"You can't come into our lives, pull my family apart and just expect us to trust you!" Piper yelled in a fury. She flung her arms about as she spoke and blew up the pot next to Chris. He, on the other hand wasn't showing anything but the desperate attempt to hide his emotions, mostly pain. It felt as if someone was wringing out his stomach. He tensed up so bad his forearm started to shake, and with it, the room. His telepathy was growing stronger and harder to control in the past. He cursed under his breath. Piper couldn't know. She had no clue that he is a witch, and it had to stay that way. He gritted his teeth. "You just show up and send us on an endless demon hunts making it seem like we don't care about Wyatt. We don't even know who you are! I'm not going to trust some neurotic, pathetic excuse of a Whitelighter, who can't even heal, from the future!"
"Piper, please. All I want to do is help. You know that! You don't think I have life back home, that I don't miss my family and friends? I'm sacrificing everything just to save your son. I'm risking my own existence for your son! All I am doing is for you. And one day, when you're living in a future where the sky is blue and the sun is shining and you haven't ever heard someone screaming bloody murder in the house next to you, maybe then you'll realize how important your duties were as a charmed one. How some guy from the future made it possible to raise your kids in a peaceful world."
"I know how important it is to be a charmed one, Chris. Now you have to realize how important it is to have a normal life. Unless you can give me a hell of reason why I should blow your ass back to the future right now, you're going to have to leave. I don't trust you around my son. My only son."
"Okay, just don't say I didn't warn you." He turned and left, orbing midway to the door. Piper collapsed onto the couch, her face in her hands. She could hear Paige and Phoebe bickering down the hall about the water temperature and tried zoning them out. When the room when dark and silence, she focused on her breathing until she realized the room wasn't the room anymore. Her visibility was shot, at a short two foot radius. The next time she blinked, she was laying on a cold cobblestone road. The sky was grey and there was a stench of burning flesh hanging in the air. Buildings were decaying while weeds were overtaking the last bloomed wildflower. She stared at its violet petals, being suffocated by a demonic vine.
"Hey! You there! Turn around with your hands over your head!" A voice boomed. It echoed down the barren street. A gun cocked and a bullet soared towards the alley. Piper jolted around, bringing her arms up in surrender. Her heart was beating fast. The man commanding the orders was looking in her general direction, although even though his eyes were directed at her, she had a strange sensation he wasn't speaking to her. It was almost as if he was glancing beyond her, or through her. She slowly lowered her hands and studied the man. He didn't seem to notice her movement. His uniform was stiff with sweat and there was dirt under his poor kept nails. A bead of sweat came down his face, dripping to his neckline. Piper heard soft footsteps behind her, and a man in a black sweatshirt appeared. He walked with a slight limp, and held a terrible cough. His dark brown hair was overgrown and matted, his face cut, bruised, and sooty. He doubled over in a coughing fit and the general once more fired towards the sky. The young man stayed hunched over and bore his exhausted eyes at the general.
"You here to kill me?" He wheezed one more time.
"Show your card, now!" The general was growing impatient with the sick man. A hand reached into a back pocket and the young sick man took out a form of ID from a worn out leather wallet, filled with now worthless currency. He reached out his arm, ID held in his hand, waiting for the general to come by and inspect it. Moments before his card was taken, the sick man collapsed in a heap of the shivers, too weak to keep standing. The water in the puddle soaked through his sweatshirt and covered his ID in dirt. The only visible thing on the card was the stamp on the lower right. "Eh. Killing you is going to be easier than I thought."
"Stan, please." The man lifted his head and begged for his life. The general took in the vision of the sick man in a new light after hearing his name and felt a weight in his stomach. "Please."
"Son of a bitch, man, you should have joined when you had the chance… He gave us the cure, kicker… You always came in first. You were always the fastest. Guess life's just another heat." The general took off his cap in respect and let a tear slip out. His lower jaw was trembling. "Should have joined when you had the chance…"
Piper stood, taking in the scene. She wanted to scream. The sight was so warped. They obviously knew each other. The general cared about him at least at one point in his life, so why didn't he help? She walked closer to the sick man and sat with him believing he doesn't deserved to die alone, even if he couldn't see her. Finally seeing his face close up, she recognized his eyes and soon saw the familiar face of her Whitelighter. His breath slowed and he fell asleep, right there on the ground.
Piper sat against the brick wall of the alleyway and watched Chris sleep, checking for a pulse every few moments. She wondered if this was the point in his existence where he made the transition to being a Whitelighter. In the hour she sat there, not a soul passed by. It was the heart of the city, and not a soul passed by. She desperately wished she could move him out of the cold, but no matter how hard she tried the world wouldn't let her change anything. She stroked his face, no longer caring if he could of couldn't sense her. She watched his eyes flutter open a bit.
"Mom?" He used all his strength to move his arm in Piper's direction, causing her to tear when the arm when through her as if she was a ghost. The sight of his fever induced hallucination made her shake with sorrow. "Mom…"
"I'm here, Chris. I'm here!" Piper yelled, even if he couldn't here her, even if she believed she wasn't his mother. She truly felt for him, for the first time. Seeing him in this vulnerable of a state caused her motherly instincts to act up. As she yelled, she could swear his faint smile was his response.