Heaven Help Us
By
xXx MissHaun†ed-MoonLigh† xXx

----------------------

Disclaimer: I still own nothing.

-----------------------------------------------------------

You don't know a thing about my sins,
How the misery begins.
You don't know,
So I'm burning, I'm burning.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Phoebe sighed heavily, roughly shifting tins and jars containing strange herbs and ready-made potions around within the cupboard, as she searched for the one she was looking for.

"Aha, gotcha," she declared triumphantly to the empty kitchen, shivering slightly as her voice reverberated around the room.

The thick and consuming silence was creeping her out.

Too silent.

It seemed almost unnatural, somehow …

Someone was watching her ...

Phoebe mentally berated her mind for wandering at a time like this. Shrugging away her hyperactive conspiracy theories before they could fully manifest themselves, Phoebe withdrew her hand from the cupboard, pulling out with it a small potions bottle, and crossed to the kettle. She flipped the switch, smiling slightly as steam gushed out of the spout.

Grabbing a mug from the draining-board and tipping a tiny amount of the potion into it, she swirled it around lightly with one hand, and added boiling water to the concoction, before inhaling the wafting fumes herself and nodding in satisfaction.

Content, she hurried from the kitchen, flicking the light switch as she departed and stumbling haphazardly towards the staircase, heading for the Attic, once again.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Piper waved her arms around energetically, her eyes never wavering from Chris' immobile form, signalling for hush.

But it was pointless.

Paige's tongue was bound as she stared over at them, eyes bright and intently focussed upon the stirring form of her Whitelighter.

Satisfied that no sound could interrupt them, Piper entered 'Mother-mode', gently shaking the shivering shoulder beneath her finger-tips, softly cajoling Chris back into 'life'.

"Chris? Chris, wake up. Come on, open your eyes for me," she pleaded, gently.

The Witchlighter merely shuddered in response, the movement travelling like a shockwave through her own body. A soft but pain-filled moan escaped his chapped, parted lips, and his head shifted desperately to one side before falling back, again.

"Chris? Come on, sweetie, open your eyes," she tried, desperate to bring him back, somehow. Her choice of wording startled her slightly, and yet, for some reason, she felt unusually comfortable saying it. It seemed … so right

Paige found she was faintly amazed by the speed with which Piper had abandoned her previous hatred of their Whitelighter.

'Sweetie? Since when was he a sweetie ?!!' she wondered, baffled. A sudden sense of pride and admiration for the oldest Charmed One welled within her chest, allowing a tiny smile to tug teasingly at the corners of her mouth.

Piper really was an incredibly difficult woman to understand. Paige could do nothing but marvel at just what was going on inside her Sister's head, most of the time.

But then, she realised, sadly, at times like this, she wasn't so sure she really wanted to know, anyway.

A creaking floorboard regained her attention and she jumped slightly, trying to unsuccessfully cover it up by moving closer to Piper and Chris. She looked up, curious, and spotted Phoebe crossing the threshold, a steaming mug encased within her outstretched hands.

Paige raised her eyebrows in surprise, her eyes narrowing slightly in confusion as she considered the close-to-overflowing mug.

Spotting the questioning looks flying her way from her youngest sister, Phoebe shook her head, mouthing, 'Later', before hurrying across the Attic and dropping to her knees beside Piper.

"How's he doing?" she asked, slightly breathlessly, placing the mug down carefully and allowing her concerned gaze to fall onto their restless companion.

"Not so sure, yet," Piper admitted, continuing to shake his shoulder, gently but firmly.

"Chris?" Phoebe tried, adding her own comforting voice into the mix.

Surprisingly, Chris appeared to respond, tilting towards her voice, almost obediently. But he still didn't wake. He was restless, definitely stirring. That had to be an improvement, right?

Frustrated, Phoebe sighed, shaking her head, and glanced up at Paige.

"Anything in the Book?" she asked, not exactly optimistic.

Paige shook her head, despondently.

"Nope. Nada. We don't know what's attacked him, so I can't look for that, and those injuries don't exactly narrow it down. Anyone could have done that to him."

"And there's nothing in there that might … I dunno, 'bring him round'?"

Paige eyed the mug on the floor suspiciously, an eyebrow in serious danger of vanishing beneath her strawberry blonde locks.

"Well, call me crazy, but I presumed that that was what the pick-me-up was for," she confessed, inquisitively. Phoebe half-nodded, and shrugged.

"Ssshh!"

Momentarily distracted, Phoebe and Paige jumped a mile as Piper's harsh attempt at silencing their conversation pierced their ears. Faintly irritated by her acidity towards them, they mutely agreed to avoid a confrontation with the Halliwell Matriarch if they could manage it. Though, by no means accepting to drop it, they turned to find the Eldest glaring daggers at them, as she sharply withdrew her hand from the boy's shoulder.

"He's waking up!" she whispered, sharply, returning her gaze to Chris' pain-etched features.

A low groan a moment later effectively proved her statement.

"Piper, I'm dying, not deaf," came a somewhat slurred, hoarse murmur from beneath her. "W-what am I? Four?"

Ever so slowly, the Witchlighter's eyes flickered open to reveal a pair of icy green orbs, hazy with pain but struggling to focus upon their faces, nevertheless.

Piper, at least, had the decency to blush lightly.

"Sorry," she murmured, guiltily.

Chris almost smiled. Almost.

With a groan, he struggled to sit up, rolling over slightly in the process, but a hand forced him back down again, a moment later.

"No, Chris," Piper called, sharply. "You're hurt. Stay there a minute."

Chris rolled his eyes in exasperation, but remained where he was, obediently.

"Chris, what happened?" Paige asked, the Book of Shadows securely wrapped in her arms as she strode across to them and crouched beside him.

Chris' glazed focus shifted to the youngest sister and Paige shivered as she spotted a moment of hesitancy as he practically drank in her every feature, almost as though he was struggling to recognise her.

Relief blossomed as the moment passed, and the strange look of unknowing suspicion left his eyes.

He half-shrugged in response, and winced at the effort, opening his mouth to reply, only to be overcome by violent, racking coughs.

Piper struggled to calm him, while her sisters watched on despairingly as the glinting hints of blood speckled both his chin and the floor beneath him, a tiny droplet slipping over his lower lip.

One drop of red amidst a whiteness human skin should never be.

Piper sighed, relieved, as his breathing evened out somewhat, but was soon undeniably concerned by the drooping eyelids. Not sure how she knew it, she was certain that if his eyes closed, they'd never open up again.

"I … I can't … can't remember … " he murmured, drowsily, finally answering Paige's question verbally and regaining their full attention.

But it wasn't a response they wanted to hear.

And all three Sisters knew that they were running out of time. That Chris was running out of time.

"Chris," Phoebe called, sharply, drawing in the attention of the room's occupants for herself.

With a low moan of pain, Chris forced his eyes fully open again, fighting to keep his wavering gaze steady upon her face.

"Chris, I need you to drink this for me," she said, firmly, indicating the mug beside her. "Help him up a bit," she added to Piper, who nodded and set to lifting the Witchlighter's shoulders a little.

"What is it?" Paige asked, glad her curiosity was about to be quenched.

"Well, Piper's put a new spin on an old idea. She'd probably call it Camomile Tea, but as well as a relaxing agent, there's an energy restoring agent in it."

Paige glanced at the eldest in time to see Piper's eyebrows raise in recognition.

"Oh, yeah, I remember making that," she said, nodding lightly. She eyed the mug's contents for a moment, then returned to raising Chris' head enough for him to be able to drink the stuff.

"I'm right, then?" Phoebe asked, slightly sceptically, unsure of her own idea.

Piper frowned.

"Well, it's been in there a while, but if it looked alright in the bottle, then it should be fine," she assured. "To be honest, I'd completely forgotten we still had that one left over."

Phoebe grinned, brightly.

"Y'see?" she declared, nudging Paige playfully in the ribs. "I told you I was the brains of the family."

Paige snorted derisively and received another nudge, slightly more painful than the first, as a consequence.

Phoebe smiled lightly, but her facial expressions sobered considerably as she reached for the mug, careful not to spill a drop as she passed it across to Piper, who still had one hand supporting Chris' head.

"Here you go, then," Piper murmured, distractedly, taking the cup with her spare hand and holding it to the boy's chapped lips.

For a moment, it looked like Chris was about to knock the boiling mug from Piper's grasp, but instead, he sighed and leaned in to drink, submissively.

Sipping the concoction was the easy part.

Swallowing the stuff was what caused a problem.

Chris fought to force the liquid through his blocked up throat, succeeding eventually and being rewarded with another fit of racking coughs as it trickled teasingly past the rising torrents of blood.

Jamming his eyes shut, he felt his head being gently lowered back onto the wooden panels beneath him, and his body shuddered fitfully as he attempted to pull his breathing back under control.

Soft hands were rubbing soothing circles up and down his arms, coaxing a strange feeling of calmness into existence beneath his wounded skin.

Or was that the potion?

Incredibly relaxed, all of a sudden, Chris forced his lungs to inhale a great, much-needed breath, and silently marvelled at his ability to breathe almost clearly. The coughing ceased, and Chris blinked, the pain of his injuries numbing down to a bit more of a tolerable ache, rather than an unbearable suffering.

Three sighs of relief fluttered into his ears, and Chris glanced up, slowly, an odd mist around the edges clouding his otherwise fairly clear vision.

"Better?" Paige asked, eyes wide with wonder.

Chris half-nodded, the pain only on mute, not disposed of altogether.

"Can you remember anything about what happened?" Piper asked, never one to mince words. Phoebe rolled her eyes, but strained her ears to hear his reply, too.

Chris frowned, then shook his head to one side, feeling a twinge of pain in his neck but ignoring it. He didn't dare himself to speak, even after the potion. His throat was clogged up with blood. Anything could happen if he attempted to unblock it. And he didn't think he could handle another bout of coughing.

"We need Leo," Paige murmured, turning away and rising to her feet. Pretty certain that Chris was, for now, out of imminent danger, she abandoned her fruitless search of the Book and carried it back over to its pedestal. Scowling at the ceiling, she nodded to Phoebe mutely and made for the staircase.

Phoebe, taking the hint, nodded back and reached across Chris' somewhat irrationally breathing chest to retrieve the near-empty mug.

"I'll just take this away," she said, hesitantly, before jumping to her feet and hurrying from the room.

Piper stared after them, curiosity welling again, but a low groan from beneath her prevented her from moving after them for the second time in ten minutes.

"What's the matter? What hurts?" she asked, concern evident.

Chris half-smiled.

"My … pride," he choked out, daring himself despite his earlier claims against attempting to use speech.

Surprisingly, miraculously, no coughs disturbed the otherwise silent Attic.

Piper chuckled, lightly, still unsure of whether or not she should believe him. But then, it was a bit of a stupid question to begin with. Those wounds were practically screaming, "Ouch!" for themselves.

"Are you sureyou can't remember anything? Nothing at all? Nothing that could help?" she tried, hopefully.

Chris closed his eyes, fighting to slow his frantically beating heart down a little, and straining his memory for any tiny detail.

But there was nothing.

Three hours ago he'd left the Attic, depressed, frustrated and uncertain.

He'd orbed to the Bridge, hoping to organise his racing thoughts in to some sort of understandable order. He'd needed space.

And he'd found it.

Peace and quiet above the din of the city.

And then Darkness.

Just … nothing.

What the Hell had happened to him?

"Piper I …" Chris swallowed, his mind racing and his body numb. "I .. I can't remember …"

Piper sighed, sadly, but nodded in acceptance.

However, she couldn't be prepared for the look of pure shock and unadulterated horror that had adorned his features as that lack of memory became apparent, though. She stared at him in astonishment, worried by his sudden stillness.

"Chris, what - ?"

"I c-can't remember anything!" he whispered hoarsely, his gaze floating off into the wall behind her, completely flying over her head.

Piper frowned.

"It's fine, Chris, you're just in shock, that's -"

"Th-three h-hours … there's n-nothing!"

His emerald orbs snapped back to her face, and Piper gasped, entranced by the look of pure fear that burned within them like fire.

"Wh-what's happened?"

His voice was so low, so hoarse, so desperate.

Piper shivered, suddenly feeling desperate, herself; desperate to get away but drawn to his aid, at the same time.

She wanted to leave him, to put as much distance between herself and those staring, pleading, desperate eyes as possible.

But she couldn't.

Why couldn't she?

"Chris … don't worry," she murmured, almost on automatic. "We'll figure it out, I promise. We'll sort this out. Everything's gonna be okay, yeah?"

But Chris' eyes held not even the slightest hint of belief in her words. And deep in her heart, Piper didn't believe them, either.

That's all they were, in the end.

Words.

Piper made to stand up, a little guilty about the speed with which she forced herself to her knees, but continuing regardless.

"Look, I'd better go and find Ph -"

"No!"

Chris' hand shot out like a bullet and enclosed desperately around her wrist, pulling it back towards him like a safety blanket.

Piper started and stared at him, in amazement.

"No," he whispered, again, quieter, this time, "p-please don't l-leave me!"

It was a plea of extreme anxiety.

It was a plea of fear.

He was terrified of something, and that was scaring the Hell out of her.

Just that morning he'd manipulated them into almost binding her son's powers. He'd tried to convince them that Wyatt would become evil in the future. He'd been secretive and sullen ever since first appearing in the Manor's Attic all those months before.

But never before had she seen such pain and fear, such raw emotion etched into those neurotic features.

Well, almost never.

That morning, she could have sworn she'd seen a hint of regret, of horror and genuine sadness, when she'd declared that she never wanted to see him again. She didn't know how she knew, but she knew without a doubt that those words had hurt him. That one sentence had ripped through his unemotional mask and scarred his heart.

But why?

Scared senseless, but determined to hide it well, Piper sighed and dropped back onto the ground beside him, nodding amiably.

"Alright," she agreed, calmly, unconsciously placing a soothing hand onto his arm.

Chris let loose a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

But at Piper's sharp withdrawal, he glanced up at her, eyebrows raising ever so slightly and his relief vanishing into the ether, once again.

"You're burning up," she acknowledged, worriedly.

"Must be th-the injuries," he sighed, softly, attempting a disinterested shrug but failing as a fresh wave of pain hit his core. He whimpered gently and tilted his head to one side, closing his eyes and gritting his teeth, willing it to pass.

Where had that come from?

Piper's heart skipped a beat at the sight.

"Leo!" she shouted, suddenly hating her ex-husband for ignoring her calls while Chris was suffering so much.

Again, there was that irrational need to care for the boy. She felt hatred towards the man she'd not twenty minutes ago been appraising for finding the one thing she'd wanted for years. Her mother's charm bracelet.

What the Hell was Chris doing to her ?!!

"Right," she murmured, more to herself than to Chris. She struggled quickly to her feet, striding over to the Book of Shadows and lifting it into her arms, almost in imitation of her youngest sister mere moments before. Shooting Chris a worried glance, she sighed and hurried back over to him, slightly concerned by his sudden obliviousness to her disappearance.

He'd been adamant, before, that he didn't want her to leave. And yet she'd left his side without so much as a word from him.

Her wonder was answered a moment later.

As she dropped to her knees beside him, once again, she discovered – thanks to the scrunched up expression of suffering on his face - that he had been far too busy trying to push away the feelings of unimaginable pain to notice that she'd left his side for a second.

'Maybe the potion's wearing off,' she though, sadly. 'It's not exactly a fresh batch. Hell knows how long it's been in that cupboard, and the effects will probably have diminished considerably with time.'

Scolding herself, Piper abruptly shook her head, ridding it of all unnecessary thoughts, a sudden feeling of dire urgency coaxing her into action.

"Right," she muttered again, flipping open the Book and thumbing hurriedly through the worn pages for something, anything that could help. She had absolutely no idea what her Sisters were up to, but she wasn't about to sit around and do nothing, of that she was more than certain.

"Piper … w-what are you d-doing?"

Piper glanced up momentarily, troubled by the slurred quality of his wavering voice.

His eyes were hazy; their quavering gaze unfocussed and clouded with pain. His chest was rising and falling in a rapid crescendo, harsh and struggling breaths rattling beneath his paler than white skin. Yet another trickle of blood had overstepped his trembling lip, and was snaking a hesitant path down and over his chin.

Piper inwardly cringed.

What was she doing?

It wasn't like she knew what she was looking for; she was simply looking for the sake of looking, giving herself something to do that suggested that she was doing all she could to help him. When in reality … well, she was doing nothing, really, wasn't she?

Denial made her answer him, despite her sudden revelation.

"Trying to find something that'll help you," she replied, shortly, ashamed by the snap in her voice as soon as it left her parted lips, but an unexplainable desire to save the kid overwhelming her rationality.

"Th-that's… that's not … h-helping," he less than whispered, her harshness stinging his soul.

That was all the proof he needed to know that she still hated him.

Chris couldn't handle that.

A low, almost indistinguishable sound pierced the silence, and Chris forced his vision to clear at least slightly. When he was sure he could see without the room spinning at a thousand miles per hour around him, he let his eyes fall onto the immobile form of his once-Mother.

But what Chris found for his efforts chilled his blood.

Her back was to him, her gaze still apparently fixed upon the aged pages of their priceless heirloom, but it didn't hide her actions from him.

Piper's shoulders shuddered as a tiny sob escaped her pursed lips, drifting lazily towards him and swirling around his head like a siren. Knowing his mother as well as he did, Chris could tell that Piper was damn near close to a nervous break-down.

And yet again it was his fault.

Now was the time, then.

He had to tell her.

His time was up, they both knew it, but he had to tell her before it was too late.

So it was now or never.

He couldn't leave with her hating him. He couldn't leave without telling her the truth. It killed him to lie to his family, and yet that's all he'd been able to do since he'd returned to them. Lie after lie after lie …

Well, it was about time those lies were shredded for good.

If this was it, he had to tell her, if not for himself, if not for her, then at least for Wyatt. If she knew, she'd be certain to do everything she could to protect his big brother. And that was all that mattered in the end, wasn't it?

Gathering every last ounce of willpower, pushing away the rapidly returning pain of his unexplainable injuries, Chris reached a hesitant, wavering hand out towards her, struggling to sit up against his body's screaming protests.

He could feel her jump lightly beneath his fingertips, and her eyes snapped up to him, revealing a beautiful face framed by wisps of flowing auburn hair, red rimmed eyes puffy and rosy cheeks stained slightly with falling tears.

But it wasn't 'Piper', anymore.

Chris withdrew his hand sharply, the sudden movement knocking into oblivion the moment of assured balance that he'd managed to secure for himself.

Shocked by the fact that he'd managed to raise himself despite the returning pain, Piper darted forwards, reaching out to him just before his back could hit the floorboards, preventing further injury and trying but failing to provide some form of comfort. Her heart racing, she pulled him ever closer to her chest, almost soothingly, as she would Wyatt, hushing his faint whimpers as a mother would calm her infant son.

"Phoebe! Paige!" she shouted over his head, spotting the signs for herself but attempting to ignore them.

She knew he was dying, but she also knew that she couldn't handle that.

But why?

He was her Whitelighter! It wasn't like he was her son!

So why did she suddenly feel desperate enough to take her own life if it meant saving his?

Why was her heart yearning to lift his pain away and shelter him from such suffering?

Why couldn't she hate him for deceiving them?

Why did she hate Leo for ignoring her calls?

Why was she crying like her world was shattering to pieces around her very shoulders?

And then she spotted it.

A series of loud and urgent thuds echoed up through the half-open Attic door, but she barely heard them, her eyes suddenly drinking in the youth that was encased like porcelain within her arms.

Piper's blood ran through her entire, motionless being like ice, chilling her veins, freezing her heart and soul as the blatant obviousness became an open truth for her.

All this time … and she'd missed it.

She never knew …

Phoebe and Paige burst back into the Attic, eyes wide with horror and hearts jammed within their throats.

"Piper, we've got company!" Phoebe cried, urgently.

But the look upon the Halliwell Matriarch's face was not one of action.

It was one of a discovery gone wrong.

Piper was lost to them.

Paige slammed the door shut as her heels overstepped the threshold, orbing a chair against it and rushing for the Book that still remained open and abandoned upon the floor beside Piper's trembling knees.

"Piper!" Phoebe shouted, desperately.

But her sister made not even the slightest move to suggest she could even hear her.

The doorknob rattled. Paige's fingers skimmed insistently through the many pages. Phoebe's panicked footsteps reverberated around the room as she hurried across to Piper's side, reaching a hand out to the immobile form and shaking her shoulder lightly.

Neither Paige nor Phoebe knew of what Piper had recently realised. They had not even the faintest of ideas.

But Chris did.

The potion's effects had worn off completely, now. Mere minutes, he'd had. Some potion. The pain had returned with a vengeance.

And Chris suddenly found that he knew who was on the other side of the Attic door, fighting to get in. The past three hours came flooding back into Chris' mind, accompanied by another excruciating dose of pain. The blanks were filled in, and a strong feeling of understanding dawned within him.

But it didn't matter, now.

Zereph had returned to complete what he'd started.

But none of it mattered. Only one thing could penetrate his pain-racked mind, as he stared up at Piper Halliwell.

At last, she knew!

"Leo !!"

Nothing. No orbs, no Elder.

Just ... nothing.

The door crashed open, flying across the room, hinges and all, and smashing into a stacked up table on the other side of the Attic. Paige snapped the Book shut, eyes glued to the being of Darkness that was standing in the now wide-open entrance. Phoebe's gaze was locked onto Piper's face, the look of horror and self-hatred that had settled there worrying her a lot more than the Demon in the doorway.

And Piper merely sat there, tears leaking endlessly down her cheeks, as she drank in the thousands of emotions that waged war within Chris' shining green eyes.

So many things he'd wanted to tell her …

The chaos around her, the Demon, her Sisters … nothing mattered.

The chaos around him, Zereph's presence, his Aunts … nothing mattered.

A strange feeling of relief and peace washing over him as he considered his Mother's face, a tiny smile blossomed across Chris' features as he let out the breath he'd not realised he'd held in for so long.

His final breath.

Time had stopped. It was mocking them.

Two emerald eyes oh-so-slowly flickered shut, and a pair of almost identical wails bounced around the room like an angry chorus, piercing hearts and minds, the moment one of frozen denial.

One shriek being that of a Demon prevented the pleasure of a Kill.

The other being that of a Mother who had lost her youngest Son.

----------------------

Thank you shouts to Kitty-Witty-Kate, Amantine, DemonessLeader, Bianka, miralinda, incinera, aerohead1980, angel74, serendipity-surprise, angelkat2502, Brooklyn Halliwell, sailor cyanide, Pandora of Ithilien, Fhulhi the Crazy, Love Angel 1705, gostlcards, Meaghan, KC-Piper-Fan, Hope Calaris, CrazyC87 and History Buff 1990! You guys are amazing !!

Please keep on reviewing!
Huge hugs,
xXx MissHaun†ed-MoonLigh† xXx