Disclaimer: I own nothing except my own ideas!

Thank you all so much for the lovely reviews! I'm so happy to hear you guys like the story!

Updates won't usually come as fast as this, but i had time to edit another chapter, so I decided to do it!

Enjoy, and please keep up the reviews!


The smoke filled Chris' lungs, and the feeling that swept over him was calming and relaxing. The day had been long and since that morning he'd been craving a nice smoke. He sat, back against the stone brick wall under a bridge, eyes watching the children that swung and played on the play-set that sat in the park. He remembered playing on it when he was younger. He and Wyatt used to chase each other around, climbing up ladders and through small tunnels, wearing bright grins and laughing joyfully. His mother would usually sitting on the bench a few feet away from where he sat at that moment, but sometimes it would be his Aunt Phoebe or Paige, or even his father. He didn't have many powers then, spare for orbing--something both he and Wyatt developed rather early in life, causing their parents a lot of stress and grief in the years to come--and his childhood at that time had almost been normal. Magic wasn't such a huge part of his life back then as it was at the moment. Yes, it was still a prominent part, but it wasn't like how it was right then. He was just a carefree, innocent, normal child, who had time to play tag with his brother (even if their form of tag involved orbing to different parts of the city) and wasn't worrying so much about fighting demons.

"Chris," his head snapped in the direction of the call, eyes falling onto a brunette that sat by his side, "you haven't been listening to a word I've said, have you?" She gave him a small smirk as she watched the sides of his lips curl up as he took a drag.

"Nope," he responded, eyes falling onto his other friend, "have you, Landon?" The blonde boy who sat beside him, cradling a hidden bottle of whiskey in his coat pocket, let out a laugh, his long shaggy hair moving back with his head, brushing against his shoulders.

"I've been a little too concentrated on finishing this bottle," he joked, taking a swig of the whiskey, "I believe Zooey was ranting on about your bad habit of chain-smoking, or something related to that."

Landon took another swig and let his head rest against the brick behind them, eyes looking up towards the setting sun before falling back on the playground. Chris remembered that the park was where he had met the now infamous Landon Carraway when he was only five years old. The wild blonde haired boy had been running around energetically up and down ladders and slides when he accidentally bumped into Chris. He had helped the little boy up, before giving him a short apology and a gap filled smile, showing off where his first tooth had fallen out. Landon then asked if he wanted to play a game, and Chris, of course, answered with an excited yes and a whimsical grin. From that day on, the two became inseparable and extremely close. Landon was his best friend, and always would be.

"I was not ranting," Zooey exclaimed with a roll of her eyes as she crossed her arms, "I was merely pointing out facts." She leaned back against the hard brick wall, watching as Landon took another long suck at the bottle.

Chris took a drag and looked over at his friend with a smile, "You're always 'pointing out facts,' Zooey," he teased, swiping the whiskey bottle out of Landon's hand as he held it out towards them, exclaiming, 'Very true, old chap' as he lifted the bottle to toast. Chris took a swig and waiting to let the strong whiskey settle in his stomach before holding it out towards Zooey.

The girl shook her head sternly and held a hand out, "No thanks," she spoke, "I'd rather not get drunk tonight, if you don't mind. I have a recital tomorrow, if you two have already forgotten." She watched as Chris handed the bottle over to Landon, her hand falling onto the undone button of her black peacoat, "You are still coming, right Chris?" She looked up towards her friend as she finished buttoning up, "I know you can't come Landon, your mother doesn't think too fondly of me and Chris."

Landon mumbled a weak, but sincere apology for his mother's antics, before taking another quick and long swig at the mention of the woman. Landon's mother was a very strict, bitter woman, and the kid hated her more than anything. He had once stated that he believed people like her she be made infertile, to save their future offspring from the hell they would be forced to live in.

Zooey looked over to Chris, who greeted her with a smile, "Have I ever missed one of your dance recitals?" he asked, tapping off the ash on the end of his cigarette, still wearing a smirk, "I believe I've been coming to them ever since you started ballet when you were six."

Zooey smiled and crossed her legs, adjusting herself so she could sit up straight, "And I never missed one of your piano recitals."

Chris' expression suddenly changed at the mention of his old hobby, smile falling quickly. He hated to think of how not so long ago, he was still playing the piano and creating pieces while pounding out notes from the keys. He stopped right after the visions started up, and now he could never get himself to play. He was so preoccupied with what the hell was going on with his mind and why he was seeing the things he was that piano just became obsolete to him. He still loved to just sit on the stool and pound on the keys whenever he could escape his visions and family though.

He sucked hard against his cigarette and released the smoke through his nostrils, "That you didn't," the smoke came out of his mouth as well as he spoke. His lips didn't crack a smile though, much to Zooey's displeasure, but he did put out his cigarette, pushing the end hard into the gray cement, "I've got to get home," Chris informed his two friends as he stood up, "it's Friday, and the Halliwell family is having their weekly family dinner."

"Skip it," Landon suggested with a simple tone, taking a swig of whiskey.

"Can't," Chris replied, eyes falling onto Zooey, who had stood up next to him, "I skipped the last one, and my mom gave me hell for it."

Landon let out a laugh, "Piper gave you hell?" he pulled the bottle out once again, some of the whiskey splattering onto the pavement, "You want to get hell, come spend a night at my house and get yelled at by the devil herself." He took a drink and held the bottle up to his friend, "One for the road?"

"Nah," Chris held out his hand, motioning that he was refusing, much to Zooey's surprise. Her lips curled into a smile, happy that her friend had refused a drink; he hardly did that anymore, "I can't come home drunk for a family dinner, that wouldn't go too well with my mom."

"Suit yourself then," Landon said with a shrug, bring the bottle back down to his side, "I'll see you two later," he looked over at Zooey and hoisted up his drink to her, "do me proud at that recital," he told her with a smirk, receiving a sweet smile back from her as he lowered the drink once again.

Once the two were out of earshot from Landon, Zooey quickly started up, tone beaming with excitement and curiosity, "So, I heard that a demon attacked your family this morning," she stuffed her hands in her coat pockets as they continued walking. Chris looked up at her, wearing an annoyed expression, "What?" she asked, "It's not my fault your dad and my dad are friends," she watched as Chris pulled out another cigarette, tempted to grab it from his hands, "they work at the same school."

Chris flicked the thumbwheel of his lighter, trying to produce a flame. His attempt was in vain though, because all he got was a small spark. His was out of fluid. He wanted to smoke, he was really craving a stick bad right then. The fact that Zooey had to bring up the demon attack and as well as the fact that he was heading home to have dinner with his eccentric family really made his addiction kick in.

He suddenly got an idea, and looked up towards Zooey, giving her a pleading expression. She was bemused for a moment, before her eyes caught onto the cigarette that hung from Chris' lips, unlit.

"No," she exclaimed with a shake of her head, "I am not going to help you get lung cancer. I'd like to see you live out a full life, thank you very much."

"Oh, come on, Zooey," Chris rolled his eyes as they turned the corner onto a street lined with houses, "it's just one cigarette, and besides; I'm part whitelighter, which means I'm technically already half dead anyway. What is a little cigarette going to hurt?"

They walked in silence for a moment, Zooey trying to stand her ground. Her eyes fell onto the cigarette that her friend held out her way. He was wearing that stupid grin, because he knew they both already knew what she was going to do. With an irritated sigh, she snatched the cigarette from her friend's hand, "I'm not doing this again," she informed him, pulling them between two house, out of sight from the public eye. After checking to make sure no one was around, she let a burst of orange and yellow flame appear in her hand and she held the end of the cigarette to the flame. Once the thing lit, the flame vanished quick from her palm and she handed the cigarette back to Chris.

They started their way out from between the house, and Chris inhaled and exhaled a hazy cloud of smoke, "You're like a human lighter," Chris teased, taking another drag, "I wish I had that power."

"I thought you hated being a witch?" She jibed with a smirk, crossing her arms.

"I do," Chris admitted after a moment, taking the cigarette out from between his lips and tapping the ash off the end, "especially being the son of a Charmed One and an Ex-Elder, but the powers are somewhat of a plus side, depending on what you get."

"Ah," she held up a finger as she spoke, "but each power starts as a burden until you can control it. Remember when you first got telekinesis? Your mother had to pack up the valuables for months," she gave a small laugh, "Landon and I weren't allowed to see you either. Your parents didn't know when your power would act up, and you told me you hated it and wished for it to go away."

Chris took a drag and nodded. He had hated that power when he first gained it. Being Twice-Blessed had caused for an increase in it's strength, and at times he would cause the whole house to shake. It took him a whole summer to learn how to control it somewhat, and he had hated being locked up in that house, being forced to take lessons with his father and Wyatt. Now, the power came in handy when it came to demons. He had come a long way since he first obtained that power.

"I never understood why you hated being a witch," Zooey went on, watching as Chris gazed her way, exhaling smoke, "I love it. It's such a great thing to be so different from everyone else."

Chris rolled his eyes at his friend. She was so in love with the Wiccan world. She and her father both shared the interest and they both had shelves of books stacked with text on witches and demons and spells. Zooey was an expert when it came to anything Wiccan, and she was always dying to learn more. She knew everything about each major demon coven and even knew everything there was to know about his own family. He always wondered why she had chosen going to a normal high school instead of Magic School. He suspected it had something to do with his decision to try to be a normal teenager. To make up for her lack of a magic oriented school, she forced Chris to come demon hunting with her on a weekly basis. She'd make him orb her straight into a coven of angery, but unsuspecting, demons and fight them all until each and every one that was in the area was vanquished, Chris hated it--he was trying to get away from all that, not orb himself straight into the fight--but he did it for her. She had been one of his best friends since the day he first went to Magic School with his father. They met at day care, and hit it off quick.

"You should love it more than I do," she added, "you're on of the most powerful witches ever to exist."

"Being that powerful and being the offspring of a Charmed One makes everything ten times harder," He told his friend, "Demons are always attacking, the Elder's are watching us with a much closer eye--things are just so much harder for any Charmed child, especially a Twice-Blessed one," Chris looked over towards his friend as he stopped to drop his cigarette on the ground and stomp it out. He paused for a minute, mind still stuck on the odd fact that she loved being so different, before speaking up, "Don't you ever want to just be a normal teenager?" he asked, his friend going wide eyed at the question, "Don't you ever want to have to just worry about normal things like keeping up your grades or finding a boyfriend instead of having to worry about exposing magic or demons attacking at all hours of the day?"

She thought for a moment, before speaking up with a small smile, "I like both the good and the bad parts of being a witch," she told him, "it makes life so much more special and interesting."

The two stopped as they reached the Manor, eyes falling on the red house, "So," Zooey started, wearing a wide grin, "Demon hunt for the demon coven that attacked your family tomorrow after my recital?"

She wore an expression of hope and excitement. Demon hunts were a favorite of hers, and this time she thought maybe Chris would be more willing to go since this demon had attacked him. "There's something very wrong with you, Zooey Daniels," he told her with a smirk.

"Tomorrow around four, then?" she asked, smile still beaming as she waited for an answer.

"Yeah," Chris agreed, taking a step towards the Manor.

"Have fun at your dinner," she called from the sidewalk as he hiked up to the house.

"Hardly likely I will," he replied back as he reached the door, turning to give her one last smile and wave. She laughed and started her way down the road as Chris entered the house.

It was quiet, and all he could hear was the faint clatter of pans and pots being moved about in the kitchen by his mother and the hum of the TV in the family room. His aunts and their family's hadn't arrived yet, thankfully. He had a feeling if he had come into a full house of young witches, running around and yelling and screaming, he would have walked right back out.

He made his way upstairs and into his room. He was tried, which wasn't an uncommon thing for him. Actually, it had become somewhat of a normal feeling for him lately. Ever since those visions started a little over eight months ago, his sleeping patterns had gone a little whack. Things weren't so bad at first; the visions had started out as simple, dream-like flashes of his life. He had had some dreams of a little other him running around and playing tag with Wyatt, very similar to when he and Wyatt used to play in real life, and others about his father missing a few birthday parties. His other self seemed to hate his dad with a passion, and had taken up to calling him by first name. As the months went on, though, his visions started to shift way away from reality, and he started feeling the small sting of pain when his other self got injured. Those pains and darker visions started to wake him up more, not allowing him to get a good nights rest.

Chris plopped down onto his bed and adjusted his body until he was in a comfortable position. The pains in his dreams had lately changed from small stings to completely excruciating. He was starting to get worried. He didn't know what was going to happen next and he didn't know why he was even seeing these things. Maybe the Elder's were messing with him or something, he had never trusted those damn fools anyway. They always seemed to like to cause pain for him and his family.

This is why he hated being a witch. He would be able to deal with these hallucinations or whatever if he could label it with the obvious, normal explanation of crazy, but being a witch tended to always rule that out. Some annoying, magical thing was behind this, screwing with him just for the purpose of causing him pain.

And that was another reason why he hated magic: it always liked to find ways to screw with you and drive you mad.

Chris slowly started to drift off; the warm, comforting feel of his bed grabbing him into unconsciousness. His mind quickly pushed thoughts of magic aside, and within seconds, he was fast asleep.


Thank you all so much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!

I'll try to get the next chapter up soon, and I'll continue on writing it as much as I can. I'm trying to spilt my time writing both this story and the sequel to At Death, A Proclamation.

In the meantime though, please keep up with the reviews! I appreciate them all so much, and I love to hear that so many people like the story!

Thanks again for reading and hopefully reviewing!

:)