Chris tossed and turned, getting tangled in his sheets. His mind was full of images of decaying buildings, and the air was thick with the smell of dark magic. He was hiding among rubble, watching some demons toy with some low level witches. The sight boiled his blood and made him want to attack.

One of the demons raised their hand; getting bored with their joke, and made an energy ball appear in his palm.

The Halliwell witch rushed out of his hiding spot and attacked the demons. He stopped the energy ball in mid air and rebounded it on the demon that created it. He threw the other two into the remainder of a wall. Out of his jacket pocket he pulled out two vials of potions and threw them at the demons. The two witches the demons had been torturing teleported out after giving Chris a look, clearly saying thanks. Before he could follow their example he heard dark orbs behind him. He turned to find Wyatt standing before him.

"Hello, little brother," growled the dark witch before back handing Chris and sending him flying. "Are you going to make me kill you?"

"If that's what it takes for me to save you," Chris retorted, stumbling to his feet. He mastered up his energy and sent Wyatt flying in return.

With a snarl the older brother jumped to his feet. "I'm really getting sick of you, Chris. And don't bother calling for dad to save you, he'll never come. You're a mistake."

"Really? Could have sworn it was you!" At the sharp voice, both males looked at the witch standing there. "Now, don't threaten my husband." Out of no where, a storm appeared and lightning struck at Wyatt's feet as the woman flicked her fingers and singed his arm, not having enough power to blow it up. The attack made Wyatt turn away and put his shield up. The mysterious woman ran to Chris but not before Wyatt threw an energy ball at her, getting her in the arm. "Come on, Chris, let's get out of here."

With the girl ignoring her own pain and supporting Chris, the male witch orbed out, leaving his older brother to scream in frustration.

He woke with a gasp, covered in cold sweat. "Dad!" he screamed. Within seconds his father burst through the door, looking terrified.

"Chris! Chris, are you alright? What happened?" Leo panicked, grabbing his son's shoulders, looking at his pale face.

"He attacked her! He tried to kill her! How could he?" Chris rambled, tears streaming down his face.

Piper and Wyatt ran into the room, worried about Chris. Upon seeing his older brother, Chris launched out of bed, tackling Wyatt and punching him in the face. "You tried to kill her! How dare you? She was my wife." The teen dissolved into tears, loosing his fire. He dropped his head onto Wyatt's chest. "She was my wife."

Leo walked over to his sons and pulled Chris to his feet, hugging him. "Chris, it hasn't happened. Wyatt is good, remember?"

It took a moment to calm Chris down, but when he did, they walked him down stairs. Once they were sitting on the lounge and Piper had made him some chamomile tea, they got him to talk about the dream.

"I can't even picture her face, or her name, but I know she was the one that made me believe I loved Bianca. She had projection power. When we ran into Bianca it had only just advanced into her not having to write down the thing first. She project Bianca into thinking she's good and friends with us, but she went off her own feelings for me, and tried to lower it to friendship. She didn't succeed and Bianca fell in love with me. I hated it and Bianca till she cast the same magic on me when something happened to her. But she overcharged me too."

"Is that what you saw?" Leo asked.

"No. I saw three demons toying with two witches. I stopped them from killing the witches but Wyatt... the dark Wyatt appeared and attacked me. Wyatt was threatening to kill me when she appeared. She projected lightning, I saw her with a piece of paper, with attacks on it. Wyatt hit her with an energy ball. He tried to kill her. She said I was her husband."

"You know it wasn't our Wyatt, don't you?" Piper questioned.

"I'd never do that!" Wyatt looked sick at the idea of him hurting his brother, and his brother's love.

"I know it wasn't our Wyatt but I couldn't get the image out of my head when he walked in. The dream was so real. I could feel how I felt for her. She always made me feel safe even when we were in danger. She could always find something good in dark situations, and she was... different. She laughed at awkward situations 'cause... she just loved to laugh."

"You truly love her? Don't you?" Piper asked, looking at her son.

"I met her when I was fourteen. She had lost a sister and she wanted to kill the demon. We were after the same one. By seventeen... we were married." Chris tilted his head to one side and frowned. "One thing I don't get is she had your power, mum, to explode, but she couldn't project that and it's not one of her powers... so how'd she do that?"

"Chris, I know this isn't a question you want your mother asking, but had you slept with your wife?"

The witch thought about it for a minute before shrugging. "Probably. She was my wife and we were eighteen in that memory. You think she was pregnant? I didn't get a good look at her stomach but that would explain her having your power and why I was so pissed she was attacked. She had been hurt worse and I hadn't felt that angry then."

Just then, someone knocked on the door before opening it. "Hello?" they called. The group recognized Phoebe's voice, so Piper yelled for her to come in. The moment she walked in with her daughters she grabbed her chest, gasped and looked near tears. "Oh god, Chris, what happened?"

"He had a memory of me attacking his wife," Wyatt bitterly told her.

"No! Wyatt, it was not you! You are a different person," Piper forcefully said. She knew that Wyatt had trouble with the alternate timeline.

"She's right, Wyatt, you're good, you would die before hurting your family," Phoebe agreed with her older sister.

"Me on the other hand," Chris said in a weak, but joking voice. "I hit you, a lot."

"You were upset about your wife, it's understandable." Wyatt clapped Chris on the back and smiled brotherly. "You must have loved her a lot."

The younger witch looked solemn. "I don't remember." He roared with frustration. "This SUCKS! I CAN'T REMEMBER HER FACE, OR HER NAME, HOW WE MET OR EVEN HER VOICE, ANYTHING!"

"Aaarrr," Joy groaned, holding her head, "Chris, you just gave me an emotional overload." She unfortunately, had her mother's empathy power. She was the second child and looked like Melinda Warren in appearance.

Chris tried to calm down but couldn't until he was paralysed by another memory.

He was at P3, but it was run down and slightly dilapidated. There was a bonfire in a drum off to the side with witches around it that provided light. There was a net of fairy magic above them, protecting them from dark magic. Chris was seeing through his own eyes so when he looked in a broken mirror near the bar, he saw that he was eighteen and looked pale and shaky. The older Chris took a deep breath and then a large smile appeared on his face, tears in his green eyes. He looked happier then the alternate Chris had ever been. Turning away from the mirror he headed towards a room that did not exist in the present day P3. It had magically made walls, off the side where the stage used to be.

He opened the door quietly, slipping inside and closing it. Lying on a bed, propped up on her side by pillows was a sleeping figure. Chris walked over to the bed and crouched down beside the girl, giving her a kiss on the lips. She woke quickly, but gently.

"Hi." She smiled. The moment she spoke, her voice was forgotten by him.

"How are you feeling?" Chris asked, his voice soaked with emotion.

"Tired!" As though proof, she dropped her head back down on the pillow, her eyes struggling to stay open.

The young Halliwell chuckled. "Yeah, well, child birth will do that to you. How is our little girl?"

The two looked over at a baby laying on the other side of the bed, looking around the room curiously.

"She's gorgeous, and powerful." Tears started falling down the woman's face. "We have to keep Wyatt away from her. I will kill him if he tries to touch her."

"Don't worry, I'll stop him too," promised Chris, pushing a strand of hair off of his wife's face.

Their daughter gave a strangled cry, making Chris stand up and walk around the bed, picking the baby up and sitting on the bed, allowing the female witch to turn and cuddle into him.

"She still needs a name," the father stated.

"Well she has your mother's powers so I was thinking..."

"No!" Chris cut in. "I can't name her Piper, it's to hard."

"Babe, I was going to say her middle name could be Piper. I wouldn't ask you to remember loosing your mother whenever you say your daughter's name." Chris' wife stroked their baby's head.

At that moment the eighteen-year-old female shivered. Chris tried to pull the blanket up from around her knees but couldn't reach without squishing their daughter. But before the new mother could do it, it orbed over her.

"Thanks."

"Don't thank me, she did it."

"My little whitelighter."

Chris looked as though he just had an idea. "Paige!"

"Huh?"

"Paige. We can call her Paige Piper." Chris smiled at his wife who smiled back and nodded.

"Knock, knock," someone called through the door.

"Come in," the eighteen-year-old mother said

"Yeah, Aunt Phoebe," agreed the teen whitelighter/witch. "Come meet Paige Piper Halliwell."

Chris pulled out of the memory and immediately forgot the sound of his wife's voice, the structure of her face, even the way she smelt. It took him a minute to register where he was and who was with him.

"Sweetie, what did you see?" Piper asked.

"I saw... my daughter," confessed Chris, smiling.

"Really?" squealed Patty, Phoebe's youngest. "What did she look like? How old was she?"

"She was beautiful and barely a day old. Her name was Paige Piper Halliwell."

Piper smiled at her son and pushed back tears. "Did you get anything about your wife?"

Chris dropped his head. "No, except... I just felt how much I cared for her. She was the only thing that made living worth it. We lived at P3 which was dilapidated and there were a handful of good witches hiding out there. I think there were rooms made by magic, and there was fairy magic protecting us."

"How about I make you something for lunch?" Piper questioned, trying to find a way to comfort her son.

Chris nodded mutely as Patty gave him a hug. She looked like a miniature Phoebe but had a calming tone that was from her father and his magic abilities. The young, male Halliwell seemed to be off in his own little world, trying to understand what had appeared in his head.

With a sigh, Chris ran through his lengthened hair, dropping his head. Phoebe looked at him in concern. "You going to be okay?"

"I... don't know," confessed the young teen. "I just wish they didn't come in fragments. If I got them in chunks, or at least in chronological order, I'd be fine. Or at least a little better."

"There might be a reason you're getting them like this," Joy, ever the optimist, said with a smile.

"Lets hope," agreed Chris.

"Hey, you need cheering up, lets play games," Wyatt said in a voice he tried to make cheerful, though it didn't quite work as he threw a remote control at his younger brother.

Chris caught it and thanked his brother. They put on a two player game and the girls watched the boys play. As they played the three other witches gave Chris ideas as to how he could organise his memories.

"You could write them in a journey," suggested Joy.

"Or record them," added Wyatt. "More manly."

"What about a spell?" said Patty in a quiet, timid voice.

Chris looked at her in shock, making him die on the game.

"Yes! I win!" declared Wyatt before noticing that Chris wasn't paying attention.

"Patty, you're a genius," yelped Chris, jumping up and hugging his cousin.

"Lunch is ready!" yelled Piper from the kitchen. All four teens ran into the kitchen, Chris grinning. "Why are you so happy?" his mother asked.

"Patty just gave me the idea to cast a spell to get the memories in order so they're less confusing," explained Chris with joy.

Piper thought about it a moment before replying, "Alright, but after lunch and ask Phoebe to help you word it so there is no personal gain."

"Alright," agreed Chris before they walked into the kitchen.