It was late at night, with the moonlight streaming outside and the cars of the city rushing past the people who take the time out of their busy schedules to sleep. Chris slept a little less than peacefully in his room at P3. He tossed and turned in his bed, unable to keep the memories from flooding his mind, even as he slept.

The Halliwell-Wyatt manor was busy as it always was that morning. Chris sat in the kitchen, while Piper was at the stove making pancakes. His younger sister, Melinda, was next to him. Wyatt came down the steps, dressed in black with an attitude.

"Wyatt, where are your books?" Piper asked him, trying to catch him before he sauntered out the door.

"I don't need them, I'm not going to school today," he said casually.

"Wait, you have to---"Piper was interrupted by the slamming of the door. "---go to school," she finished to nobody in particular.

"You need to be harder on him, you know," Chris said. "He's running wild, and you're not doing anything to stop it."

"Don't be ridiculous, Chris," she said, "He's seventeen. Do you have any idea what I was like at seventeen?"

"That's beside the point, Mom," Chris said, "Something bad could happen. He could turn evil."

"Don't you dare say that," Piper said. "My son is not evil."

Chris stood up and grabbed his backpack. "I have to go."

"What you have to do," Piper said, "Is stop being so serious all of the time."

He cleared his throat. "Bye Mom," he said.

Melinda looked at Piper, her face concerned. She was caught in the middle, even though she was the youngest. She was always caught in the middle between Wyatt and Chris.

"I'll talk to him, Mom," she said, giving Piper a hug and a kiss on the cheek before grabbing her backpack and rushing out the door.

"Chris," she called.

He kept walking, "We're going to be late, Melinda, we have to hurry."

"Chris, stop or I'll freeze you," she said.

Chris stopped and turned. "I don't freeze, you know that."

"But it got your attention."

"Fine, what?"

"You shouldn't be so hard on her; she's doing the best that she can, Chris. Its not like she has a lot of help from Dad," Melinda explained.

"Maybe she should demand his help," Chris said. "Something terrible is going to happen. I have a feeling."

"Well, unless you have a premonition, which isn't going to happen, because you don't have that power, you need to be nicer to her. What if something happens to Mom? What if a demon attacks?"

That was the day Piper Halliwell died.

Chris sat up in his bed, wishing the recurring memory would go away. He sighed and flopped back down on the bed. He looked next to him, where his quote-unquote girlfriend slept. They'd been 'seeing' each other for a while now, but neither was sure where their relationship was headed. Celeste was beautiful, with chestnut brown hair and eyes that matched. He wished he could open up to her, but every time he tried, there was a call from the sisters and he had to make a quick getaway and leave her waiting for an explanation they both knew would never come. Sometimes he didn't see her for weeks, and by the time he did see her, their hormones would take over and then they would fall asleep. Then a call from the sisters would come and the process would be repeated.

Celeste turned and stirred and her eyes fluttered open. "Baby, what's wrong?" she asked sleepily. "Did you have another nightmare?"

"It's nothing," he said. "You should go back to sleep, it'll be morning soon."

"I don't want it to be morning," she said, curling up to his chest, "because then you'll get another one of your mysterious pages that I never hear, and you'll have to leave."

"I know," he said. "But we have right now."

"What was the nightmare about?" she asked. "You never tell me about them."

"It's nothing," he said again. He stood up and crossed the room.

Celeste sat up, holding the sheet around her body. "I wish you would tell me," she said. "I mean…we've gotten…in ways… so close, but I feel like I don't know you at all."

"It was about my mom," he said. "About the day she died."

"What happened to her?" Celeste asked futilely. Chris would never tell her anything about his life. He would shut up; become distant and sometimes even come up with an excuse for the quick exits that he was famous for.

He got that distant look in his eye; the one Celeste had learned to fear.

"It doesn't matter now," he said, moving closer to her. "It's in my past."

"Will I ever know your past?" she asked.

He looked at her again. Her brown eyes and her hair and her fair skin tone…it all made her look perfect. Beautiful. He kissed her. "Someday," he said. "But for now," he gently pulled the blanket away. "All that matters is us."

She smiled, almost half-heartedly. Being here with Chris, being in his arms was beautiful. She just wished he could trust her.