Chromaticity Chapter 4: Can't Seem To Trace What I'm Saying, a charmed fanfic

Thanks for all the feedback so far. I'm sorry to say that the updates will be slowing down, for this week at least. The weekends are writing time, the rest of my days belong to school. But here's a slightly longer one to hold you over. :) Again, the dialogue from Chris Crossed in the beginning isn't mine.

Can't Seem To Trace What I'm Saying

xii. Albany, New York

"Look, I know the Charmed Ones." This is her little girl. Her little girl.

"The spell won't last long."

"It doesn't have to. Just long enough to distract them so I can get what I came for." Why does her voice soften like that? "Got it. Thanks." She's so beautiful. She's so...tragic.

"Wait, do you have to leave so soon? Can't I help?"

She stops and looks at her, and she looks so angry. "Yeah. Someday when I ask you what it feels like to kill, don't lie to me. Don't tell me you don't feel a thing." Oh no. No.

"Bianca..."

"Lynn." A voice greeted her and she looked up, shaking herself back into reality.

"Rachel." She stood up, kissing the older woman on the cheek. "Long time no see."

Rachel smiled coldly. "Let's skip this part. Why are you here?"

Lynn thought of the woman she saw long ago, the woman that her Bianca is slowly turning into. How that woman haunted her for so long, how she had to move halfway across the country to escape her memory. She steels herself. "It's Bianca."

Her sister raised an eyebrow. "What about her, Lynn? You abandoned the clan. You pulled her out of training."

"I know. That's not..." she shook her head. "She's dating a Charmed Son."

Rachel's eyes flickered. "What?" she hissed. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

"I know," she hissed back. "That's not...I know."

"Don't you remember the prophecy at all?"

"I do!" Lynn said back angrily. "That's why I'm here."

Rachel crossed her arms. "What, you want us to clean up your mess? Again?"

Lynn flushed at the insult. "Something like that." She took a deep breath, calming herself. "I want you to take Bianca back into training."

"What?" Rachel looked confused. "Lynn, what would that possibly do?"

"Get her away from the Halliwells, for one," Lynn retorted. "Give her some direction, for another."

"Lynn...she's eighteen."

"I know."

"So it's her decision now. She's of age." Rachel shook her head, a small bit of genuine emotion leaking through her cold exterior. "She's my niece, and I do care for her, but I can't force her to come back unless she wants to."

"She'll want to," Lynn said forcefully. "Don't worry about that part of it. You just have to promise me that you'll let her do things her way. If she doesn't want to take human life, then you won't make her."

"Every Phoenix has that choice now," Rachel said. "Things have changed since you left, Lynn. There aren't many of us left who are willing to take mortal bounties."

"Still," Lynn insisted. "Promise me."

She sighed. "Fine. I promise." She regarded Lynn thoughtfully. "I hope you know what you're doing, Lynn."

"I do," she said. The image of her late husband flitted through her mind's eye, and she felt a wave of guilt. Her husband, whose only wish was for his daughter to be happy in her own skin. She pushed the thoughts away. "I do," she said again.

"I hope so." Rachel shook her head. "I'll be in touch."

She turned to leave, but Lynn called out and she stopped briefly. "Thank you," Lynn said.

Rachel nodded stiffly, then left the room in silence.

xiii. The Bay Mirror

Phoebe typed furiously, her glasses slipping down the point of her nose.

"Phoebe? Another stack of letters just arrived."

She barely registered her secretary's appearance, totally focused on the computer. "Set them over there," she said vaguely.

Annie, who actually worked for a temp agency, rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "Okay, Phoebe. Good luck with your column."

"Uh-huh."

"Oh, by the way, did you hear the news report on channel six this morning?" Annie grinned. "NASA brought Tom Cruise back to life!"

"Mm."

"He's planning on becoming the first Scientologist to orbit the moon."

Phoebe frowned and looked up briefly. "What'd you say about the moon?"

Annie hid her smirk. "Oh, I said I was running out to the Moon Cafe later on. Did you want anything?"

Phoebe gave a harried smile. "Oh, no, I'm fine. Anymore caffeine and I think I'll actually start moving forward in time."

"Okay. Good luck."

Phoebe was once again absorbed in her work, and mumbled a reply. Annie shut the door behind her, shaking her head. "Workaholics."

An hour and six letters later, Phoebe sat back in her chair with a sigh, rubbing at her neck. "I should really stop answering every letter," she muttered.

A faint magical jingle interrupted her train of thought. "Yes, you should."

She smiled, swiveling around in her chair. "Coop," she said. "Oh, you are a sight for sore, tired, overworked eyes." She jumped up, sliding his arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his.

Coop smiled down at her adoringly. "Hello to you too," he said. "But as wonderful as that greeting was, I'm actually here on business."

"Business?" Phoebe questioned. "What do you mean?"

Coop sighed, rubbing his forehead. "It's strange, Pheebs. You know, I used to be able to bring a couple together in a couple weeks, but..." he frowned, shaking his head. "It isn't working. I haven't been able to get anyone together in months." Phoebe frowned, noticing for the first time how tired he looked. "There's just too much...negative energy. I can't get anyone to open up, to anything, no matter who they are."

She frowned. "You know, come to think of it, the letters I've been getting have been kind of negative, too." She shook her head. "What do you think is going on?"

"It could be nothing," he said. "It could be just a coincidence, or it could be something simple, like the tides, or the zodiac. They can affect people's dispositions." He shrugged. "But I wanted to look into it, just in case."

She nodded. "Yeah. I'll call Paige, see if she's heard anything."

He smiled, kissing her softly again. "Thank you."

"No problem," she murmured. She stepped closer to him, getting lost in his presence, once again.

"Phoebe, Elise just sent me a fax from Pasadena, she wants you to..." Annie came into the office, jabbering, stopping short when she saw Phoebe and Coop kissing. "Oh, I'm sorry," she stammered. "I—I didn't see anyone come in..."

Phoebe pulled away. "It's okay, Annie."

"I should've knocked, I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "No, no, really. It's okay. By the way, I don't think you've met my husband yet," she said. "This is Coop. Coop, this is my temporary receptionist, Annie."

Coop smiled and walked around the desk, offering his hand to shake. "Hello, Annie," he said. "Sorry about that."

She shook his hand, blushing. "No, I'm sorry." She laughed nervously. "Great first impression, huh?"

Coop grinned. "Don't worry, I don't think Phoebe will hold it against you." He shot a look at Phoebe, who shot him a look right back.

Annie laughed. "Oh. Well, it's nice to meet you." She turned to Phoebe, handing her the fax. "Elise wanted to remind you about the quarterly finance meeting tomorrow," she said.

"Thanks," Phoebe said, taking the fax.

"Sure," Annie said. "Well, I'll, uh...you know, leave you to it." She blushed again, turning away and escaping the office.

As soon as she was gone, Phoebe laughed. "She's a sweetie."

"Yeah," Coop said. "She's also in love with her neighbor."

Phoebe raised an eyebrow. "I thought your powers were off," she teased.

"Hey, I said I couldn't get people together, I never said I couldn't sense their feelings," he said, holding up his hands.

Phoebe grinned. "Okay," she said. She moved around to the desk, kissing him again briefly. "Paige and I will look into this, I promise."

"Good," he said gratefully. "It's not affecting anything big right now, but if it continues...it could be bad."

"I know," she said softly. "We'll take care of it."

"You always do." He smiled. "What would I do without you?"

"You'd find some other dashingly attractive witch to marry, probably," she teased. She kissed him again, smiling. "Go on, get outta here. I got work to do." She moved back to her chair. "But use the door! Annie, remember?"

"I know," he said, chuckling. "See you at home."

Home. She felt a little thrill. "Yup. Home."

xiv. The Underworld

Klea paced her chambers anxiously, glaring at the scrying pool. She had not been able to see the Charmed Son since the previous night, something that both worried and angered her.

"Madam?"

She whirled to face the intruder. "What?" she snapped.

It was Torvald, one of the upper level demons that made up her cabinet. "Sorry to disturb you, Madam, but the trackers have just returned from their mission."

"Well? Do they have him?" she demanded.

"No," he replied. "In fact, there are only two that escaped, and one of them is badly injured."

She cursed. "Did they find him, at least?"

"Yes," Torvald said. "But it seems as if he was ready for them."

"Didn't he have any help?" Klea said. "I sent nine of them out, surely he couldn't have killed seven of them by himself."

"That's what they say," Torvald said. "It seems as if this boy is more powerful than we figured."

Klea cursed. "No kidding." She frowned in thought. "Kill the survivors. Then gather the cabinet. We need a new plan."

Torvald nodded, bowing in respect. "As you wish, madam." He exited the chamber.

Klea stood there, lost in thought for a few moment. Then she moved to the scrying pool, once more trying to conjure the Charmed Son's image.

After concentrating for several minutes, finally, an image appeared in the liquid. She leaned in closer, watching until the image cleared. But instead of the brunette teenager's visage, it showed a blond boy. She cursed in frustration. "I meant the younger one," she growled. She watched with little interest as the image of the twice-blessed sat in a living room of a house, talking with a redheaded mortal girl.

She turned away in frustration, shimmering away to find something to take her tension out on. Because of that, she didn't see the warlock shimmer into the image, behind the redhead's back.

The tiny scream from the pool echoed in the now empty chamber.

xv. St. Louis, Missouri

"Where are we?" Bianca asked incredulously.

"St. Louis," Chris repeated again. "Did you not hear me?" he asked innocently.

"I heard you," she replied. "By the way, could you warn me before orbing off again? I nearly fell."

"My apologies, milady," he replied. "Far be it for you to stain your slutty dress."

She looked down at the short blue skirt she was wearing. "This isn't slutty," she protested.

"Sure it isn't."

She resisted the urge to stomp her foot. "Stop that."

He grinned. "Stop what?"

"Ah!" She smacked him. "You suck."

"Only if you ask nicely," he shot back. She blushed, and he laughed. "Come on."

He grabbed her hand, leading her out of the alleyway where they had orbed in. She followed grumpily. "Don't think I'm not still angry," she said sourly.

"I wouldn't dare," he said sarcastically. "Come on. It's not far from here."

"What's not far?" He stayed infuriatingly silent, and she huffed, struggling to keep up with his stride. "You know, you're not really inspiring much trust here," she said.

"Yeah, well, your sudden crappy mood isn't inspiring me to volunteer information," he snapped, but the slight quirk of his mouth told her that he was amused.

She valiantly fought the urge to sulk. "Whatever. Can't we just orb to wherever it is directly?"

He shook his head. "I put up anti-travel wards. No one can orb, shimmer, blink, or otherwise within a five hundred foot radius of the apartment."

She was still struggling to keep up with him, while he kept a hold of her hand, rushing her along. She found it absolutely mind boggling that he could still walk so fast on an injured leg. "So it's an apartment?" He nodded. "Well, that's something," she muttered. "How can you afford to rent an apartment? And why do you have one in St. Louis, of all places?"

"It's not mine," he replied. "It's my grandpa's. He used to live here before he moved back to San Francisco. He started renting it out when he moved, but there hasn't been anyone there for a year. He lets me use it."

"Why? For what?" She frowned. "Does he know what's going on?"

"Some of it," he replied vaguely.

She snapped her mouth shut, resisting the urge to snap again. "Fine. I get it."

They walked in silence for a few blocks, before Chris stopped in front of an apartment building. "Here it is," he said. He pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked the front door, holding it open for her. She walked through and was greeted by a surprisingly nice lobby. Chris grabbed her hand again, and she threw him a look, but he avoided her eye.

"Ah, hello again, John." Bianca looked over to see a security guard sitting at the desk, smiling.

"Hey Curtis," Chris greeted, and Bianca frowned. John? "Everything okay?"

"Yup," the man replied. He was in his mid fifties, and had a round, open face. "Your uncle's been just fine, no problems at all."

Uncle?

Chris smiled. "Good." He pulled Bianca over to the desk. "Curtis, I want you to meet my girlfriend, Bianca. Bee, this is Curtis."

Bee? She shook the man's hand numbly, not knowing what else to do. "Hello."

The man smiled kindly at her, and she smiled back, unable to help herself. "Well, finally, I get to meet the girl who has this boy so preoccupied all the time."

Bianca's smile widened. "Well, someone has to keep him from getting too uptight."

"Too true." Curtis chuckled. "Nice to meet you."

"Likewise," she said, liking him despite herself.

Chris cut in. "She's gonna be helping me with the upkeep for awhile," he said. "Do you think you could get her a key?"

"Sure thing, Johnny. I'll have to send out for it, but you can pick it up tomorrow."

"Thanks." He took Bianca's hand again, pulling her towards the elevators. "We better go on up. We'll see you later, Curtis."

Curtis waved jovially. "Again, it was nice to meet you, Bianca."

"Yeah, you too," she called out, already being pulled away.

When the elevator doors were safely closed, she turned to him, smirking. "Johnny?"

"I couldn't use my real name. John was the first thing I thought of." He shrugged.

"What's your fake last name? Doe?"

"Nope," he said. "Turner. John Turner." He saw her expression of distaste and smirked. "What would you want me to have as an alias, Dodger Halliwell?"

She stopped short, her breath catching in shock. When she was little, her father used to read Oliver Twist to her, and for a long time, she'd entertained the fantasy of dropping inside the novel and saving the snarky pickpocket character, running away and living out a childhood happy after with fictional Dodger. "Do...do you..." she crossed her arms nervously. "How do you know about that?"

"About what, your childhood crush? You shouldn't feel bad, I used to have a crush on the chick from Lizzie McGuire when I was a kid." He grinned. "Don't sweat it, Bee."

She frowned, knowing that he wasn't going to give anything away. Feeling kind of creeped, she struggled to get back into the flow of the banter. "I still say your creativity is lacking," she said shakily. "And, call me 'Bee' again, and I'll break your other leg."

He chuckled. "Would you prefer Binky?"

She glared. "No," she said flatly.

"Fine. But you have to admit, Bianca is a bit of a mouthful." He grinned, fully aware of how dirty his statement sounded.

"Deal with it," she snapped, refusing to blush again. The doors opened and she exited the small space gratefully, turning around and staring at him. "You coming or not?" she asked.

He chuckled again, taking her hand and squeezing it. "I guess I'll just stick to 'baby,'" he said quietly. She gave him another searching look, but he ignored her, pulling her down the hallway. They stopped in front of a door marked 7E, and he unlocked it the same key, pulling the door open for her again. "This is it."

She walked through the doorway into a shady foyer, the lights dim. Chris stepped in behind her. "So, who is it that you wanted me to meet?" she said, her voice hushing instinctively in the dark hallway.

"This way," he said quietly, leading her through a small, neat living room and through another door to what was obviously a bedroom.

She tiptoed in, peering at the bed. A man was asleep, dark circles were deep beneath his eyes. His hair was dark and shaggy, and stubble lined his strong jaw. He was built solidly, but he was also thin and pale. Bianca studied his face, feeling that fierce, floaty feeling of deja vu that had been resurfacing quite frequently these days.

"Do you know who he is?" Chris asked quietly.

She frowned. "I think so," she whispered back. "I know I've seen him before."

She heard the whisperings of voices in her head again, and she squinted her eyes shut, forcing herself not to fight it. Let it come, she told herself. Don't fight it.

xvi. Memory

Bianca ducked behind a table, wincing as a bookcase near her exploded in a ball of fire.

"Come out, you bitch!" came the enraged voice. "What kind of coward are you? You betray me and won't even stand to fight me?"

"Go to hell, Wyatt!" she yelled, throwing an energy ball over the edge of the table in his general direction, a stalling technique. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This was bad. She leaned against the overturned table heavily, examining the burn wound on her thigh. She winced in pain.

"You first!" Another explosion, this time a clothing trunk, less than two feet away from her. She jumped, cursing.

She tried to shimmer, but the wards held her in. "Fuck," she whispered, closing her eyes tightly, wishing she was somewhere—anywhere else but here. Gathering her courage, she used all her strength to launch herself up, aiming an energy ball directly for Wyatt. She collapsed back down on the floor, but she heard his cry of pain and knew she'd hit him. Good, this bought her some time.

A soft sound that she knew was someone shimmering in echoed in her ears. Her eyes flew open and she tensed, thinking it was one of Wyatt's demons, but thankfully, it was a friendly face. "Cole!"

"Hurry," he said. "Chris is holding the wards open. We gotta go."

She motioned to her leg, struggling for speech, completely out of energy. "Can't stand."

His brow furrowed as he saw the wound. "Hell," he muttered. "This looks bad." He peeled the leather away from the skin gently, giving her an apologetic look at her wince. "You need a Whitelighter."

"Cole," she whispered. "Wyatt. He slipped me...weakening potion," she slurred. She felt the lethargy creeping up on her, the edges of her vision turning fuzzy and black.

"Bianca? Bianca, focus. Stay awake." Her eyelids drooped and her breath quickened.

"Can't shimmer," she mumbled.

"Okay, okay." He shot a look at Wyatt, across the attic, on the ground, moaning in pain. It wouldn't be long until he got control of himself and recovered. Making a quick decision, he scooped the petite woman up in his arms, carefully handling her leg, mindful of her injury.

"Chris?" she moaned.

"Close," he said. "Cole."

"Chris..." she murmured, obviously half-unconscious.

He held her tighter. "I'll take you to him. Just hold on," he said, shooting a look at Wyatt, who was slowly rising. "Everything's okay."

He shimmered out, barely missing the energy ball thrown his way by Wyatt.

xvii. Back in St. Louis

"Bianca...Bianca?" Chris's voice seemed very far away.

"Chris..."

"I'm here, baby." She frowned, slowly coming back to herself, hearing Chris's soft voice, very near. "Bianca? Open your eyes, sweetheart."

She squinted, her eyelids fluttering open. She saw Chris, hovering over her, and realized she was laying on a couch. "Chris?" She sat up slowly, aided by him, seeing that he'd moved her to the living room. "What happened?"

He frowned. "You collapsed," he said. "Did you...uh, remember something?"

She nodded, staring at the now closed bedroom door. "That's Belthazor," she said, a slight note of amazement in her voice.

At this, Chris smirked. "He prefers Cole, actually."

"Right, I knew that, I..." she trailed off. "He saved me."

Chris raised an eyebrow. "That's what you remembered?"

"Yeah," she said, confused. "I was in the attic at the Manor, fighting...Wyatt." She said her boyfriend's name with no small amount of surprise. "Cole shimmered in and got me out of there."

Chris nodded. "Oh yeah. That."

"You know...?"

He shifted uneasily. "Yeah."

"How? I mean, you already have all these memories, don't you? I mean, they're real. Right?"

"Of course they're real," he said. "And yes."

"How?"

"I..." he looked apologetic. "I can't tell you, I'm sorry."

"Why not?" she demanded. "I mean, you have to realize how this is all kind of overwhelming, not to mention freaky, for me. I mean, I'm having weird flashbacks of horrible things, I'm suddenly cheating on my boyfriend with his brother, and now I suddenly recognize demons that are supposed to be dead," to her chagrin, she felt tears prick at her eyes. "I don't understand anything that's going on, Chris!"

He looked alarmed, rubbing her arms in a soothing gesture. "Hey, hey. Don't get upset. I know it's scary, believe me. I was where you are, remember? Three years ago."

"You did this?" she asked. "You remembered..." an epiphany appeared. "That's why you started pulling away, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he said. "I...I dunno. I thought I was going crazy, for awhile. I didn't tell my family, because...well, you know how they are. They probably would've taken me to the Elders or something, or at least tried to get rid of all the memories."

"You didn't want to get rid of them?"

"No," he said. "It's...I'm not gonna lie to you, Bianca, a lot of it is terrible. Scary and horrible and painful, and pretty much the definition of your worst nightmare, but...there are a lot of good moments, too."

"We're gonna make it, baby."

Her gaze turned soft. "Yeah," she said, surprised to find that her voice was hoarse. "Yeah, I get that."

"Yeah." He looked at her, a wealth of depth and emotion in his eyes. "And besides, it helped me a lot. It was overwhelming, yeah, but it gave me a much needed reality check. I know a lot more about life than I probably should, but...it helps me."

"So you got these weird flashbacks, too? And those little facts that would just appear in your head?"

He nodded. "Mine weren't as violent as yours are, I see. I never passed out. Mostly they came while I was sleeping." He shrugged. "For awhile it was hard to hide it, especially from Leo. He kept wondering why I suddenly knew all these things about his marriage and his past. I had to really watch what I said—I still do." He smiled a little. "But yeah, it was weird, knowing all this stuff for no apparent reason, all at once."

"What kind of stuff?"

"Stuff like how to cloak an apartment from Elders and demons alike," he said meaningfully. "And how Leo became an Elder, and why he and my mom divorced. Stuff about my aunts, too, about their relationships and personal lives, and...you know. Lots of things about demon hunting, too, I became a much better potion maker." He cleared his throat. "Stuff about you, too." Her breath quickened. "About your life, and...domestic stuff, like how you take your coffee and that you hog the covers. And..."

"That I had a crush on Dodger when I was little," she supplied quietly. He nodded. "Wow."

"Yeah. Wow."

"I..." she shook her head. "This is so surreal."

"I know." He tucked some of her hair behind her ear in a tender gesture. "Trust me, just let it come. It's easier."

"I did that with this last one. It felt easier." She smiled ruefully. "I think the only reason I passed out was because I lost consciousness in the dream...the memory, I mean."

He nodded. "Makes sense."

She took a deep breath. "Chris, I need..." she grabbed his hand, squeezing it. "I need you to be honest with me. I know there are things you can't tell me yet, for whatever reason, like where these memories come from, and why I'm remembering them, but..." her breath hitched. "It's not just the...memory me that cares about you," she said. "I loved you in this lifetime, too."

He looked down. "I'm sorry," he said again. "For pushing you away. It was just...it was too much, and I suddenly remembered all this stuff about you, and you didn't remember back, and I just..."

"I know," she said. She felt the tears creeping up in her throat. "I get it. I don't like it, but I understand." She reached a shaky hand up to his face, running her fingers over the rough skin of his cheek. "Chris, I need you to tell me the truth, whenever you can, okay? I get that you can't tell me everything, but the things that you can..." she swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in her throat. "No more games, okay?"

"Okay." He nodded, and pulled her closer, wrapping her thin frame in his arms. "No more games. I promise."

She inhaled his scent, already feeling his presence calming her down. "Thank you," she whispered gratefully.

"Anything for you."