My first full-length Charmed story is finally underway! I'm going to take a break from all of my other fanfictions and see if I can concentrate on this one. Who knows? If I'm really on a roll, there's even a chance that I'll update everyday. But that's a slight chance. And just to clear things up, this story takes place a little after the "Spin City" episode.

Happy reading!

I own absolutely nothing from "Charmed" other than this plot, my characters, and any other unfamiliarity's that are woven into it. Those ownership rights go to Brad Kern.

"Bloodline"

--Chapter One: Remembrance--

By marissa-christina

Lowering himself down on Aunt Pearl's old couch with a sigh, Chris ran a hand through his hair as he narrowed his eyes at the small woman standing in front of him. "Seriously, I'm fine!"

With an entirely character-defining snort, Piper Halliwell placed her hands on her hips, her mouth set in a firm line, as she regarded her son with a raised eyebrow. "Uh huh, yeah. How about you let me be the judge of that, hmm?" she countered as she took a seat beside him, neatly shrugging him off as he leaned in to help her. "No, no. Pregnant or not, I can sit down on my own, thank you very much." Reaching over, she grabbed his arm and pulled it towards her, sending him a knowing smirk as he let out a hiss of pain. "'Fine', eh?"

Looking away from her, Chris scowled, cheeks hot with discomfiture. "It's nothing; just a flesh wound. It barely got me."

Piper 'hmphed' as she pulled the tattered remains of his sleeve away from the bleeding gash, not bothering to contain her sympathetic grimace as she uncovered the large abrasion that stretched over Chris's entire forearm. "Good thing the bastard's already dead, otherwise I'd bring him back and blow him up all over again," she grumbled as she stood up, albeit a little awkwardly, and walked over to the far side of the attic. Rummaging around what was once a shelf, she let out an exultant 'ah ha!' as she discovered what she was looking for. "I knew this would come in handy sooner or later." Returning to her son's side with a grin, she presented him with the fully stocked, completely undamaged first-aid kit; the one that was rarely used, but Piper insisted on having incase the situation called for it. And with whitelighter healing not readily accessible at the moment, it was the perfect opportunity to put it to use. Chris simply grunted in response, but let his mother do as she would and as Piper took her time cleaning out his wound, he glanced around the attic.

He really hated to admit it, but he had definitely been caught off-guard when the demon decided to attack, hence the result of his bleeding arm when he wasn't quick enough to get out of the way of an energy ball. Luckily, vanquishing it had been simple enough, mostly due to Piper's unannounced visit to the manor and a couple of trigger-ready fingers, but unfortunately, the attic hadn't fared quite as well.

"There," Piper said a few seconds later as she set the bandage in place and closed the kit. Chris murmured his thanks and stood before walking over to the podium that was left untouched in the center of the attic. Opening the ancient book, he began flipping through the pages. Piper got up and went to stand beside him. "So, what was it this time?" she asked.

"I'm not sure. I don't think I've seen it before." He paused as a delayed thought struck him, and he turned to look at her. "What are you doing here anyway?"

Piper frowned. "I just wanted to check in with everything, make sure everyone's doing all right," she answered curtly. "Besides, it's my damn house and I can come down here any time I damn well please."

"What about Wyatt?" Chris retorted, unable to ignore the momentary stab of panic that struck him.

His expression must have betrayed him, because Piper's eyes softened and she squeezed his uninjured arm. "Gideon volunteered to watch him until I got back. He'll be fine," she assured him, and Chris felt the sudden tightness in his chest recede somewhat. Magic School was safe, he reasoned, which mean Wyatt was protected, with or without his mother there. His lips twitching upwards in what could be described as a meek attempt at a smile, he jerked his head once. Piper smiled back and hunched over the book. "Now, wait," she said, pointing to the page Chris had landed on. Tapping the picture with her fingertip, she nodded to herself. "That's the one."

"Loxtes Demon," Chris confirmed, voicing his agreement. "'These demons ambush unsuspecting witches by using their uncanny ability to cloak themselves against even the strongest of sensors. Nearly all are known to have the common power of conjuring energy balls, but some have obtained the powers of their victim witches…'" he read, eyes flashing with irritation. "That explains why I couldn't sense anything."

Piper rubbed her chin thoughtfully as she scanned the next page. "There's a vanquishing potion here, but I don't think we'll have to worry about it. He seemed pretty easy to kill."

"Who was easy to kill--oh, Piper!" Phoebe walked in, a wide smile on her lips as she crossed the threshold of the attic and hurried over to give her older sister a hug. "What are you doing down here?"

"It gets kind of boring at Magic School and I wanted to make sure nobody blew up the house."

"You should be resting." Piper rolled her eyes and waved off her sister's remark.

"I'm six and a half months pregnant; I'm not incapable," she informed her. "There's only so much reading I can handle, especially when I'm constantly surrounded by a bunch of teenagers who think that having a zit is the end of the world. Let me tell you, it gets real frickin' annoying really quick." Chris hid his quiet chuckle behind a well-timed cough before pondering over the book again.

Phoebe sighed in exasperation and shook her head, choosing instead to turn to look around the attic, taking in the mess that hadn't been there when she left for work that morning. Frowning, she tilted her head towards her sister and her nephew. "Demon attack?"

"How'd you guess?"

Scoffing, Phoebe approached the two, her gaze scrutinizing as she stared at them for a long moment, her eyes lingering on the bloody remains of Chris's shirt sleeve. "Are you all right?" she asked him, her eyebrows wrinkling in concern. Chris nodded. Phoebe switched over to her sister. "How about you?" Piper nodded as well. Letting out a satisfied little sound when she felt that everything was fine, both empathically and visually, with both of them, Phoebe took a seat on the old couch. "So fill me in."

Piper shrugged, "Nothing new, Phoebs. Demon popped in, attacked Chris, I walked in, I got pissed off, and he got blown up."

"Then it was just your classic vanquish, right?" Phoebe joked as she crossed her legs and clasped her fingers on top of them.

"Of course," Piper replied, setting her hands over the soft swell of her belly. Phoebe smiled and sent Chris a sly glance. He promptly ignored it and ducked his head, but not before giving Phoebe enough time to see the ever growing flush that stained his cheeks. She chuckled to herself as she got to her feet.

"Okay then, so!" Phoebe said enthusiastically, clapping her hands. "Since you two seem to have everything under control, I'm going to head off. I just wanted to stop over to grab my other purse, then I've got to leave…"

"Leave for what--?" Piper started to ask, but she cut herself off as the sheepish grin on Phoebe's face answered the question for her and she remembered just where that particular look came in to play. "Another date? Phoebe!" she scolded. "Look, I know you want to find the guy who gets you pregnant, but don't you think your speed-dating technique is just a…I don't know…a little unorthodox?"

"Well, yeah, maybe. But you didn't see what I saw, Piper. I mean…" Phoebe's sentence trailed and her brown eyes took on a dreamy quality. Piper sighed softly and walked over to her sister and wrapped her arms around her waist.

"Maybe I didn't," Piper began, coaxing Phoebe from her reverie. "But I think I might have an idea of what it felt like."

Phoebe blinked, but slowly smiled as she looked down at her sister's distended stomach. Placing her hand over it, she felt her nephew begin to stir against her palm, and it only fueled her need to find her Mr. Right and experience the joy for herself. Resting her head on her sister's shoulder with a wistful little sigh, she nodded. "Yeah, me too." After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Phoebe bit her lip. "You know, maybe I'll skip the date today and stick around," she offered. "There might be another attack." Moving out of Piper's embrace, she strode over to Chris and reached up to pinch his cheek. "And I wouldn't want my wittle nephew to be injured again," she cooed in a high-pitched tone as she tugged on his skin. Chris winced.

"Uh, yeah, great," he said, stepping away from his overly demonstrative aunt and retreating to the relative safety of his mother. Rubbing his throbbing cheek, he sent Phoebe a rather disgruntled glare as Piper tried hard not to crack smile. "I think my cheek has a heartbeat of its own now. Wonderful."

The two broke out into helpless fits of laughter as the young witch-whitelighter bolted for the attic stairs.

Once he got downstairs, he went straight into the kitchen and to the refrigerator. Opening it and grabbing a water bottle, he took a seat at the table. As he broke the seal and took a sip, his free hand wandered into his pants pocket.

Capping the bottle and setting it down, he pulled his hand free and opened his palm, his eyes taking on a poignant look as he stared at the ring. 'Bianca…'

It still hurt, looking at the ring and knowing it wouldn't rest on the finger of the fiery phoenix as it was meant to. Holding the jewelry between his fingers, he stared at the small, but beautifully carved diamond, just as he stared into the memory on the day he had slipped it on her finger and asked her to be his.

"Will you marry me?"

"You're asking me here? Now?"

"This is still our spot, Bianca, no matter what he's done to it. Marry me."

"On one condition. You come back to me. Safely."

"Have I ever let you down before?"

Chris scowled in self-disgust, fist clenching over the ring as he vehemently bit back tears. He had let her down in the end, hadn't he? He had just left her to die, stuck in the hell that she had fought against for so long, while he jumped back through that damned portal to return to where he was safe to complete his mission, their mission, whereas she lay on the attic floor in a pool blood with a freaking piece of wood jutting out of her stomach.

"H-haven't we been here before?"

"Maybe we will be again."

"Maybe…"

Her last words rang through his head, and he held onto the quiet hope that someday he'd be able to put the ring back where it belonged.

"Chris?"

So immersed in his thoughts, he hadn't heard Piper enter the kitchen, and he jumped at the sound of her voice. Looking up sharply at his mother, he shoved the ring back into his pocket before bowing his head. Piper's eyebrows furrowed in concern as she took in Chris' red-rimmed eyes, a sure sign that he had been crying, or at least had been close to it. Unable to ignore the maternal instincts that screamed at her, she went over to him and cupped his chin, gently forcing him to look at her. "Honey, are you okay?"

Giving her a tight nod, he pulled his face away from her hand and stood up. "I'm fine."

Letting her arm drop to her side, she managed a weak smile. "Of course you are," she murmured softly as she made to leave the kitchen, but not before Chris saw the reticent hurt in her eyes. His hand came in contact with her arm, causing her to stop and glance up at him.

"Really, Mom. I'm okay," he quietly assured her. Piper smiled and patted his hand with her own before she turned and left the room, heading for upstairs. Chris watched her retreating back and sighed. He hated making her sad, but this was hard for him. He'd gone without her for so long that he was afraid to get close to her again, knowing full well that if he'd ever accomplish what he came back to do, he'd have to go back to where his mother wouldn't be. And the thought of that scared the hell out of him.

Pushing his chair back, he got up and put his half-emptied water bottle into the refrigerator before he exited the kitchen. Instead of following Piper upstairs, he made his way to the sunroom. Leaning against the archway, he crossed his arms and looked at the playpen positioned in the center of the room. Sometimes, he still found himself trying to get his head around the fact that his brother was able to stay within the confines of such a weak structure, that here, his brother was this tiny, little person who only used his powers because he didn't know it was wrong and everything he did with them was purely an innocent act of testing his own strength. The differences between the Wyatt from the year two thousand and four to the Wyatt that Chris was trying to save was almost too much for him to comprehend, but Chris just taught himself not to compare the two versions. Shaking his head, he orbed himself back up to the attic and strode over to the podium, resuming his earlier reading of the Book of Shadows while his aunt and his mother continued with their conversation.

"When did Paige say she'd be back?" Piper asked. The words died on her lips as the sound of orbing chimed through the room and the youngest Charmed One materialized in front of her sisters.

"Hey!" Paige piped in cheerfully. Phoebe's eyebrows raised in mild surprise.

"Well, well, Missy Paige, you seem to be in a better mood then you were earlier," she said with a grin. Paige shrugged and plopped down on the old couch next to Piper.

"Walking down the streets of Milan does wonders when you're stressed out. The window shopping is particularly delightful," she admitted, running a hand through her wavy brown hair. "Being half whitelighter has its upsides, I suppose." Paige sighed languorously and rubbed her neck. "Did anything happen while I was gone? Other than Piper's unexpected visit, I mean." She patted her sister's stomach affectionately.

"Just a demon attack," Chris stated without looking up from the book. Paige's features tightened in concern and she tilted her head to fully assess the state of the attic, which she finally seemed to notice was in shambles.

"Is everyone okay?"

"Fine," Chris said, shifting from leg to leg. He felt Paige's eyes on him, and when she gasped, he guessed that she had seen his arm. Piper cleared her throat.

"Hmm, well, all right, back to a normal conversation…" Paige said, changing subjects. "Has Leo been around lately?"

Chris's body went rigid for a moment at the mention of his father's name, and Piper let out a soft exhalation of breath. Phoebe slowly shook her head.

"Not since Chris went all Spiderman on us."

"Oh. Well, maybe he just needs some more time to adjust…"

Chris slammed the book shut, causing all three women to jump as the loud bang resonated throughout the attic. "I'll be back later," he said tightly before disappearing in a flurry of blue lights. Once he was gone, Piper rounded on her youngest sister with a seething glare.

"You just had to bring Leo into this, didn't you?" she growled as she got up and stalked out of the attic.

Paige had the grace to wince as Phoebe gave her a pat on the back, sympathy etched onto her face.

"Not one of your finest moments, sweetie."

"Obviously."

Orbing onto the San Francisco Bridge, Chris scowled as he took a seat, swinging his legs over the edge and letting them dangle as he buried his face in his hands. This was the only place he got to think in peace, and lately, he surmised, he had been coming up there much more frequently than he used to. He could only hope now that Paige wouldn't try to follow him.

Heaving a loud sigh, Chris shook his head, his frustration evident. 'I think telling them who I really am has been the worst mistake I could've made…' he thought angrily, lightly punching a metal support beam.

"Remember, you can't let them know who you are when you get there."

"Just stick to your cover story. The less they know about the future, the better."

Eyes narrowing, Chris gazed out into the night's sky as he heard their voices echo in his head. Suddenly feeling homesick, the witch-whitelighter reached into his pocket and pulled out Bianca's ring. Digging his hand a little deeper, his fingers skimmed over what he was searching for and he seized hold of it and withdrew it from his jeans.

The little silver Triquetra charm sparkled in the light, and Chris couldn't help but tenderly trace the edges of it with his fingertip as a pang of remorse shot through him. 'I should've stuck around longer…checked up on her…made sure she was all right…' he contemplated bitterly.

His conscience emitted a humorless laugh. 'That would've been interesting. And would you have done that before or after your brother tried to incinerate you? Face it; you even attempting to go to the hideout would completely give their position away to Wyatt and it would've been like leading the slaughter to the sheep.'

'He wouldn't hurt her,' Chris disagreed, but he was unable to deny that, even to him, his inner tone sounded ambiguous. On the other hand, part of him was glad that Wyatt had forced him to retreat. If Chris had had the chance, he would've gone straight to the Resistance's fortifications, which would've given Wyatt the lead he'd needed to wipe them out.

'We can only hope,' his conscience replied before it fell silent. Chris re-pocketed his treasures with care and when he'd retracted his hand, his wallet was now in their place. Flipping the aged leather open, he slid out the only thing present inside of it.

The picture was old and faded, the edges worn down from constant handling and the center of it creased. Chris held the photo like it was made of rice paper, being careful not to tear the already brittle material. He stared at it for a long while; slowly reacquainting himself with the faces he held so close to his heart.

One person in particular stood out more than the others, and Chris was instantly drawn to the pair of glittering green eyes that gazed back at him, their depths reflecting the simple innocence of youth as a tiny arm remained lifted in a frozen, exuberant wave, the moment forever left immortalized on the paper. And as he did with the charm, he inattentively ran the pads of his fingers over the photo's surface, tracing the contours of the face he suddenly longed to see.

The nostalgia stabbed at him once more.

Nonetheless, just looking at the photograph made him feel a little better, and he smiled faintly. 'I wonder how she's doing...' he suddenly wondered, and then it struck him; the realization of just how long he'd been away from home. Suddenly, something fissured inside of him, like a dam breaking under the heavy pressure of water, and he felt a familiar presence softly connect with his mind, misting over him like a soothing caress. Chris was startled at first, initially unable to comprehend what was happening to him, as the sensation of someone spontaneously entwining themselves into his thoughts wasn't one he was used to feeling all that often. But, before he knew it, the strange feeling had gone, leaving behind an unusual warmth that spread throughout his body. 'What the...how...?' Chris was confused, but, at that moment, he really didn't care. In fact, on the contrary, he was downright elated.

It had been far, far too long.

And with that thought, Chris put the picture back into his wallet and orbed off the bridge, his chest swelling with the renewed sense of morale he had so desperately needed.