Leo dropped his head onto the bed as sobbed as his son's body faded away beneath him….
21 years later
Sophie sang softly to herself as she opened her door and walked into the living room. She jumped to see an unconscious man lying on her sofa. Walking slowly forward – it pays to be cautious in these kinds of situations – she let out a small cry of pity as she realised the man had been stabbed. Rushing now she reached him and knelt down closing her eyes and gently touching the wound.
The second hand on her clock ticked loudly through the house, tick, tick, tick. Seconds passed, turning into minutes but neither human moved…tick, tick, tick.
After about three quarters of an hour of nothing Sophie slowly opened her eyes, she refocused and then jumped up, a bustle of activity. She ran through the house picking up all sorts of things, a bandage first, then a bottle that looked like perfume, a feather was pulled out of her pillow, a teaspoons worth of dust from her loft, a letter from her office and the last word in her favourite book was carefully cut out and cradled as she brought it down to where the man still lay motionless. Finally she went back into the kitchen and picked up a bowl and a made a mug of hot chocolate. Returning she pulled a cushion from under him and sat down on the floor, the items all strewn out around her.
Taking a sip of the chocolate she picked up the perfume first, poured a drop onto the man's nose and then replaced it. Next she took the feather and held it in her left hand, between the second and third fingers. Now another sip of chocolate. Then, being careful to keep the feather in place, she pulled her t-shirt over her head and wrapped the bandage around her, in the same place as the wound on the man. Her next move was to place the piece of paper with the last word on it on the man's chest, right above his heart. Picking up the teaspoon of dust she gulped down the rest of the nearly full mug of hot chocolate, gasping as the heat flowed down her throat. Carefully moving the cushion without spilling any dust she turned herself to sit on the floor parallel to the sofa. Closing her eyes and breathing deeply she blew the dust from the teaspoon and instantly fell back in a dead faint.
Chris awoke gently, as if from a deep sleep, he felt a slight burn over his heart and watched in fascination as the word 'back.' Faded into his chest leaving no mark at all. He sat up quickly, unsure where he was and certain he'd just been stabbed with an athame, what happened to Wyatt? Leo? The sisters? Gideon? He tried to sense them all to orb but it made his head dizzy, instead he sat up properly and swung his legs over the edge of the sofa. The sight that met his eyes when he did sent his legs straight back onto the sofa. Lying on the floor in front of him was a girl about his age, maybe a year younger. She had long chestnut coloured hair which looked like it reached her waist when she was standing, and she wasn't wearing anything but a bra on top, but it wasn't that which struck Chris. No, it was the fact that she looked dead. Dead from a bandaged wound, exactly where his had been.
Even as Chris stood up and moved her to lie on the sofa the deathly pale colour dissipated somewhat and she began to breathe. He sighed with relief and continued to try and make her comfortable. He found a chair in the kitchen and settled himself down to watch her and be ready for when she woke up.
Meanwhile in the Halliwell Manor
"Paige, have you seen Chris?...No I've already asked Phoebe….Paige he's not going to be off somewhere like usual…for a start because Wyatt's here but mainly because it's his 21st birth…Paige! No! He saved the future, he can't have gone, it doesn't make sense how can he have gone if he didn't go into the past this time?...I am not panicking…get your butt over here!"
Piper hung up the phone, "Wyatt!" she yelled, her eldest son orbed into the room beside her,
"What's up mum?" the tall 23 year old looked down at his mum concerned,
"We have to scry for your brother, it's his 21st"
Wyatt frowned in confusion, "umm, and he's probably just out having a good time with his mates and won't be especially please if his older brother orbs into the middle of his fun."
"No, no, it's his 21st" Piper moaned,
"It was his 21st birthday when he was born and when Gideon made his move," came from Paige as she orbed into the room carrying a map and a scrying crystal.
Realisation dawned on Wyatt's face, his parents and aunts didn't really talk about past Chris much so he hadn't fully comprehended what they meant. Snatching the crystal away from his aunt Paige he focused all of his concentration and considerable power on finding his brother. The crystal stayed dead in his hands, nothing, not even the breeze coming through the window moved it. He sat like this for fully half and hour before giving up, eyes glassy and confused at what that must mean. He looked up to see all three sisters, beckoning him into their embrace.
Chris jumped when he saw her eyelids flutter after an hour of nothing; leaning forward eagerly he waited, unsure of what had happened and what to do.
"Water" crocked a voice, "coming right up" he said, running into the kitchen and opening all the cupboards to find a glass and then fill it up from the tap,
"Thanks" came the crock from the kitchen doorway; he swung around, "should you be moving?"
She chuckled, or at least tried to, took a deep gulp of water and moved to the tap, re-filling the glass as she said, "no, I'm fine, just need to drink a lot of water, you were pretty de-hydrated after losing all that blood."
Chris frowned, he was de-hydrated? He watched in confusion as she removed the bandage from around her middle, beneath the blood-soaked gauze was a small scar; it looked like a stab wound. Like his stab wound. He blinked, watching as she put her top on but not seeing, instead his mind was working at a mile a minute, somehow she'd taken his wound and that had healed him, and then she'd healed herself? "What…?" he couldn't complete the sentence, what did he want to know? What question is the right one to ask?
She chuckled again, this time managing a full laugh before needing another gulp of water, "would you like a drink and then we'll go sit down and I'll explain."
"Umm, no thank you,"
"Ok." They moved back into the living room, she took the armchair, curling her feet under her and settling back comfortably, he perched on the edge of the sofa.
"Well, where to start. My name is Sophie; I am a healer as I'm sure you've guessed already. It's a rare thing, in fact I think I may be the only one left, whitelighters have meant our services are hardly needed anyway which is a jolly good thing as healing is exhausting let me tell you!" she smiled at him again, forcing him to involuntarily relax a little, there was something about the smile which lit her whole face and was quite catching.
"Well, the way my gift works is that I can heal anything in myself so all I have to do is take whatever wound or illness it is into myself. Yours was my trickiest yet I have to say, it took me a long time to work out exactly what I needed to do – that's another part of my gift, I can work out how to take on the problem by touching the wound, or near the pain and the focusing on it, then somehow I know what needs to be done. Well, that's about it I guess. Oh except I have no idea who you are or why you were stabbed with such a protected athame. All I know is that the elders wanted you to be saved so sent you to me, and even that I'm just guessing. Would you care to elaborate? It's definitely your turn to share!"
She smiled again at him as she finished off her glass of water.
"Well, I suppose you deserve some sort of explanation. Thank you for saving me by the way,"
"Oh, it's nothing how could I not when I knew it is within my power to help?"
"My name is Chris Halliwell, and I guess you could say I've come from the past…"
"…and then I woke up here, I need to get back to my family, I don't even know whether Wyatt is evil or not or what happened or anything"
As he finished speaking he looked up at Sophie, "here" she said gesturing to the letter in her hand, "I received this two years ago, read it" He took the letter and read
Dear Sophie,
In two years time exactly you will be called upon to heal a dead man. We do not know if this is possible, you will certainly be able to take the death and wound from him but whether you can heal afterwards is uncertain. You must decide whether to take the risk. If you are successful he will be confused, please give him this letter and the enclosed.
Regards, the Elders.
"The enclosed?"
"Here" Sophie picked up a second letter which he'd let fall to the floor unnoticed,
Chris,
All is well, you were successful. Not all of your memories are the same but some still are, go back to you family with confidence, they miss you.
By the way, the Chris from this time as it were has disappeared, merged into you, you are the same person. Do not try to understand it for no one can.
The Elders.
Chris frowned as he read but Sophie could tell he'd read what he needed to so she stood up, "I suppose you'll be going home now?"
Starting he glanced up, "home? Yes, I need to go home. Thank you, Sophie."
"Anytime" she smiled as he orbed out.
She turned away and began to tidy up the living room. Once she had done this she pulled out her book of shadows and began to write,
To take on death and a protected athame wound… you need a drop of perfume on the nose (to stimulate the senses?); a feather (as with all stab wounds); a teaspoon of dust (to break the protection spells?); and the last word in your favourite book – this is the bit that moves the death from them to you. Why?
She closed the book with a sigh and leant back, switching the television onto some documentary about the value of storybooks
"…because the last word in a book is never the last word in the lives of the characters, imagination lets them live on…" Sophie smiled, of course because her favourite book is the strongest source of life without actually using real humans. She sighed again as she drifted off into sleep knowing that somewhere out there Chris was being re-united with the family he saved.