Continuity note: The timeline here is all screwed up, but knowingly so. Trying to place this at a specific time in Season 6 is pointless, as I've kind of rearranged things so much it wouldn't make sense anyway. Just know this: Piper is approximately seven months pregnant (the exact time doesn't matter). Though the girls know who Chris is, they don't know that Wyatt is the future evil that Chris is trying to prevent. Leo doesn't factor into the story, as he hasn't discovered Piper's pregnancy yet. Magic School's existence is known. I think that about covers all the must-knows.

For as long as Phoebe could remember, Piper had been an unstoppable force of nature. True, she'd settled comfortably into the mediating middle sister role for much of her life, but as she worked through her grief for their older sister Prue, Piper assumed the mantle of Head Bitch in Charge. Phoebe imagined there were capital letters involved and everything. Most of the time, Phoebe didn't mind. Sometimes she could even let herself pretend that Prue was still alive and issuing orders to everyone around her, stubbornly refusing to give an inch on any position she took. That same resolute determination had also gotten the Charmed Ones out of a number of battles that they might not have escaped otherwise.

But right about now, Phoebe was one more snappy remark shy of writing a spell that would force that stubbornness right out of her sister.

She watched, deeply frustrated, as Piper continued gathering up bottles of potion ingredients despite Phoebe's increasingly vocal pleas for her to stop. At seven months pregnant, Piper was already having trouble moving around on her own. Life as a Charmed One was dangerous enough without her running the additional risk of going on demon hunts. Even Chris's fussing, as simultaneously annoying and hilarious as Phoebe found it, wasn't enough to deter Piper. "I didn't just sit around knitting booties when I was pregnant with Wyatt, so I'm not gonna do it now with Chris, either," she'd griped at one point before pushing her way through the human barrier Phoebe and Chris had both made in the attic doorway. "Besides," she reasoned, "Chris is still here, so obviously nothing happens to me while I'm pregnant."

"The past can change, Piper," Phoebe scolded, not even needing to look beside her to know Chris was rolling his eyes so hard he could practically see the back of his skull. "Otherwise, he wouldn't even be here."

"Hi, remember me? Can you two quit talking like I'm not even here?" Chris whined, offended, only to have both sisters wheel on him.

"Hey. You watch how you talk to us, young man," Piper ordered with a firm nod. Chris looked uneasily between the two of them before shrugging an apology and muttering something about going to find Paige and orbing out of the attic. "And you." Phoebe turned back to face Piper, expression going perfectly innocent. "You are not my babysitter."

"No, but as one of your midwives, I think –"

"Whoa," Piper interrupted, eyes bulging as she nearly dropped an entire handful of wormwood root into the cauldron. "What part of 'I want a real hospital with real doctors and lots and lots of real drugs' don't you get? 'Cause I can make a chart, if you need one."

"Oh, come on. You had a home birth last time—"

"Not by choice!"

"And it turned out fine."

Piper's eyes narrowed to dangerously thin slits. "Phoebe, I gave birth to my child on the dining room table."

"Well . . . well, yeah, but . . ." Phoebe trailed off, hands flapping helplessly while her mind raced with a counterpoint. Oh, right. "Hey, that brings up another good point: Wyatt orbed when he was born, remember?" Piper's eyes somehow narrowed farther; uh, yeah, dumb question. She remembered. "Do you really want to explain that to a doctor when he tries to deliver Chris?"

"So I'll . . . I don't know, cast an anti-orbing spell before going into labor and then just reverse it once Chris is born. Is there a point to any of this?"

"Yes," Phoebe answered through gritted teeth, exasperated. "My point is that . . . actually, it's not related to the whole midwife thing, which I really think you should reconsider, by the way. Before you got me sidetracked, I was trying to make you understand what a very, very, very bad idea it is for you to keep going after demons." Piper glanced up, supremely annoyed, and Phoebe hurried on before Piper could speak. "No, listen. You're under a lot of stress right now, a lot more even than last time. Now you have to take care of Wyatt, you're worried about whatever it is that gets to him in Chris's future, you've got your adult son hanging around being a raging paranoid, Paige and I are trying to live our own lives away from the Manor, and let's not even get started about Leo."

"No, let's not," Piper agreed while shooting another weary look at Phoebe. The younger sister, in turn, wrapped her arm around Piper's shoulders and led her over to one of the old couches stashed in the attic.

"Give yourself a break, Piper. That's all I'm saying. Between Paige, Chris, and me, we can pretty much handle anything. If we get into trouble or we absolutely need the Power of Three, we'll let you know. Until then? You, missy, are officially on wiccan sabbatical."

Having no other response, Piper blew a raspberry in obvious distaste, leading Phoebe to snicker and reach over to pat her sister's bulging stomach, earning herself another scornful glare in the process.

"And if she tries to get by us, mini-Chris, you go right on ahead and orb her back to safety."

"I don't think he has any powers yet."

"Maybe not, but he could—"

Phoebe's words cut off abruptly as she found herself thrown into a terrifyingly vivid premonition. A young man dangled from the ceiling, suspended by his arms pulled taut over his head and held in place by rusted shackles around his wrists. His bare upper body was streaked with blood, skin mottled with ugly gashes and bruises, and his plain black trousers hung in tatters from his too-prominent hips. His already dark hair was matted with blood and plastered to his head. From the vision's perspective, Phoebe could only see the boy from behind; that was more than enough to show her the deep gouges racing across his back, evidence of whiplashing both old and new.

Unable to pull out of the vision, Phoebe pressed on, her empathic ability kicking in to make her feel the pain in addition to simply noticing it. It wasn't all physical. Yes, she could feel broken bones; her wrists ached in phantom pains from the shackles, and her breathing grew labored from the pressure of who knew how many broken ribs. The cuts ached enough on their own, made worse when beads of sweat rolled into the wounds to burn like acid. But more than that, there was an overwhelming sense of fear, despair, and an intense combination of emotions that was somehow both the most enduring love and the most sincere hate at once. Unbidden, Cole's face flashed before her eyes, a ghostly image that disappeared as quickly as it came.

Gasping, Phoebe fell back against the couch, trembling violently and blinking rapidly in an effort to remind herself that she was safe. Dimly, as though trapped underwater, she heard Piper's voice calling to her.

"Phoebe?" Piper asked worriedly, her expression betraying every bit of fear coursing through her. "Phoebe, what the hell just happened?"

"I . . . I don't know," Phoebe breathed when she was finally able to speak again, her words coming out in choking gasps for air. "I was fine, and then I just, I had a premonition . . ."

"While touching me," Piper supplied warily, eyes widening. "Oh, God. Chris."

"No, no, no, it wasn't – I don't think so," Phoebe hastened to reassure her sister, swallowing hard past the bile she could feel in her throat even when she wasn't sure if it was hers or if it belonged to the person in her vision. She wasn't at all certain, but she forced a convincingly brave face for Piper's benefit. "I think I just saw one of Chris's charges."

"What? That's ridiculous. He's not a full Whitelighter, he doesn't have charges."

"That's not true. Leo said he had that other one a few months ago. What was her name? Natalie?"

Clearly still dubious, Piper pursed her lips and scowled, but eventually relented enough to add, "If you saw something happen to one of the boys, I swear to God, Phoebe, you'd better tell me."

"If I did, I would," Phoebe answered with a faint smile she didn't especially feel. That much, at least, was true. She had received random premonitions before, only loosely related (if at all) to whatever she happened to be touching at the time. Maybe her powers were growing. Whatever it was, she was going to get to the bottom of it – and soon.

"Why don't you finish up that vanquishing potion and then go hang out in the den with Wyatt, have a movie date?" Phoebe offered with false cheerfulness. "I'll go help Paige and Chris with the Vhuli demons, we'll figure out what's going on with that premonition, and then we'll fill you in on what we find out, okay?"

"You had so better not be blowing me off."

"Never." Phoebe allowed a much more honest smile this time as she leaned over to press a quick kiss to the side of Piper's head and then got up to exit the attic as quickly as she could without rousing suspicion. Still dazed and shaking with frayed nerves, she headed downstairs to the kitchen, mindlessly peeling an orange while she leaned against the counter and fought the urge to replay the premonition in her mind, as though it wasn't already burned into her psyche.

"Hey. Any luck talking some sense into Piper?"

Phoebe jumped, startled when Chris and Paige unexpectedly orbed into the kitchen. "Holy—am I really the only person in this house who still uses the door?" To his credit, Chris at least pretended to look slightly apologetic; Paige just nodded in apparent agreement without a trace of irony. "And you know what? It wouldn't kill you to call her Mom."

"This is all very exciting and everything, but I can listen to you two bitch at each other any time I want. Is that all you wanted? 'Cause, uh, that's nice for you, but I'm having dinner with Richard tonight and—"

"Cancel," Chris interrupted, barely even glancing at Paige and thereby missing the tremendously offended look she gave him in return. "You've got more important things to worry about right now."

"Oh, right. Mystery demon number . . . what is it now? Five hundred and sixty-two?"

Chris shot a withering glare at Paige, looking like nothing so much as the perfect mixture of Piper and Prue, making Phoebe wonder for the millionth time how none of them had figured him out earlier. There was so much of each of them in him, from Prue's ambition and work ethic, Piper's sarcasm and need to fix everything, Paige's youthful optimism and creativity, even Phoebe's own fierce devotion to her family and willingness to sacrifice everything for her loved ones.

"Funny. Phoebe . . .?" Chris led, clearly wanting to change the subject. Phoebe whipped back around to face him, face blank enough to prompt an impatient sigh. "Piper. Mom," he corrected, rolling his eyes at himself when he caught the disapproving look on Phoebe's face. "Where are we with getting her to sit this one out?"

"Yeah, about that. Chris, can we talk?"

"Later. I can't deal with playing Charmed One pitch-hitter while having to worry about something happening to Mom and the mini-me, too." Chris pulled up short then, mouth working silently for a second or two as his eyes darted from one aunt to the other. "Uh, not that I want anything to happen to you guys either, obviously. Just. You know."

"I think I got through to her," Phoebe answered at last, much to Chris's relief. "And if I didn't, well, if you and Paige take off without her, she can't really tag along anyway, right?"

"Unless she calls for Leo," Paige pointed out helpfully, earning herself a reproachful look from the other two. "What? I mean, they are technically still married, right?"

"No calling Leo. Piper doesn't want him to know about the . . . rutabaga."

"The what?" Chris asked, brow creasing, earning dismissive hand waves from both women. Not surprisingly, he remained confused. "No, seriously. Did you just call me a vegetable?"

"Long story. Paige, why don't you go upstairs and help out with the potion? I need to have a little chat with our darling nephew here."

"That's creepy," Chris and Paige answered as one, giving each other vaguely amused looks before Paige disappeared in a blue and white cloud of orbs and ascended out of view.

No sooner had she disappeared than Phoebe grabbed onto Chris's shirt sleeve, leading him out onto the sun porch. He sat down on the wicker loveseat and watched as she paced in a tight, nervous line, back and forth, back and forth.

"Wanna tell me what's going on?"

Phoebe stopped suddenly and turned on him, her face drawn and her hands carefully folded in on themselves to keep him from noticing that she'd been chewing on her nails. That was another shared personality trait she should have picked up in him long before she did. "Do you have any other charges?"

"Why? You think I'm cheating on you guys?" Chris asked with a faint hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Trust me. You're more than enough for me to handle."

Tipping her head to the side, Phoebe pursed her lips and regarded Chris with a wrinkled nose. "Okay, now that's creepy. And totally not what I meant. No, I just – I got a premonition while you were gone."

All traces of humor immediately vanished from Chris's face, and it was back to business as usual. "What? When? Did you see a demon?"

"I don't think so. Someone—a man—was being tortured. It looked like it was in some kind of, I don't know, some kind of dungeon or something. It was bad. Like, really bad." Phoebe took a steadying breath, and it wasn't lost on her how Chris's face darkened considerably with every word that left her lips. "Maybe it sounds cold, but I'd rather think it was someone else and not you."

Something intense and unmistakably dangerous flashed through Chris's eyes, alarming Phoebe into taking an involuntary step backwards. "It probably is."

"And what if it's not?"

"Then we'll deal with it later."

"Chris, this is important!"

"Yeah, well, so is going after those demons. They could be—"

"The ones who get to Wyatt," Phoebe cut him off, chasing him as he headed toward the stairs to get away from the discussion. "Chris. Chris, look at me. You can't keep running yourself ragged like this. You're so focused on saving Wyatt, and I respect that. I really do. I'd do anything for my sisters, so I get where you're coming from. But you have to take care of yourself, too. You're the future's last best hope, remember?" she asked, purposefully appealing to his martyr side that was such an integral part of his mother's personality and something he appeared to have inherited in full.

"Besides," she continued now that she had Chris on the defensive, the textbook definition of deer-in-headlights as he stared at her like he didn't know who she was or what she was saying. Maybe this was the first time in a long time, possibly ever, that anyone had ever given him permission to relax or at least put his own needs first, and that was just too depressing to even consider. What had happened in the future, she wondered? Where were his parents? Where was she? Paige? Her father? Where had anyone been when this young man, this boy, had needed them? When had they failed him?

"I love Wyatt and all of us are grateful for what you're doing, but you're my nephew, too. And you can ask Piper: I seem to get really protective of her kids," Phoebe said quietly, reaching up to cup the side of Chris's face and brush her thumb over his cheek. For a moment, Chris seemed to shift, leaning ever so imperceptibly into her touch. There was another wave of darkness that passed over his face, clouding his normally vibrant green eyes – Prue's eyes, Phoebe noticed – and for the briefest of seconds Phoebe thought he was actually going to open up to her.

"I'm gonna go check on Piper and Paige."

Before she could protest, Chris orbed away and left Phoebe grasping air the way she so often did anytime she tried to reach her taciturn nephew.