Shrouded in the darkness of midnight in San Francisco, Christopher Halliwell bent over the ceremonial bowl he had placed on the makeshift altar. If his mother found out he was casting spells in the middle of the night he was sure there would be a long-winded lecture in his future. Even at eighteen and newly graduated, Chris was expected to keep his magic in check. Which had been a simple enough requirement to "follow" (as long as his mother never found out, it didn't count as far as he was concerned.)

Chris pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned as another memory tried to force its way into his brain like a searing hot needle being pushed through flesh. He tried to shrug off the pain and force the memory away but it bubbled to the surface and Chris clutched his head.

He crept through the Halliwell manor, sliding through each shadow and remaining unnoticed. Demons stood guard at every door, no doubt with strict orders to bring him to Lord Wyatt should he ever be caught. Chris ducked behind the basement stairs to peer through the slatted steps, desperately waiting for a moment he could find a way out.

"Going somewhere, Christopher?" a sly voice rasped into his ear before the world went black.

Chris was ripped from the memory and muffled his cry of pain. He hunched over for a long moment, rocking slightly as he waited for the lingering pain in his head to subside. When the world finally cleared from a hazy field of pain, the witch continued his spell.

The memories had begun innocently enough. At first he had only believed them to be strange dreams, flitting in and out of his mind every other night. As they progressed, however, entire nights were spent caught in a haze; in a world where nothing was right. It had been several months of sleepless nights before Chris had discovered their true meaning. His "other" self as he had dubbed it. His mother and father had explained everything, insisting they had just wanted to wait until he was 'ready' before dropping the ultimate bomb. Wyatt had shut himself in the basement for a week, only coming out when Chris had coaxed him.

Chris sprinkled poppy seeds into the ceremonial bowl and sighed heavily, wiping sweat from his brow. He had been curious about his other self- who wouldn't be. The dreams had been enough, providing him with snippets of his past life and information of the unchanged future. Those he had been able to handle.

The flashbacks, he couldn't.

At the mere thought of the agonising pain, his spine rippled uncomfortably. They were a recent development, one he had yet to mention to his parents or Wyatt. His older brother would hide away again, disgusted in his other self and blaming himself for things that were not his fault. His parents' reaction to the flashbacks would not be much better; he would probably never see the light of day again. The flashbacks were vastly different in comparison to his dreams; they felt like a hot knife in his brain, torturing agony that left him panicked and disturbed.

Chris bundled several thistles together and cleared his throat quietly. The spell had been a long shot, but if there was anyone out there who could explain what was going on, he would try anything.

"Power of the witches rise,

Course unseen across the skies

Seeking guidance, seeking grace

Bring a saviour through time and space."

A gust of wind burst from nowhere; pages of Chris' notebook flipped wildly as the scrying crystal on his bedside table flew through the air and burned into the map of San Francisco. The scent of melted plastic filled the small room and Chris choked back a curse. The spell was supposed to bring someone to him, not find him some random stranger. The teenager rose to his feet and curiously removed the scrying crystal. It glowed blue in his palm, magic spilling into the core. The melted portion of the map had been completely destroyed, prompting Chris to consult another map in order to figure out where he was being directed. It had taken him a long time to work it out, but if magic was directing you somewhere, the best thing to do was go after it.

"Spike's Bar," he mumbled to himself as he let the map drop onto his bed.

A bar? That was magic's huge plan? He needed a guide to work out what the hell was going on with his body and mind and past self and he was being sent to a bar? He had his doubts about this one…

A spike of agony smashed into his skull and he gripped his head, the pain overtaking his whole body. A memory forced its way into it brain, the white hot needle inching through his brain as pictures flashed before his closed lids. As he lay on the floor, gasping and choking and waiting for the pain to recede, he made his decision.

Orbs swirled together outside Spike's bar, the teenager straightening his leather jacket and heading for the door. It opened with a low growl of the hinges and a scrape against the floor, but nobody looked air was thick with smoke and sweat, the overpowering smell of alcohol had soaked into ever crevice of the bar. Burly men were gathered around a pool table, large sums of money stacked on a nearby table. A few girls lingered on barstools, swirling small umbrellas in the fruity cocktails. Though it would be a lie if he said he had never been in a bar like this, he normally frequented demon bars. It was somewhat reassuring to know that nobody in this bar was going to suddenly turn on him and try and steal his powers.

Chris tried to blend in as he made his way through the dingy room. The lighting was bad, but that was to be expected. Nobody came to these places expecting a five star suite. Chris craned his neck to see around the room, his gaze finally landing on the bar where the women had gathered. It would have been a normal occurrence, had Chris not locked eyes with someone already watching him. She looked about his age, though there was a lot of distance between them. There was no denying it, however; she was looking right at him. Self-conscious, Chris tore his eyes away and wandered around. He didn't know why the crystal had brought him here, but all he could really do was sit and wait for something to happen.

A large, yellow sign was thumbtacked to a door, words bolded and clear.

EMPLOYEES ONLY. KEEP OUT.

The only thing the door would lead to would be the back alleyway, but given the Halliwell track record with alleys, he assumed it would be his best bet. With several furtive glances at his surroundings, Chris ducked out the back door.

The air outside was not as choking, though it could hardly be considered "fresh". Chris closed the door behind him and kicked a squashed beer can across the ground. It was decidedly chilly; he noted as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans and chased the can, kicking it again.

"Come on," he mumbled to himself, "Magic always does something. Whatever you brought me here for, do it…"

"Hey!"

Chris whipped his head around, clearly startled by the sudden voice. It was the bartender who had been watching him earlier, two large bags of garbage clutched in her hands. Chris offered her a weak smile that she didn't return.

"Employees only back here. Can't you read?" She said as she tossed both bags into the dumpster. Now in the floodlights of the alley, Chris could tell she was his age, if not younger. He chose not to question how she scored the job in favour of taking in her appearance. He wasn't sure he liked the way she had been eying him inside, but if she was a demon she would have attacked already.

Her hair was dark brown and straightened, just grazing the bottom of her shoulder blades; her eyes were light blue and several freckles dotted her cheeks and nose. The blue jeans and black shirt were nothing telling, all of the employees had been wearing them. He was too far to read the nametag pinned to her chest but she began speaking, breaking him from his riviere.

"Look, I don't care if you're back here but if my boss catches you, it's going to be my ass so if you could just leave, then-"

"Why were you watching me in there?"

The girl looked affronted and folded her arms over her chest, almost contemplating whether or not she should supply him with an answer.

"…I thought I knew you for a second," she said finally, brushing his question off with a casual shrug, "But we've never met, have we?"

Chris shrugged and offered her his most dazzling smile. He might not have much on Mister Twice Blessed Wyatt Matthew Halliwell, but he could wiggle his way in or out of most situations. "I'm sure I'd remember you."

The girl laughed and cocked one eyebrow, "Very smooth. It doesn't change the fact that you are in a restricted area and you will need to get out."

Chris continued smiling and propped himself against the wall of the alley. If she worked here, maybe she could help him find the guide he was looking for. Magic worked in mysterious ways, but it always worked. He was meant to find something here tonight. Something important.

"Does anything… weird ever happen around here?"

"Weird" was his best way to describe it for the moment. It wasn't as though you could go around asking people if they were witches or knew about Magic. Most of the time he was recognised just because he was a Halliwell, but that never stopped the occasional witch from noticing him. The bartender's eyebrow climbed higher.

"Define weird. This is a bar."

The fine hairs on the back of his neck prickled and adrenaline spilled into his body as the air rippled in front of him. Six foot seven and tan-skinned, the demon snarled menacingly and bared four sets of teeth. Chris was lucky enough to dodge the energy ball, but let his eyes drift to the girl. This would be the ultimate way to tell if she was a witch or not.

Eyes wide and mouth open, the girl staggered back in terror as the demon turned on her. Chris' stomach tightened with sickening realisation. Not a witch. Defenseless. Chris threw out his hand without thinking, the demon flying back to collide with another large dumpster.

Vanquishing spell would be good now!

Chris had spent hours studying the Book since he was allowed to read it, but this demon was nothing he had ever seen before. Chris wasn't too panicked, however. Wyatt might have been the master of powers, but Chris could whip up a kickass potion and spell on the fly better than Wyatt could even dream.

"Beast of death and beast of hell,

The bloodlust that he longs to quell,

Remove this beast from swelling place,

Vanquish him from time and space."

Fire erupted around the demon's body, the flames licking at his skin until it melted away into nothingness. Chris breathed a sigh of relief as he turned around, only the rustle of garbage bags jolting his attention. The bartender had backed into a corner, her eyes firmly locked on Chris.

Chris gasped as the crystal in his palm grew white hot and fell to the ground. The brunette paid him no mind, still slumped against the wall in complete shock and terror of what she had just witnessed. Unsure what had caused the crystal's reaction; Chris kneeled down to study it. The crystal emitted a soft, effervescent light that pulsed and danced through the once translucent object. As Chris reached out to grasp it, it rolled from his touch until it stopped at the girl's feet, now glowing brighter than it ever had.

Nursing his hand, Chris eyed the girl with a mixture of curiosity and confusion; this was her? The girl who had the answers to all of his questions? She could help him? She wasn't even a witch. He stepped forward and she skittered back, one hand raised.

"Get… away from me."

Chris rubbed his brow and raised both his hands in a sign of truce, letting her know he had no weapons and would not hurt her. He realised, belatedly, that she had just watched him throw a demon into a wall with his hands and raising them maybe wasn't the best idea. If he didn't talk to her it risked exposure, but right now he doubted she wanted to be anywhere near him. Chris offered her a tense smile and lowered his hands.

"I'm Chris. Chris Halliwell. I'm not going to hurt you."

The girl pressed to the wall didn't relax her posture, though it was not as though Chris could truly blame her. He squinted at the nametag and stepped a little closer.

"Charlotte? That's your name, right?"

She nodded, not seeing the harm in revealing as much. It took several deep breaths, but she regained her voice.

"Charlotte Perry."

A/N- I know what you're asking. Why am I not working on ED? The short answer is- I am. The long answer is that it is the last chapter and it's taking a lot more work than I anticipated to wrap up the story without it seeming abrupt. Yes, I will be doing the sequel to ED but this came to mind today and I churned it out and I've done about 3 chapters of it so I thought I'd see how it goes over.