darting around in confusion. She took in the disaster zone of her laundry, then turned to her sisters, hands on her hips.

"What the hell happened?" she demanded, her tone teetering between irritation and exhaustion.

Piper, still buzzing with adrenaline, threw up her hands in frustration. "The freaking furniture just attacked!" she snapped, as if that explanation made perfect sense.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

"Do you know how long the Chameleon demon was in the house?" Leo asked, his voice edged with concern as he leaned over Phoebe, his hands hovering just above the gash on her forehead. A soft golden light pulsed from his fingertips, its warmth seeping into her skin, knitting the wound closed with a gentle shimmer of magic.

"We don't know, Dad," Buffy replied with a shrug, her arms crossed as she leaned against the arm of the couch. "The lamp has been here for at least three days, maybe more," she concluded, her brows furrowing as she considered the unsettling reality of just how long they had been watched.

Leo finished his work, the last traces of the wound fading away as Phoebe stirred slightly beneath his touch.

"What do you think he wants?" Piper asked from her spot near the fireplace, her arms folded tightly across her chest in a stance that practically radiated tension.

Cole, standing off to the side, resisted the urge to sigh in frustration. "I told you," he said, his voice low and measured. "Gathering information."

Piper's frown deepened. "But for what? For why?" she pressed, her hands flying up as she paced the length of the room, her agitation growing with every step.

"For the Source's next attack," Cole answered truthfully, his dark eyes locked onto Piper's.

"Excuse me?" Paige's voice rang out as she strolled into the living room, holding a jagged piece of what had once been her chair in her hand. Her brows were arched, her lips pressed into a tight line. "Is there any way to claim this kind of damage on our homeowner's insurance policy?" she asked, her voice tinged with a shred of desperate hope.

Piper barely spared her a glance. "Usually not," she replied with a shake of her head.

Paige's face fell. "Usually?" she repeated, her shoulders slumping. "What do you mean, I can expect my furniture to get blown up again?" she asked, her tone hovering somewhere between disbelief and resignation.

Buffy shot her a sympathetic smile. "You should have seen the repair bill for the windows last time. We had to raise the drink prices at the club just to pay for them."

Paige let out an exaggerated sigh and slumped against Buffy, her head resting dramatically on her sister's shoulder.

"Expect the unexpected," Phoebe advised wisely, rubbing her temple as she sat up. "That's rule number one in the Halliwell Manor."

"Wanna learn the rest?" Piper added nonchalantly, a sly glint in her eye.

Buffy quickly shook her head, shooting Piper a strained, almost pleading smile. "Um, maybe now's not the time?" she suggested. "Considering we have to figure out a way to find this demon."

Leo, ever the practical one, glanced at the thick splatters of green goo that still clung to the floor and furniture. "Well, you could try scrying using his blood," he offered.

Piper turned to glare at the offending substance, her nose wrinkling in disgust. "And we've got plenty of that," she muttered. "Although I don't know what good it would do to find him now," she added, finally sinking onto the couch beside Leo. "Whatever he's learned, he's already told the Source."

"Except that he might also know what the Source's plan is," Cole pointed out as he pushed off the wall, his steps measured as he approached the small huddled group. "How he's going to attack. Find him, and we might be able to find that out."

Paige perked up suddenly, a bright grin spreading across her face. "I know!" she said cheerfully. "What about pooling our money into a fund to cover anybody's damage, no matter who's it is?" she suggested, her voice filled with hope.

"Let it go, Paige," Buffy said gently, rubbing her back in comfort as Paige let out another exaggerated sigh. "Besides, the chair wasn't that pretty anyway," she added with a teasing grin.

Paige gasped in mock horror, eyes wide as she lifted the broken chunk of wood and whacked Buffy on the shoulder.

Piper and Phoebe burst into laughter as Buffy retaliated, pushing Paige back playfully.

The room froze at the sharp chime of the doorbell, the unexpected sound slicing through the lingering tension.

Buffy instinctively straightened, her senses on high alert as she moved toward the door with measured steps. Behind her, Piper and Phoebe exchanged a wary glance before following closely, their presence a silent show of solidarity. The sisters came to a halt just before the door, their eyes meeting in unspoken agreement. With a swift motion, Buffy yanked it open, bracing herself for whatever might be waiting on the other side.

"Whoa! Scared me," a tall blonde woman gasped, spinning around to face them, her wide eyes flashing with brief surprise before settling into recognition. A bright smile quickly replaced her startled expression. "Hey Payson, Phoebe," she greeted warmly, her voice light and familiar. "It's been a long time."

Buffy tilted her head slightly, her brain scrambling to place the woman's face. There was a vague familiarity to her, but the name remained stubbornly out of reach. Still, she nodded slowly, keeping her expression neutral. "Yes, it has," she agreed, hoping to cover for her lapse in memory.

The woman turned to Piper and Buffy with an easy familiarity. "Hey," she said. "Sorry I'm late. We should go."

"Go?" Piper echoed, her brows pulling together in confusion.

"To the shower," the woman clarified, flashing a knowing smile as if that single phrase should explain everything.

Piper turned slightly, catching her sisters' expressions. Buffy merely raised an amused brow, while Phoebe was already shaking her head in a firm, silent no.

The woman frowned slightly, sensing the hesitation. "Wasn't I supposed to pick you up?" she asked, flipping open a small day planner and scanning its pages. "Did I mess up?"

Piper quickly reached out, gently pressing the woman's arm to halt her frantic search. "No. No, you didn't, Becca," she reassured her, her voice laced with forced casualness. "Yeah, there's just some… stuff going on here," she added, vaguely gesturing over her shoulder toward the interior of the house, where demon blood and destruction lingered just out of sight.

Becca, oblivious to the turmoil that had unfolded only moments ago, chuckled lightly. "So, what else is new, huh?" she joked. "You want some help with the party baskets?"

The sisters reacted instantly, stepping forward in unison to block her path before she could take a single step inside.

"No!" Phoebe blurted out, holding up her hand as if physically barring Becca from further entry. Her forced smile barely masked the tension in her eyes. "No. It's just, I'm afraid something came up and Buffy and Piper can't—"

Becca blinked at the odd behavior, but her face quickly fell as a new concern settled over her features. "Oh no! Don't tell me you two are not gonna come?" she pleaded, disappointment coloring her tone. Her gaze flicked back and forth between Buffy and Piper, her hopeful expression faltering. "Everyone's so looking forward to seeing you again."

Piper hesitated for a moment, torn between logic and the guilt creeping into her chest. "Oh really? They are?" she asked, her lips quirking up ever so slightly.

Becca nodded enthusiastically.

"Well, then—then we can't disappoint them," Piper declared, though the slight nervousness in her voice didn't go unnoticed, especially by Phoebe, who narrowed her eyes.

Buffy, picking up on Piper's shift, nodded in agreement. "We'll grab some stuff at the market on the way there," she said breezily, already turning back into the house with Piper following close behind to retrieve their purses.

Phoebe's polite smile remained frozen in place as she turned back to Becca. "Will you excuse us for one minute?" she asked sweetly, not waiting for an answer before gently closing the door in Becca's face.

The moment the door clicked shut, Phoebe spun on her sisters, her expression shifting from cordial to exasperated in a flash. "What—? Are you two out of your minds? You two can't still go!" she hissed, her voice laced with disbelief and growing irritation.

"Yes, we can," Buffy countered smoothly, folding her arms, her posture practically radiating authority. Her expression was unwavering, her tone absolute. "We don't all need to be social outcasts, Phoebe."

"But we have to scry for that demon," Phoebe argued, her wide eyes darting between her two sisters as frustration laced her voice. She crossed her arms, her stance firm, determined to keep them from running off to a party while there was still work to be done.

Piper, however, remained unimpressed. "Well, it doesn't take four sisters to scry," she pointed out matter-of-factly, tilting her head slightly as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "You and Paige can do it while Buffy and I go to the shower." Her tone was casual, but there was a finality to it, the kind that made it clear she had already made up her mind.

Phoebe groaned, dragging a hand down her face. "Piper, Buffy," she whined, drawing out their names like a petulant child, her tone pleading.

Buffy simply grinned, completely unmoved by Phoebe's dramatics. "Call us when you find him," she replied cheerfully, flashing her sister a quick wink as she turned toward the door.

But Phoebe wasn't letting them off that easily. She lunged forward, grabbing both Piper and Buffy by the arms in a last-ditch effort to keep them from leaving. "Piper! Buffy!" she whined louder this time, her voice taking on a desperate edge.

Piper let out a sharp sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose before finally snapping, "Phoebe!" The forcefulness of her tone made Phoebe jolt slightly, but Piper immediately softened, inhaling deeply before continuing. "Look, the bottom line is, if I'm ever gonna have kids, then I need to have a life first. Which means I need to be a human first and a witch later," she reasoned, her voice firm but laced with an underlying vulnerability. "Okay? Got it? Good." She gave a decisive nod, not waiting for Phoebe's response before turning on her heel and marching toward the door. With a bright, overly enthusiastic smile, she yanked it open again and greeted Becca like nothing had just transpired. "Hi!" she chirped before calling over her shoulder, "Bye, Leo!"

"Bye!" Leo called back, barely able to stifle a chuckle as his wife disappeared out the door without another glance.

Buffy made a move to follow, but Phoebe quickly shifted her glare onto her, her expression seething as she jabbed a finger in Buffy's direction. "You!" she growled accusingly.

Buffy raised an amused brow, grabbed Phoebe's finger, and gently pushed it down. "Don't point that finger at me, Pheebs," she chided lightly. "Piper deserves a life, and you heard her—she needs it if she's even going to consider having a baby." Her voice softened just slightly as she added, "That's what you want, isn't it?"

Phoebe pressed her lips together, visibly deflating. With a reluctant nod, she conceded defeat.

"Well, then it's a win-win for both of you." Buffy smiled triumphantly before leaning in and planting a quick kiss on Phoebe's forehead. Then, without another word, she turned toward the living room and called out, "Bye, Paige!"

"Bye!" Paige's voice floated back, distracted, likely still sulking over her destroyed chair.

Buffy turned back toward the door, grinning. "Later, Dad!"

"Bye, honey," Leo responded warmly, his tone filled with an easy acceptance of the chaos that was his family.

With that, Buffy slipped out the door, her boots clicking against the pavement as she jogged toward Becca's car.

Just as she reached the car, Phoebe's exasperated yell rang out behind her. "YOU FORGOT COLE!"

Buffy smirked, barely glancing back as she quipped, "So did Piper, but I didn't hear you yelling at her for forgetting him."

Becca looked between them in confusion as Buffy slid into the backseat behind Piper, who was already buckled in beside her unsuspecting getaway driver. Buffy simply leaned back, smugly satisfied, while Piper let out a contented sigh.

Becca glanced at them both, bewildered. "Uh… should I even ask?"

Buffy chuckled. "Probably not."

Underworld

The Chameleon demon paced nervously in the dimly lit chamber of the Underworld, his long fingers twitching as he cast anxious glances toward the shadows. The oppressive darkness was thick with the scent of sulfur and burning incense, the eerie glow of flickering torches casting jagged shadows along the stone walls. Each tortured scream that echoed through the vast cavern sent a shudder down his spine, his patience wearing thinner with every agonizing second.

Then, in a sudden eruption of flames, the air crackled with energy as the Source materialized behind him, his towering presence engulfing the space with an almost suffocating force.

"You have failed me," the Source's voice boomed, his words laced with undeniable displeasure.

Alaster, the Chameleon demon, whirled around sharply, his beady eyes widening in alarm. He swallowed hard, forcing a nervous grin. "I beg to differ," he countered, though his voice wavered slightly. "Aside from locating Balthazor, everything I have learned about—"

"May all be for naught," the Source cut him off coldly, his voice like a deadly whisper of fire licking at dry wood. His hooded form seemed to grow taller, darker, as if the shadows themselves bent to his fury. "Now that they have exposed you, Alaster."

Alaster cringed at the sharp disapproval in the Source's tone, his stomach knotting with the weight of failure. His mind raced, desperate to find a way to salvage himself, to avoid whatever cruel punishment lurked in the demon overlord's mind.

"The element of surprise was critical to my plan's success," the Source continued, his tone now laced with controlled rage.

Alaster bobbed his head eagerly, grasping at any shred of redemption he could muster. "But you can still use the information to capture one of them," he reasoned quickly, voice pitched with urgency.

The Source took a slow, deliberate step forward, his presence looming like an inevitable storm. "That's not what I needed the information for!" he snapped, his fury crackling in the air like an impending lightning strike. "Capturing is easy. Tricking one of them into giving up all of their powers was the ultimate goal."

Alaster shrank beneath the weight of the Source's words, his nervous fidgeting worsening under the dark lord's piercing gaze.

"That's why I needed to learn everything about them," the Source continued, his voice now smooth yet venomous. "Their hopes… their fears… their dreams."

For the first time since the conversation began, Alaster straightened, his eyes gleaming with newfound enthusiasm. "Then accelerate your plans!" he encouraged hastily, sensing an opportunity to prove his worth. "Use me to capture the one that you want." He pressed his trembling hands against his chest, his voice growing more insistent. "After all, they'll be after me now."

A beat of silence passed as the Source studied him. Then, ever so slowly, a smirk curled beneath the shadows of his hood.

"Yes, they will, won't they," the Source murmured, an air of dark amusement in his tone.

Before Alaster could react, the Source erupted into flames, vanishing only to reappear within the same infernal blaze—this time as an exact clone of Alaster himself. The demon stiffened, his wariness morphing into outright terror as he stared into his own reflection, his mind struggling to process what was happening.

"But then… why not cut out the middleman?" the Source mused, raising his hand effortlessly.

Alaster barely had time to gasp before searing flames consumed him, his agonized screams swallowed by the cavern's abyss as he was reduced to ash in a matter of seconds.

The chamber fell eerily silent.

The Source exhaled slowly, rolling his new shoulders as he adjusted to his borrowed form. Then, he turned, his attention shifting to the massive stone altar behind him.

In a ripple of smoky energy, the Oracle appeared, her feline-like eyes gleaming with mischief as she stepped forward, adorned in flowing silks that shimmered unnaturally in the dim light.

"It is time, Oracle," the Source intoned, his deep voice still carrying the weight of command. "I must know now—which of the sisters do you foresee will be most vulnerable to my plan?"

The Oracle cocked her head, a knowing grin curving her lips. "Well," she purred, trailing her fingers lazily through the air, "each is vulnerable in their own way." Her eyes gleamed with dark amusement. "But…" She let the word linger, as if savoring the moment.

She moved gracefully to her crystal ball, waving a delicate hand over the swirling mist inside. As the haze cleared, an image flickered into view—Piper Halliwell, laughing, her face filled with a rare, unguarded joy.

The Oracle smirked as she traced a slow, deliberate circle over her own stomach. "The eldest," she revealed. "Piper seems to have the most resistance to the craft." She let out a quiet chuckle, as though sharing a secret only she was privy to. "Her yearnings…" She gestured toward her midsection with a knowing glint in her eyes. "Appear to be her greatest weakness."

Payson's P4

The baby shower buzzed with warmth and excitement, laughter weaving through the air like a soft melody. A pastel-colored banner stretched across the back wall, spelling out Welcome Baby! in cheerful, bubbly letters. The scent of vanilla cupcakes and fresh flowers mingled with the light perfume of the guests, the atmosphere alive with joy and celebration.

Seated on a plush, cream-colored couch, Wendy let out a delighted gasp as she lifted a fluffy white onesie from a neatly wrapped gift box. Her eyes sparkled as she held it up for everyone to admire, the delicate fabric soft between her fingers.

"Aw! How cute is this!" she cooed, her voice thick with affection. She turned to Piper, her expression beaming. "Oh, Piper, this is adorable! Where did you get this?" she gushed excitedly, stroking the tiny outfit with adoration.

Piper, perched beside Buffy, smiled at Wendy's enthusiasm. "Um… a little shop in the Embarcadero," she answered, warmth in her tone. "They have the cutest things."

Wendy sighed dreamily, carefully folding the onesie back into the box with reverence. "Thank you so much, for everything," she said, her voice thick with gratitude as she reached out, arms encumbered by her swollen belly, to hug Piper as best she could.

Piper chuckled, leaning in to embrace her friend with care. "Oh, you're welcome!" she replied, squeezing Wendy gently before pulling away.

Wendy's expression softened as she gave Piper a knowing look, her head tilting slightly. "We have so much to catch up on," she pointed out, her tone gently chiding yet affectionate.

Piper's smile faltered just a fraction, guilt creeping in at the reminder. She nodded, exhaling softly. "I know. We will," she promised, pressing a quick kiss to Wendy's cheek before stepping back, her mind already weighed down by the many times she had postponed the exact conversation they needed to have.

As Piper moved away, Wendy turned her attention to Buffy, who had been sitting beside them, quietly observing. "And thank you, Payson, for letting us use the club," Wendy said, sincerity filling her voice.

Buffy, who had been absently smoothing down the hem of her dress, perked up at the mention of her name. She offered a small, genuine smile. "You're welcome. But you should thank Piper more than me," she admitted, throwing a glance at her sister. "While Piper lets me have a say in how it's run, I won't officially take over ownership till I turn twenty-one."

Wendy's lips curved into a smile, appreciative nonetheless. "Well, thank you anyways," she said, squeezing Buffy's hand briefly before turning her attention to another guest who was stepping forward with their gift.

Buffy took the opportunity to follow Piper, weaving her way through the scattered groups of chatting women until she found her sister settling into a chair beside Becca.

Piper barely had time to relax before she noticed Becca looking at her—pointedly. The way her old friend was watching her, eyes narrowed just slightly, sent a flicker of wariness through her.

Piper turned toward Becca, mirroring her stare with an arched brow. "What?" she questioned, suspicion lacing her voice.

Becca simply shrugged, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile. "Nothing," she said, though the mischief in her tone suggested otherwise. "It's just good to see you out and about again, that's all." She then glanced at Buffy, her expression softening. "You too, Payson."

Buffy returned the smile, but there was something sad in her eyes, a ghost of loss still lingering beneath the surface. "Yeah…" she nodded slowly, voice quieter than before. "…after Prue died, it took some time to…" She trailed off, words failing her as emotion pressed in on her chest.

Becca tilted her head, observing them both carefully. "Yeah, but I mean even before that," she elaborated, her brows drawing together slightly. "Piper, it's almost like the last… three or four years, you just kinda… disappeared. You introduced us to Payson and then…"

Piper exhaled through her nose, her shoulders slumping slightly as she gave a small, regretful nod. "Yeah," she agreed, her voice heavy with unspoken apologies.

The warm, lively atmosphere of the baby shower was abruptly interrupted by the sharp, insistent ringing of Piper's cell phone. The cheerful chatter around them barely dimmed as she frowned slightly, setting down her drink and fishing through her purse with quick, distracted movements. Her fingers brushed past a compact mirror, a set of keys, and a crumpled tissue before finally closing around the phone.

Glancing at the screen, her frown deepened as the caller ID flashed home.

"Oh no!" Becca groaned dramatically, her shoulders slumping. "Don't tell me you have to go." Her voice was laced with disappointment, her previous cheer deflating in an instant.

Piper hesitated, her thumb hovering over the answer button. Becca's expectant, hopeful expression made her hesitate just a little longer.

"…No," she finally said, her voice uncertain. She clicked the phone off and slipped it back into her bag. "It can wait."

Before Becca could respond, another phone blared through the air, this time from Buffy's purse. The sound was jarring, making Buffy wince as she reached into her bag, rustling through receipts and loose change before finally pulling out her phone. Her stomach twisted slightly when she saw the screen.

Home.

Buffy and Piper exchanged a glance, an unspoken understanding passing between them.

"I'll see what they want," Buffy said, her voice steady but resigned. Piper nodded reluctantly, as if already sensing where this was going. Buffy pushed herself to her feet and maneuvered through the guests, slipping toward the quieter side of the club. She pressed the phone to her ear and answered with a wary, "Hello?"

"I—I tried calling Piper's phone, but it went dead," Leo's voice crackled on the other end, sounding rushed.

Buffy exhaled, her eyes closing briefly. "That's because Piper switched it off, Dad," she said matter-of-factly. "Why are you calling?"

Leo's tone shifted into urgency. "Paige and Phoebe think they've found the demon."

Buffy's stomach dropped. The weight of responsibility crushed down on her as her shoulders tensed. "Already?" she asked, her voice edged with disbelief. "They did? Are you sure?" There was no disguising the disappointment in her tone.

"Yeah," Leo confirmed. "You two have to come home."

Buffy ran a hand through her hair and let out a long, heavy sigh. "Dad, just a second." She turned on her heel and strode back toward her sister, her boots clicking softly against the polished floor.

Piper barely looked up before Buffy extended the phone toward her. "You speak to him," Buffy muttered.

Piper groaned dramatically, reluctantly rising from her seat. She shot an apologetic glance at Becca. "I'll be right back," she promised before walking off to take the call. "What?" she snapped, pressing the phone to her ear.

"Paige and Phoebe think they've found the demon," Leo repeated, his voice still firm. "You and Buffy need to come home."

Piper let out an exasperated sigh, her frustration bubbling over. Without thinking, she stomped her foot, her irritation echoing in the motion. "How are we supposed to have kids if I can't even be at someone else's baby shower?!" she demanded, throwing her free hand into the air in frustration.

There was a brief pause. "What?!" Leo asked, clearly caught off guard.

"Nothing," Piper huffed, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. Her shoulders sagged as she exhaled deeply, her irritation settling into weary acceptance. "Never mind. Okay, Buffy and I will flame back in a couple of minutes. The least we can do is say goodbye." She ended the call with a swift press of the button and turned back toward Becca and Buffy.

"Come on," she told Buffy, her voice resigned.

Buffy nodded knowingly. Neither of them needed to say it—their responsibilities would always pull them away. It was just the way things were.

They grabbed their purses quickly, weaving through the guests toward Wendy, who was still surrounded by a few well-wishers. Piper's expression softened with regret as she approached her friend.

"Wendy, I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "We have to go. Something's come up."

Wendy sighed, her lips curving into a small pout. "Now? But we haven't even had cake yet," she whined playfully, her disappointment clear. "You two are gonna miss the best part."

Piper gave a short, humorless laugh, shaking her head. "We know," she murmured, almost to herself. "The story of our lives."

Wendy still looked disappointed, but she gave them both a small understanding smile.

"Bye, Wendy," Buffy said, her voice warm despite the abrupt departure.

Once they were outside, Piper took Buffy's hand, and with a final regretful glance back at the club, the sisters vanished in a swirl of fiery flames, leaving behind the sounds of laughter, clinking glasses, and the lingering scent of vanilla and baby powder.

Halliwell Manor

The tension in the room was palpable, a quiet storm brewing beneath the surface as everyone processed the weight of their situation. The manor's living room, usually a place of warmth and familial connection, now felt like a war room, charged with urgency and uncertain outcomes.

Paige furrowed her brow, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. "So, we've got a spell to vanquish the Chameleon, but we're not going to use it? I don't get it," she said, her voice laced with confusion and just a hint of exasperation.

She, Phoebe, and Leo stood in a loose semi-circle behind the couch, their body language tense but attentive. Buffy leaned casually against the back of the couch, though the sharp focus in her eyes betrayed her composed exterior. Cole stood in front of the couch, his expression unreadable as he listened, while Piper paced in slow, deliberate circles around them.

Piper let out a loud, frustrated sigh before finally perching herself on the back of the couch next to Buffy. The subtle exchange of support between the two women was immediate—Buffy gently patted Piper's hand, then gave it a reassuring squeeze. Phoebe caught the moment, her gaze softening as she turned to her eldest living sister.

Leo, ever the voice of reason, stepped forward. "Well, you vanquish him only if you have to," he clarified, his tone calm but firm. "The goal here is to try and interrogate him, find out what the Source is planning."

Paige's lips pressed together as she considered this, before she nodded. "Okay, but I'm thinking that this guy's not gonna be so eager to spill his guts," she pointed out skeptically, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

Cole took a slow, deliberate step toward Phoebe, his stance solid, unwavering. "No, he'll spill," he corrected with a quiet confidence. "I'll see to that."

Phoebe's reaction was immediate—she shook her head, her golden-brown curls bouncing slightly. "No, you can't come," she argued, her tone edging on frustration. "He saw you with us, which probably means that the Source has some bounty ready to attack you or capture you or something."

Cole barely flinched, utterly unfazed. "So, what else is new?" he countered with a smirk, unconcerned by the ever-looming threat on his life.

Phoebe exhaled sharply, her patience thinning. "It doesn't make it any less dangerous," she snapped, crossing her arms as she met his gaze head-on.

The tension between them crackled, but before the brewing argument could escalate, Paige loudly interjected, her voice slicing through the charged atmosphere. "So…" she started, shifting closer to Prue and Piper, "the question still stands—how do we get a demon to stop and chat with us?"

Phoebe took the opportunity to redirect the conversation, pivoting away from her spat with Cole. "Well, Piper can freeze him," she suggested, looking toward her sister. "And then unfreeze his head—she's done that before." She tilted her head slightly. "How do you feel about that?"

Piper, who had been quiet up until now, sighed heavily and slid down from the couch's backrest, settling onto the cushion instead. "I don't know," she admitted, running a hand through her hair.

Cole arched a brow at her hesitation. "Why?" he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity. "You got a better idea?"

Piper hesitated for just a moment before finally voicing her thought. "Maybe…" she started slowly, the idea forming as she spoke, "we could tell him to offer the Source… a deal instead."

Phoebe frowned, exchanging a concerned glance with Buffy before the two sisters instinctively moved toward Piper's side. Buffy settled next to her on the couch, the weight of the conversation already pressing heavily on her shoulders, while Phoebe perched herself on the coffee table, her body tense with disbelief.

Behind the couch, Leo, Cole, and Paige lingered, their postures stiff as they absorbed Piper's suggestion. A quiet unease settled over the room, thick and unspoken.

"Deal?" Leo echoed, his brows drawing together in confusion. "What kind of deal?"

Piper exhaled slowly, as if already bracing herself for the inevitable pushback. "Well, something like… he stops coming after us, and we stop going after him," she replied, her tone unnervingly calm.

"What?" Phoebe's voice rose in alarm, her eyes darting toward Buffy.

Piper ignored her younger sister's outburst and pressed on. "Of course, that would mean we'd have to stop going after all of his demons too, which would be fine by me. It would stop all the constant attacks." Her voice was firm, but beneath the surface, there was something else—something fragile, a desperation for something more than the endless cycle of battles.

Paige, who had been listening with growing skepticism, leaned closer to Cole and Leo, her voice lowered but still edged with disbelief. "Am I the only one who thinks she's bumped her head?"

Phoebe caught her gaze, shaking her head in agreement. "You can't be serious, Piper," she said, her tone almost pleading.

Piper straightened, her eyes flashing with determination. "Actually, I've never been more serious in my life," she countered without hesitation. "Think about it." She turned her gaze to Buffy as well, including her in the argument. "This could be an opportunity for us to get out of the demon-fighting business once and for all."

A stunned silence filled the space as the weight of her words settled over them like an immovable force.

"Wait." Leo took a step forward, concern deepening the lines in his face as he moved to crouch beside his wife. "What, and just give up on your destiny?"

Piper shrugged, turning to face him with a quiet but resolute expression. "How do you know we haven't already fulfilled it?" she challenged, her voice softer now but no less firm. Leo remained silent, watching her carefully. "I mean, God knows we've saved scores of innocents already. Maybe that's enough. Maybe it's time for some other witches to take over and let us get on with our lives."

Phoebe shook her head, looking increasingly panicked. She turned toward Buffy, silently seeking backup, but the blonde Slayer was staring down at her hands, deep in thought, her jaw clenched.

Piper pressed on, her voice laced with urgency. "Isn't it worth a try in exchange for what we might be getting? No more putting things on hold—vacations, friends, kids!" Her voice hitched slightly on the last word, but she pushed forward, eyes searching her sisters' faces for any sign of agreement.

Buffy exhaled a deep sigh and finally lifted her gaze, her expression filled with reluctant understanding. "I wish it was that simple, Piper," she said, her voice quieter now, laced with something close to sorrow. "I can't give up, and you know it. They will always come after me. I'm not only half-witch, half-Whitelighter—I am also the Slayer. And I'd just about bet the Source would not honor such an agreement anyway."

Phoebe's lips pressed together, her voice trembling slightly when she spoke. "I can't give up now," she said softly, but the conviction in her tone was unshakable. "We are so close. We have to take out the Source if we can." Her eyes darkened with grief, but also with determination. "And if not for us… then for Prue."

Piper's breath hitched, her expression flickering with raw pain before she masked it with frustration. She shook her head, exhaling sharply. "Fine!" she snapped, rising to her feet with abrupt movements. "I just hope we don't end up where she did."

The words landed like a slap, raw and brutal, cutting through the room with an undeniable finality. Without waiting for a response, Piper spun on her heel and stormed off up the stairs, leaving the others in heavy silence, staring at the space where she had just stood.

Streets of San Francisco

The air was thick with tension, an uneasy stillness settling over the four sisters as they stood near the front of Piper's car, their breaths forming small puffs in the crisp night air.

"Okay now, something's not right," Piper spoke up, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her sharp gaze swept over their surroundings, scanning for any sign of movement. "We've checked both alleys twice."

Phoebe let out a long, frustrated sigh, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "Well, the Chameleon's gotta be here somewhere because the crystal never lies," she reminded them, her fingers gripping the scrying crystal tightly.

Paige shivered, hugging her arms around herself as an unsettling chill crawled down her spine. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm getting a not-so-good feeling about this," she admitted, glancing around warily. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and her instincts screamed at her that something—someone—was watching them.

"I have to agree with Paige," Buffy added, her body tense as she subtly adjusted her stance. "My spidey sense is going off." Her Slayer instincts hummed with warning, her pulse quickening slightly as she scanned the darkened alleyways ahead of them.

Piper pursed her lips and looked around quickly, considering their next move. "Alright, we'll check one more time, and then we'll call it quits. Phoebe, you and Paige check that alley." She pointed to her left, her expression firm. "Buffy and I will check that one." She gestured ahead, toward the darker of the two paths.

Phoebe frowned, shifting uneasily. "Wait—split up? You think that's a good idea?" Her voice held a note of hesitation, memories of past encounters where separating had gone very badly flashing through her mind.

"Phoebe, there's four of us now," Buffy pointed out, one brow arched as she gave her sister a pointed look.

Phoebe blinked, glancing between her three sisters, realization dawning. She let out a small chuckle. "Oh yeah."

"Besides, maybe it'll lure him out. Who knows?" Piper reasoned, rolling her shoulders to shake off the tension settling there. "If you get nervous, say the vanquishing spell. Keep your eyes peeled—he could be anything."

Paige groaned but threw a dramatic arm around Phoebe's shoulders. "Come on, crazy sister!" she declared, pulling her reluctant sibling down the alley.

Buffy and Piper laughed at the sight before linking arms and heading into their own alley, their boots echoing softly against the pavement. The darkness swallowed them as they ventured deeper into the narrow passage, the air growing heavier with each step.

Piper cast a sidelong glance at Buffy, her grip on her sister's arm tightening slightly. "You know… it's okay… to want a life different than the one we've got, Buffy," she said quietly, her voice softer than before. There was something vulnerable in her tone, a rare moment of honesty slipping through.

Buffy sighed, her chest tightening with emotion. "I'm sorry, Piper," she said sadly, shaking her head. "I know how much you want your normal life back, but…"

Piper nodded, filling in the unspoken words herself. "I know, I know. The Charmed Ones come first," she muttered, chuckling as she attempted her best imitation of Prue's serious tone.

Buffy abruptly stopped walking and rounded on Piper, fixing her with an incredulous stare. "Prue did not sound like that," she corrected, folding her arms over her chest.

Piper giggled, holding up her hands in surrender.

Buffy rolled her eyes but grabbed Piper's arm again, tugging her forward as they resumed walking.

"Admit it," Piper urged, her voice carrying a gentle insistence. "Admit that you want a normal life too, just like me."

Buffy halted once more, turning to face Piper fully. There was something pleading in her sister's eyes, something deeper than just a simple question.

"You know I do, Piper," Buffy said softly, her voice filled with a quiet longing. "You know that is the one thing I've always wanted ever since I was called as the Slayer." Reaching up, she cupped her older sister's cheeks gently, her thumbs brushing lightly over Piper's skin. "Just so you know… wanting a family, freedom from our destiny—it does not make you a bad person." Her gaze locked onto Piper's, unwavering, determined to erase the guilt lingering in her sister's watery eyes.

Piper swallowed hard, her lips trembling slightly before she managed a small, wistful smile. "Thanks, Buffy," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Buffy smiled back, warm and reassuring, before leaning in to kiss Piper's forehead. "Anytime, Piper," she promised.

The two sisters were so engrossed in their conversation, their voices hushed yet urgent, that they failed to sense the danger creeping up behind them. The air around them grew colder, but neither noticed the slight shift in energy, nor the barely perceptible shimmer of a figure moving through the shadows. The alley was eerily silent except for their own footsteps, the steady tap of boots against pavement filling the void.

"Come on," Buffy urged, tugging on Piper's hand as they pressed forward, only to stop abruptly as they reached a solid brick wall. A dead end.

"Crap," Buffy muttered, her jaw clenching in frustration.

Before they could react, movement flickered in their peripheral vision. The Source—still disguised as the Chameleon demon—stepped casually around the corner, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement as he regarded them.

Piper barely had time to gasp before Buffy whirled around, her instincts kicking in instantly. With a sharp flick of her wrist, she hurled a fireball straight at their enemy. The fiery orb struck him square in the chest, causing him to stumble back slightly. But instead of the pained scream Buffy had anticipated, a deep, sinister laugh rumbled from his throat.

Buffy's eyes widened in shock. "Oh! Oh no!" she exclaimed, shooting Piper a wary glance.

Piper's own eyes bulged, her heart racing as she instinctively threw up her hands and flicked her wrists, channeling her power in an attempt to freeze him.

The Source's form wavered for a brief moment, his body shuddering slightly as if resisting the magic. Then, with a slow roll of his neck, he smirked darkly. "Were you expecting me to freeze?" he taunted, his voice laced with condescension.

Piper bit her lip, her stomach knotting. "Uh-oh."

Buffy narrowed her eyes, her mind working rapidly. Something felt off. She studied him intently, noting the way he moved, the way his energy pulsed in a way that was subtly wrong. "Something's not right," she muttered under her breath, unease settling in her bones.

The realization came too late.

"PHOEBE! PAIGE!" Piper shouted as loud as she could, desperation evident in her voice.

The Source smirked at her futile attempt at summoning help. His hands crackled with dark energy, and in an instant, he conjured a large, swirling energy ball. With a quick flick of his wrist, he hurled it at Buffy.

Buffy's reaction was immediate. "Energy ball!" she called out, throwing up her own hand. The flaming projectile was swallowed in a swirl of fire, vanishing momentarily—only to reappear, redirected, hurtling back toward the Source.

But he was ready for her. With a mere shift of his stance, he dodged the deflected attack with ease, sending another energy ball right behind it—this time aimed directly at Buffy before she had the chance to react.

The blast struck her square in the chest, the force of it lifting her off her feet and sending her crashing hard into the far wall. She hit with a sickening thud before crumpling to the ground, unmoving.

"BUFFY!" Piper cried out, horror flooding through her veins. She barely had a second to process before a second energy ball came hurtling at her.

She had no time to dodge. The impact slammed into her back, her body jolting violently forward before her head cracked against the unforgiving brick wall. Stars exploded in her vision as she collapsed onto the pavement beside Buffy, pain radiating through every inch of her. Darkness began to creep into the edges of her consciousness.

Footsteps pounded against the ground, fast and frantic.

Around the corner, Phoebe and Paige skidded to a stop, their eyes widening in horror at the sight before them.

Piper—unconscious—was draped limply in the arms of the Chameleon demon, who now turned to face them, a triumphant smirk playing on his lips.

Except it wasn't the Chameleon.

The Source's eyes gleamed with malevolence as he met their stunned gazes. Then, in a flicker of fire and smoke, he vanished—taking Piper with him.

Paige's breath hitched. Her stomach dropped. "Oh my God," Phoebe whispered, barely able to get the words out, terror gripping her.

"Phoebe!" Paige suddenly grabbed her arm, forcing her attention away from where Piper had just disappeared. Her voice trembled with urgency; her eyes now locked on something equally horrifying. "Buffy."

Phoebe's gaze snapped downward, her breath catching as she took in the sight of Buffy's limp body sprawled across the cold pavement. Blood trickled from a wound at her temple, staining her blonde hair.

For the first time in a long time, Phoebe didn't know what to do. Her mind raced between the sister who had just been taken and the one lying motionless before her.

She was frozen—completely lost.

"Halliwell Hospital"

"Piper?" A voice called out gently, cutting through the fog clouding her mind. The sound was familiar, warm, comforting, and yet, something about it felt off. Piper stirred, a dull ache pulsing in her skull as she turned her head toward the voice. Her eyelids fluttered, struggling against the heaviness weighing them down, before forcing themselves open.

She blinked rapidly, her vision a blur of soft light and indistinct shapes. Slowly, the blur sharpened, revealing a face she knew all too well.

"Piper, are you okay?" Leo asked, his brow furrowed with concern.

Piper's face twisted in a grimace as she let out a quiet moan, her hand instinctively moving to cradle her throbbing head. "Ow," she groaned, wincing at the sharp pain radiating from her temple. "My head hurts."

Leo offered a small, sympathetic smile. "I bet it does. You hit it pretty hard." His hand hovered near her arm, ready to steady her if she swayed. "Are you alright?"

Piper blinked a few more times, trying to shake off the haze. "I think so…" she murmured. Her mind felt sluggish, as if she were swimming through thick molasses. "What happened?"

Leo exhaled softly, his tone patient yet strangely clinical. "What always happens when you have one of your episodes." He told her gently, watching her carefully. "You threw yourself against a wall."

Piper's expression scrunched in confusion. "Episodes?" she echoed. Her eyes narrowed as she turned her head, truly taking him in for the first time. He wasn't wearing his usual flannel shirt. Instead, he was dressed in a crisp white coat over a neatly pressed shirt and tie. Her stomach churned uneasily.

Her frown deepened. "I didn't throw myself—" She cut herself off abruptly, taking in her surroundings for the first time.

A sudden outburst behind her made her jump.

"Before you poison me, I know about the aliens!" a frantic voice cried out. Piper twisted toward the source of the commotion, her eyes landing on a disheveled-looking man standing in the middle of the room, his wild eyes darting around in paranoia. "Or the conspiracy! And I'm gonna tell the world!" he declared, his hands trembling as he pointed accusingly at no one in particular.

Piper's gaze flickered past him, scanning the rest of the house—or what should have been their house. Instead, unfamiliar faces milled about, some pacing restlessly, others huddled in corners whispering to themselves, and a few seated at crowded tables, rocking slightly or staring blankly at their hands.

They were all dressed the same. White trousers, white long-sleeved shirts, and blue t-shirts layered over them.

A creeping sense of dread crawled up Piper's spine.

"What the hell is going on?" she asked sharply, her voice edged with alarm.

Leo placed a calming hand on her arm. "It's okay," he assured her, his voice gentle but firm. "Those are just the other patients."

Patients?

Piper felt her pulse quicken.

Leo offered his hand, and though every nerve in her body screamed not to trust this, she grasped it hesitantly, allowing him to pull her to her feet. The room seemed to tilt for a second, her head still fuzzy from whatever had happened.

"This… this is our house," she insisted, eyes darting around as a new wave of panic surged through her. She turned, trying to get her bearings, but the walls looked different—sterile, devoid of warmth, stripped of the personal touches that made it home. Where were the family pictures? The cozy furniture? The scent of herbs and candle wax?

Leo chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "Piper, Halliwell Hospital is hardly our house." He gestured vaguely to the people around them. "All these other people live here too."

Piper's blood ran cold. "Halliwell Hospital?" she repeated, her voice trembling slightly. "Is… is that some kind of joke?" She turned back to him, staring into his face, searching desperately for any sign that this was some elaborate prank. But his expression remained composed, sincere, and utterly unshaken.

A thick lump formed in her throat. "What's wrong with you?"

Leo's expression softened as he reached for her. "Please, calm down," he coaxed.

Piper shook her head violently, yanking her arm away from his grasp. "No, Leo! I will not calm down! Something very strange is going on—something demonically strange." Her breathing came faster now, her mind scrambling for an explanation. Her memories were intact. She knew what her life was. She knew this wasn't real. "The demon must have cast a spell—changed the house, changed you—"

Her voice broke off as her survival instincts kicked in. If Leo was acting differently, if the house had changed, she needed her sisters. She spun toward the stairs, her heart hammering in her chest. "BUFFY!" she yelled, her voice ringing through the house. "PHOEBE! PAIGE!" she called, her desperation escalating.

Before she could take another step, strong arms suddenly wrapped around her from behind, restraining her movements. "Now, easy, lady. Relax," an unfamiliar voice murmured close to her ear.

Piper bucked against the hold, thrashing wildly. "Let go of me!" she cried, struggling to free herself. Panic clawed at her chest as she fought against the tight grip, her instincts screaming for her to fight harder. "Leo! Don't just stand there!" she pleaded, her voice breaking slightly as she twisted to look at him.

"Problems, Dr. Wyatt?"

A deep, authoritative voice cut through the commotion, smooth but laced with an unsettling undertone. A tall man with graying hair approached, his expression carefully neutral, though there was something eerily detached in his gaze. His pristine white coat hung loosely over his thin frame, the clipboard in his hand barely moving as he walked with slow, deliberate steps. He radiated the kind of calm that felt forced—the kind that concealed something far more sinister beneath the surface.

Piper gasped, a jolt of realization striking her like lightning. Her thrashing momentarily ceased as she locked eyes with him. Her breath hitched, her heart slamming against her ribs as a chill swept through her.

"That's him," she breathed, her voice rising in both fear and fury. "That's the demon!" she exclaimed, her entire body stiffening in the orderly's grip.

A flicker of something unreadable passed across the doctor's face before he sighed, shaking his head with a practiced patience that only fueled her rage.

"Demons again," the gray-haired "doctor" said sadly, his voice carrying the weight of long-suffering disappointment. "Piper, we've been through this thousands of times before. There are no demons." His tone was gentle but firm, carefully measured to sound rational, but Piper could see through the act. He was toying with her. "They're just figments of your imagination," he continued, watching closely as her sharp gaze narrowed at him.

Piper curled her fingers into fists, the instinct to attack thrumming beneath her skin.

"Wanna bet?" she challenged, her voice dripping with defiance. Without missing a beat, she began to chant, her words steady, unwavering, filled with raw determination:

"Evil hiding in plain sight.
I use this spell with all my might.
To stop your changing form and shape.
This vanquish seals your fate!"

She finished with a smirk, her breath uneven but victorious, waiting for the inevitable explosion, the unraveling of the demon's disguise. Any second now—any moment—

Silence.

Nothing happened.

A heavy beat passed, thick with anticipation that soured into confusion. The air around them remained still. The doctor didn't flicker. Didn't shimmer. Didn't burst into flames or wail in agony as a vanquished demon should.

Instead, he merely raised a brow, completely unfazed.

"Doesn't really rhyme, does it?" the orderly restraining Piper remarked offhandedly. Piper's head snapped toward him, her eyes flashing with fury. The orderly cleared his throat, shrinking slightly under her glare. "Sorry," he muttered quickly, eyes darting away.

Piper turned back to the doctor, her confidence beginning to crack. "I—I don't understand," she murmured, shaking her head. "That spell should have worked." Her voice wavered ever so slightly, the creeping tendrils of doubt beginning to curl around her resolve.

"Piper," the doctor said, stepping closer, his tone ever so patronizing, "why do you insist on demonizing me?" His expression was calm, but his eyes were shrewd, watching her reaction carefully. "And every psychiatrist who has ever tried to help you?"

Piper growled, frustration and fear colliding within her as she resumed struggling. "Let me go!" she demanded, thrashing violently. The orderly's grip tightened, but she refused to make it easy for him. "I got to blow him up! I'm gonna blow you up!" she threatened, kicking out wildly in the doctor's direction.

The so-called doctor merely took a measured step back, completely unruffled by her outburst. Instead, he turned his gaze to the orderly holding her. "Her violent impulses are returning," he noted with the detached air of a scientist observing a lab rat. "Straightjacket."

Piper froze for half a second, the words sending a fresh wave of panic through her. "Leo!" she turned desperately to her husband, her breath coming faster now, her chest heaving. "Don't let them do this! Don't just stand there!"

Leo sighed heavily; his face filled with an exhaustion that made her stomach clench. "Piper," he said, his voice quiet, pleading. "Why won't you let Dr. Alastar help you?"

Piper's stomach twisted painfully. The way he said it—so convinced, so certain—made her feel like the walls were closing in. "I don't need his help!" she insisted, her voice cracking. "I need your help! Get this guy off of me so I can use my powers!"

Leo's face darkened; his eyes filled with something that made Piper feel sick. "Piper," he said softly, as if delivering a terrible truth. "You don't have powers." The words sliced through her like a blade. "You're not a witch," he continued, his expression pained but resolute. "You don't save innocents. You never did."

The room tilted. Piper's ears rang. "What?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. A strange numbness settled over her, her mind racing, struggling to grasp onto something real.

A sudden commotion snapped her out of her daze.

She turned her head sharply and felt her stomach lurch as she saw Paige being dragged past her by another orderly, her wild red hair flailing as she kicked and screamed.

"This isn't fair!" Paige shrieked, her voice laced with fury and desperation. "This is my house too! I can do anything I want!" she insisted, her arms flailing as she fought against the hands gripping her. "You're hurting me!"

"Paige!" Piper cried, redoubling her efforts to break free, her own panic skyrocketing. "Paige! A demon took over the house—orb the heck out of here!" she ordered desperately.

Paige's terrified eyes met hers for a fleeting second before she was yanked out of sight.

Dr. Alastar barely reacted; his expression neutral. "Take her to isolation so she doesn't hurt herself," he instructed calmly, his voice eerily devoid of emotion.

Another orderly approached Piper, and she thrashed harder, her breathing ragged, her fight-or-flight instincts screaming for her to run. "No!" she shouted, her movements becoming frantic. "No, wait a minute. Wait a minute!" She twisted, wild eyes locking onto Leo. "Leo!"

Leo's face remained heartbreakingly impassive. "It's for your own good."

Piper's stomach plummeted. She shook her head violently, desperation clawing at her throat. "Wait a minute." Her voice cracked. "Hey! Hey! You're making a big mistake." She turned back to the orderlies, her voice trembling as she tried to reason with them. "Listen to me! He's a demon!"

Dr. Alastar exhaled, shaking his head with something almost resembling pity. "I'm not going to give up on you, Piper," he said with a resolute gentleness that made her skin crawl. "We're going to free you of these delusions, I promise."

Piper bared her teeth, her blood boiling. "Shut up!" she spat, her voice dripping with venom. The orderlies lifted her up, carrying her in the same direction as Paige. "BUFFY! PHOEBE!" she screamed, her voice raw, her heart pounding as she fought uselessly against their grasp.

As they carried her away, Dr. Alastar's voice followed, his words smooth and coaxing, like a devil offering temptation. "I can give you everything you want," he murmured. "If only you'll let me help." His final words sent ice through her veins. "This illness has already consumed more than three years of your life."

Underworld

"Don't let it rob you of any more," The Source concluded, his voice smooth, persuasive—a whisper laced with poison. His dark presence loomed over her, his hands placed firmly on either side of Piper's head, fingers pressing against her temples like claws sinking into flesh. His power pulsed, unseen yet suffocating, as he burrowed deeper into her mind, weaving his illusion tighter around her consciousness.

Beside him, the Oracle stood watching, her exotic features pulled into a look of cautious intrigue. Her piercing gaze flickered between the Source and Piper, who hovered in mid-air, her body suspended unnaturally, limbs slack, head tilted slightly as if caught in a dream she could not wake from. The faint glow of magic crackled around her, binding her in place, the weight of the deception pressing down upon her very essence.

"You're not a witch." The Source's voice curled into Piper's thoughts, threading through the very fabric of her identity. "You only think you are."

For a moment, the illusion held, unyielding. Then, abruptly, the Source's posture faltered—his breath hitching as if an unseen force had struck him. His hands trembled, the connection wavering. Piper's body, once trapped in the eerie weightlessness of the spell, began to lower, her descent slow and controlled until she settled onto the cold stone slab beneath her.

The Oracle's eyes narrowed, her painted lips pressing together as she studied him. "What's the matter?" she asked sharply. "What happened?"

The Source exhaled, straightening, but a flicker of exhaustion passed over his usually unshaken form. "It's just…" He flexed his fingers, rolling his shoulders, irritation creeping into his tone. "It's taking more magic than I realized to project into her mind."

The Oracle's frown deepened, and for the briefest moment, amusement flashed in her dark eyes. "More than you have, perhaps," she mused, her tone casual but pointed.

The Source's head snapped toward her, his eyes flaring with warning. The air around them crackled with an unspoken threat.

The Oracle merely sighed, rolling her eyes with exaggerated patience. "I only mean to caution you," she corrected, her voice turning velvety smooth, but still carrying the undercurrent of a warning. "This is weakening you—making you vulnerable."

A tense silence settled between them, but then the Source let out a low, rumbling chuckle. "But the bounty I seek," he reminded her, turning his gaze back to Piper, "will make me more powerful than ever." His eyes gleamed with dark satisfaction, reveling in the sight of her, utterly unaware of how deeply she was being manipulated.

"If you can get it," the Oracle muttered under her breath.

The Source ignored her, his focus unwavering as he loomed over Piper's unconscious form. "Nobody knows more about the Charmed Ones than I do," he said, his voice thick with certainty. "I know how to break her spirit. I know her Achilles' heel." He paused, tilting his head as his gaze darkened with sinister understanding. "In her deepest heart, she never wanted to be a witch," he murmured, almost reverently. "Yet she feels an obligation to her powers."

The Oracle shifted beside him, arching a delicate brow. "Yes," she acknowledged, "but you said her powers won't work in our illusion."

The Source's lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. "They won't," he agreed, the satisfaction in his tone unmistakable. "And once she learns that painful lesson," he continued, lowering his hand to stroke Piper's forehead almost tenderly, "she'll willingly give hers up." His fingers brushed against her skin, light as a whisper, but his touch was laced with malice. "And with them," he added, his voice thick with triumph, "her sisters' powers too."

Halliwell Manor

"Anything?" Paige questioned, her voice tight with apprehension as she stepped up behind Leo. He stood rigidly by the open conservatory window, his gaze distant, shoulders tense as if straining to reach beyond the physical realm. The golden light of late afternoon spilled through the glass, casting long shadows across the room, but there was no warmth in it—only the chilling absence of Piper.

At the small round table, Phoebe sat hunched over the map, a crystal dangling from her fingers, swinging restlessly over the scattered locations. The Book of Shadows lay open beside her, its worn pages flickering under the shifting candlelight.

Buffy sat slouched in a chair, her posture stiff as she pressed an ice pack against the base of her skull. Her hair was slightly disheveled, her breathing even but shallow—a testament to the pain still radiating through her body from their earlier battle. She barely seemed aware of the growing tension in the room.

Leo exhaled sharply, his face lined with frustration and fear. He turned, shaking his head.

"I can't sense Piper anywhere," he admitted, his voice subdued but heavy with meaning.

Paige's expression crumpled as her stomach twisted. "Does that mean that she's—"

"No!" Buffy and Phoebe cut in sharply, their voices firm, almost desperate.

"He wouldn't have taken her if he wanted her dead," Buffy elaborated, her jaw tightening. Her words were steady, but her grip on the ice pack trembled slightly as she set it down on the table.

Paige hesitated before slowly lowering herself into the chair beside Buffy, casting her sister a sideways glance. "You alright?" she asked, her tone softer now, laced with concern.

Buffy let out a short breath, wincing as she rolled her shoulders. "I'll live," she muttered, managing a half-smile. It wasn't entirely convincing.

The air in the room suddenly shifted with a shimmer of dark energy, and before anyone could react, Cole materialized in front of them, his usual cool demeanor slightly undercut by the thick green goo dripping from his clothes.

Phoebe gasped, her eyes widening in horror. "Cole—oh my god!"

"I'm alright," Cole cut in quickly, lifting his hands to silence her before she could launch into full panic mode. His gaze darkened as he addressed the group. "But I just found out that… Piper's in the Underworld." His words dropped like a stone, and his expression was grim as he stepped beside Phoebe. "I think the Source has her."

The air went still.

"The Source!" Phoebe breathed, her voice nearly breaking, and beside her, Paige's eyes bulged in sheer disbelief.

Buffy sat upright, her movements slow and deliberate, but there was no shock on her face—only cold realization, as if some deep suspicion had just been confirmed.

"Are—are you sure?" Phoebe asked, her voice shaking. "How do you know?"

Cole smirked slightly, but it was humorless. He flicked some of the green goo off his fingers with a sharp, impatient motion. "From another Chameleon demon," he answered. "I kind of… squeezed it out of him."

Buffy exhaled sharply, shaking her head. "I knew it," she muttered under her breath.

Paige turned to her, brow furrowed. "Knew what?"

Buffy let out a frustrated sigh, her fingers curling into fists on the tabletop. "I knew there was something different about him," she explained, her voice low but charged with anger. "Our powers had absolutely no effect on him and…" she trailed off, her eyes darkening as she stared at nothing in particular, her mind replaying the brutal encounter. "...and he kicked our asses. A pathetic little Chameleon could not do that!"

Phoebe let out a soft chuckle despite the tension, shaking her head as she glanced at Buffy. "Let it go, Buffy," she teased with a smirk, though the fear still flickered in her eyes.

Buffy shot her a glare, but Phoebe was already shifting her focus, reaching for the Book of Shadows. "We've got to find her," she said firmly, flipping open the heavy tome. "There's got to be a spell in here somewhere—"

The moment her hands closed around the book, Phoebe's body jerked violently, her eyes flying shut as a sharp gasp escaped her lips.

Then, she froze.

A vision overtook her—

Buffy, Phoebe, and Paige, standing together, their bodies pressed close in a last stand, fear and defiance carved into their faces. Buffy clutched her Book of Shadows to her chest like a lifeline, while Phoebe held the family's sacred tome against her own.

Then he appeared.

The Source.

He moved toward them, his presence suffocating, his power inescapable.

With a slow, deliberate wave of his hand, the books ripped from their grasp, vanishing in a swirl of blue and white orbs—only to reappear in his hands. A triumphant smirk curled his lips.

And then—destruction.

The Source lifted his hand and threw it forward.

The sisters exploded.

Phoebe's breath hitched as she was wrenched back to reality. She gasped, her body trembling as the vision released her, leaving her in its aftermath—cold, silent, shaken to her core. She blinked, staring ahead, barely registering the way she slowly sank into the chair. The weight of the vision was crushing her, rendering her motionless.

"Phoebe?" Cole's voice came from behind her, hesitant, concerned. But she didn't react.

Paige swallowed hard, glancing anxiously at Buffy.

Buffy frowned, worry flickering across her face as she reached out, her fingers brushing over Phoebe's hand. "Phoebe?" she called softly.

Phoebe flinched. Her eyes snapped to Buffy's, wild and haunted, as if she had just looked into the abyss and seen her own death staring back.

"I—I saw the Source, stealing both books…" Phoebe explained, her voice uneven, as if the weight of her vision was still pressing down on her chest. She paused, her fingers tightening around Buffy's hand, anchoring herself to reality. When she continued, her voice was steadier but no less grim. "…and killing us, with our powers." Her words hung heavy in the air as her eyes locked onto Buffy's, searching for some kind of reassurance that simply wasn't there.

Buffy exhaled sharply, the tension in her shoulders growing more pronounced. She held out a hand toward Phoebe. "May I?" she asked, gesturing toward the Book of Shadows.

Phoebe wordlessly passed it to her, and Buffy began pacing, the heavy tome cradled in her arms. She turned it over in her hands, flipping through pages almost absentmindedly, but her expression was distant—her mind elsewhere, trying to pull at the edges of the premonition Phoebe had just experienced.

But nothing came.

No visions, no flashes of insight. Just the same gnawing feeling of helplessness.

With a frustrated huff, Buffy stopped pacing and set the book down on the table with a dull thump. "Stupid premonitions," she muttered under her breath, rubbing her temples.

Paige, who had been silently absorbing everything, frowned deeply. "Our powers? How can he get our powers?" she questioned, a thread of panic creeping into her voice.

Phoebe and Buffy both shook their heads in unison, their brows furrowed in confusion.

"Maybe…" Cole spoke up, his voice measured as he perched on the arm of Phoebe's chair. He glanced between them all before continuing, "…he's figured out a way to get them from Piper. Explains why he's keeping her alive."

Phoebe immediately shook her head, her jaw tightening. "No, that's not—she can't give them up by herself," she pointed out sternly, as if the very suggestion was absurd.

"Well, she can using the relinquishing spell in the book," Leo said quietly, his expression grim, the lines on his face deepening with worry.

Buffy turned sharply to face him. "Dad, we ripped that spell out of both my book and the family's book and burnt it three years ago. It doesn't exist anymore."

Leo exhaled slowly, his gaze distant, as if seeing something the rest of them couldn't. "It does in her mind," he murmured.

Phoebe scoffed, pulling the book closer to her, gripping the cover as if that alone could protect them. "That's crazy! She'd never say it. She'd never give up her powers," she snapped, her frustration mounting, her desperation seeping through the cracks in her voice.

Leo didn't respond, but Paige hesitated before speaking. "Even though she was kind of willing to this morning?" she reminded them all sheepishly.

Phoebe froze, her lips parting slightly as she processed that.

"I'm just saying," Paige defended herself against the sharp look Phoebe shot her.

Phoebe sighed, rubbing her temples. "Look, I know what you're saying, but you don't know what you're talking about," she said tersely.

"Phoebe," Buffy cut in, her voice firm with quiet warning.

Phoebe turned to her younger sister sharply, frustration flashing in her eyes. "Come on, Buffy! You can't seriously believe that Piper would do that!"

Buffy didn't blink, didn't waver. Her lips pressed into a thin, resolute line. "Yes, I can… and I do, Pheebs."

Phoebe's breath caught as she stared at Buffy, her emotions surging in her chest. Tears welled in her eyes, but she swallowed hard, blinking them away. She turned to Paige with an exhale. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice softer, regretful.

Paige shrugged, brushing it off with a casualness that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Forget about it," she said, but Phoebe could tell that it had stung.

Leo cleared his throat, redirecting the conversation. "Maybe you and I should go down there," he said, turning to Cole. "See if I can sense her."

"I'm coming with you," Buffy announced immediately, pushing herself up from her seat.

Leo frowned, his fatherly instincts flaring. "Buffy…"

"No," Buffy interrupted, shaking her head stubbornly. "I'm no good up here right now anyway. We need the Power of Four for the Source. And right now, without Piper, there is no Power of Four. Besides, I can help Cole keep the demons off your ass while you're trying to sense her."

Phoebe sighed, glancing at Leo before giving him a small nod. "Better let her, Leo."

Leo hesitated, then reluctantly nodded. "Alright." He reached for Buffy's hand.

Cole glanced at them both before turning, his expression shifting into something more determined, more ruthless. "Follow me," he ordered before shimmering out.

Without another word, Leo orbed out after him, Buffy vanishing alongside him in a soft burst of light.

"Okay." Phoebe said loudly, standing up. "There's a bunch of summoning spells we can try," she informed her sister, lifting the book into her arms, "Come on." She called over her shoulder, heading for the stairs.