Disclaimer – I don't own anywhere but in my dreams. Let me know what you think. This is one of my first stories and I need input on either a way to go or formatting. Thanks!

CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC

Piper Halliwell thought she had finally achieved a goal she had been striving for over her thirty year job as one of the Charmed Ones. She and her husband Leo had just sat down with their nine year old son Victor, commonly referred to as Tor, to eat a lunch she had slaved away at the stove for hours to make.

Not that she was complaining. She loves cooking and spending time with her family, especially her fourth and youngest who was twelve years younger than the next youngest, who was twenty-one and away at college. Or at least supposed to be.

Piper and Leo were still waiting for that to happen. Something about their daughter finding her room had been turned into an exercise room. Anyway, they had just sat down when the eldest, Wyatt orbed in and said,

"Hey. There's a bit of a problem with a Darklighter. Nobody was hurt or anything but Chris and Trish are, well, nowhere to be found. Trish went to blow up the Darklighter but instead of a simple poof and Chris letting us eat lunch and be done with the pre-lunch demon vanquishing, there was a big explosion and when it cleared Chris Trish and the Darklighter were gone. But no worries, I've got everything under control because if they were dead I would be able to sense it the whole being their big brother thing and I can't sense anything. I just have to figure out where they are."

With that the Twice-Blessed witch nodded and orbed out, most likely to the attic. Piper turned, spluttering to face her husband and youngest son.

"What was that?" Piper directed the question at Tor.

"Why are you asking me? He's your son. When I was born he was sixteen." The boy shrugged.

"But you're his brother." She argued back.

"By the time I could actually talk he was already in college." Tor reminded his mother. She sighed, defeated as her husband smirked.

"Wyatt." She called after him, heading up to the attic, lunch and a normal life distant memories in her mind, having been replaced by worried thoughts of her middle son and only daughter.

CCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCC

Thanks to History Buff 1990 for your advice. Hope this is better. This is one of my first stories up.