This is my first Charmed story and I LOVE! Chris, but just something about Bianca and her charator didn't fit with me in the love interest for Chris. Hence the story. It takes place after "Chris-Crossed" but with my added twists and I DON'T OWN CHARMED OR CHRIS. I do onw Chris's love interest and the plot.

Note - In my story, White lighters and others in the unchanged future view mortals as weak. Anyway I hope you enjoy.

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A scream tore through the empty, cold, clattered back room of P3. Deep emerald eyes snapped open to more darkness….the same deep void in his nightmare. Sweat dripped down his back, his thin white shirt clinging to his body as a shiver crawled down his spine. The harsh beat of his heart slowed into a normal rhythm and his head ached grew back into the normal dulled ach; the same he felt every waking moment. His hands ran through his brunette hair in a frustrated fashion.

Twisting in his seat, he turned on the small lamp next to the made shift bed of a couch and a few discarded dumpster blankets. Squinting his eyes against the harsh light, he saw the time and cursed under his breath. Not for the first time, he felt like a small child, but he refused to call out for any help…it never came anyway. Looking at the door, he heard a distant voice calling his name; a familiar silhouette cast upon the open door, before it vanished. Cursing once more, he grabbed his jacket and stormed out of the room into the empty club.

Even in the pitch blankness, he knew every shadow, every corner, and every scent. Yes, he knew every inch of P3 from his youth and even from when it had turned into the headquarters for the resistance in the terrified future, a future ruled by his older, demon, dictator of a brother. The damned twice blessed child, thought to be the greatest good. Of course, Chris was in the past and that monster was still a toddler, innocent of any wrong in the world.

Yet each time, he saw the child he had to fight the urge to simple to vanish him. Only her words stopped him; her voice calmed his angry and kept his mind focused on the task at hand; to change the future and change their future so the world could be saved. Chris slammed his hand down the bar table, for no matter what he did…even in a changed future, a better future, he would loose her. Within the silence of the club, he felt her presence around him; even in the future he sensed her and felt her emotions above all his other charges and the others of the resistance.

Bending over the counter, he slid his hand into a secret compartment and fingered his most treasured and damned item of his life. It was a simple silver ring, no jewel in the middle or any engraving on the inside; it was simple and perfect promise ring. Even without the Elders interference, a true engagement was too risky to ask. Chris fingered the small ring and shook his head; cries of unbearable pain began to circle within his ears.

His family, the great Halliwells, the power of three, was so oblivious to everything except their own petty "searches for their normal lives", that he almost saw how easily Wyatt had taken over. It had taken four months for them to except that their precious son and nephew could be an even greater evil than the Source.

Chris remembered the talks he had with his father in the future. After Piper had died at the hands of her eldest son, his father had taken a fourteen year old Chris up and trained him in the ways of a true white lighter to protect witches and the few mortals destined to become future guardian angels. However, one rule was above everything, no mortal love.

White lighters were not assigned to normal humans and thus it would be in possible to have a relationship, plus it was forbidden by the Elders. Yet under Wyatt's rule, everyone was an equal, a helpless victim and prey for Wyatt to enjoy in the cruelest of torture and then a slow, sometimes month long death. Mortals, white lighters and other magical folk alike were under that threat and no one was safe.

Tears prickled his eyes as he caught a glimpse of the time, 3:00am. The last time he had heard her voice before he left.

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"Chris, you have too," she whispered as she leaned against him.

Her arms were wrapped securely around his neck. Sitting upon his lap, she lowered his head and rested it against his shoulder, breathing in his scent. The scent was unnamed, but it was his and she loved it, just as much as he loved him. Chris combed his fingers through her darkened blonde locks in a soothing motion, even to calm his own nerves. Just beyond the door, the sound of the restful members of the resistance tried in vain to sleep, each second seemed to drag on with urgency, even through Chris had reassured them all over a million times that the plan would work. But now alone with her, he felt his own terror and uncertainty building within his chest.

Resting his head on top of hers, he muttered, "I can't leave you."

His companion remained silent and simply squeezed him tighter. Righting herself, she stared deep into his emerald gaze through her own soft brown ones.

"You have to, just like you have to keep up appearances with Bianca…for us," she whispered.

"Why" Chris asked, like a five year old. The girl sighed deeply and started to shift her position to get up, but he secured his grip around her waist.

"Ally, please I love you and I hate pretending…it hurts me to see you in pain."

"I'm not," she tried to protest, but Chris caressed her face gingerly.

"Shh, you don't have to be brave….that's my job-"

"Chris, please….it's just….I'm," she shook her head, "I'm nothing you need or deserve."

Instantly, his gripped tightened even more and he pulled her closer to him, kissing her forehead tenderly. It killed him to hear her say such things; he knew each time she saw him with Bianca, she felt unworthy of him. Under his touch, he felt her sob into his chest as he rubbed her back. Only with him, did she ever show her fear, sorrow, and pain….as he was her protector. He muttered soothing words into her ear, and gradually her tears subsided and she pulled away from him, embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, I know she's better for you anyway," Ally muttered.

His left hand released her waist and tilted her chin up to his eyes. "Allyson," he brushed away a tear from her cheek, "no, I care about you."

"Isn't that against the rules?" Allyson asked in a helpless attempt to lighten the mood.

Chris smirked and shook his head. "Yes, but screw the rules. I love you to much….be careful."

"You too," she muttered, her lips brushing against his.

He pressed his lips tenderly against hers, his fingers running through her soft hair.

Breaking for air, he whispered, "get some sleep."

In the dimness, she nodded and kissed him once more. Sliding off his lap, she wished him a good night and silently slipped back out into the main club area; a place where every single person solely depended upon him.

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Chris sucked back tears. He remembered for his plan to work, he had slipped out shortly after Serena had left him alone. He couldn't bear to see her the next morning; the courage to leave for the mission would've vanished from a single look from her. His hands balled into fists, the simple ring cutting into his palm. Through the light cast from within his room, something sparkled off in the corner almost completely covered in darkness.

It was the proposed ring, he used with Bianca to mislead Wyatt. No one, not eve in the resistance new of the mortal love he craved above everything. The plan had seemed to work perfectly and the two were close, like brother and sister, but nothing else. In a rage, he sent the engagement ring deeper into the club depths and heard it trickle down into the gutter.

"Damn it," he cursed under his breath, his throat aching as he swallowed more tears.

He felt his body weighing down as his heart raced. With each second, the heavy, cruel reality washed over him; he was stuck in the past without anyway to help those he had left behind. Even without his Aunt Phoebe's empathy powers, he knew that the sisters didn't completely trust him…and they were right, despite Wyatt being his older brother, a new determination and loathing had crept into Chris's heart. His last trip to the future with Bianca had showed Wyatt as the true monster.

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"Welcome home Chris," a low booming voice called out from behind a row of his more faithful demons.

The small group separated and let their leader pass through. Chris remained silent; his back stiffening from habit.

Wyatt smirked slightly and shook his head. "Why Chris? Of all people to betrayal me"

"I didn't go back to betray you, Wyatt. I went back to save you from whatever evil that turned you," Chris explained.

"That's always been your problem Chris, still stuck in the good vs. evil days," Wyatt rolled his eyes, "it's so childish."

Chris remained silent, fighting the urge to lash out at him, but with his powers stripped it would be suicide.

Wyatt smirked and shook his head. "You talk about betraying, little bro. haven't you betrayed the entire magical world….even Mom and Dad?"

"No," he said simply.

Wyatt made a single gesture and Chris fall to the ground frozen except for his head and mouth. Bianca kneeled down next to him, but Chris's gaze was solely locked on his brother. Wyatt smirked and waved his hand behind him. Allyson appeared behind him; her wrists cut from the tight ropes. The soft hair was burned to her shoulders and her eyes seemed glazed over as though she didn't see him. Only a simple white dress covered her fragile body. It took a few seconds, but Chris saw through her clothing to her core; the fabric damp and transparent as a shiver crawled down her spine. He screamed her name, but she didn't respond. Snapping his head around, he yelled, "Wyatt, what the hell did you do to her?"

Wyatt smirked and yanked on her hair until she stood beside him, his strong arm wrapped harshly around her waist. He bent down and brushed his lips against her hair and smirked.

"Simply enjoyed her, something you would never have the guts to do. Of course," he sighed almost in frustration, "she had to be taught a lesson or two; there was only so much I could take of her crying out your name."

Without another world, he dipped her low and kissed her, his lips crushing over hers as he pressed her against his lower body. After a few moments, she collapsed onto the ground as Wyatt straightened himself. Whipping his mouth, he spit at his younger brother.

"She tastes of your blood brother, a blood connection no doubt. How ever simple and disgusting with this slut…of all the women and magical creatures begging for you, you choice a simple mortal Bitch for a whore and lover."

With one gesture, Chris felt his body free and fall back under his control. Jumping to his feet, he shouted, "You leave her alone, Bastard."

Chris ran over to her, but was flung across the room and the battle began.

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Chris leaned back in the chair; tears rolling down his cheeks. Sleep was weighing on his eyelids, but he fought to keep them open. For each time he closed his eyes, he saw those lifeless doe brown eyes flicker with the last moment of life. A single spark of recollection over the shear pain of the torture; he had felt it too. It was a simple low voltage energy ball, but for a mortal, it felt like twenty million daggers tarring you apart; each volt held the heat of a small oven burn. He fought to keep it together, only his own blood kept him able to think through the pain. The blood connection between him and Allyson connected them in every way, except in intimacy in bed. Even through the hell of the future, she had remained pure and had wanted to remain that way until it was safe to be with him. But Wyatt had destroyed her innocence and only though her last word to tell him to go, allowed to to travel back to the past.

Chris cursed and orbed out and onto the Golden Park Bridge. The air cut through him, the world below, passing him by without a single thought. Alone and above the world, he finally broke down. Bianca had been killed trying to have him, but his blood and body belonged to another. Another who would never see the future she had craved and wished for. Chris starred up at the darkness and felt his heart break as her presence wrapped around. Her voice whispering his name upon the wind.

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I hope you enjoyed it. The blood connection was like the "brotherhood" that Cole belonged too. Each person slicing their finger and then the clasping hands and when done with love, it can be so, so,so,so,so,so much more powerful. Ok, I made that up, but I've always felt that "blood" can connect people in a since, like family blood. So I hope you enjoyed and please reveiw. THANKS!