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Chapter 4

Surprise, Surprise

It had been over two months since Chris had disappeared. The entire family had been using every free moment to try to find out what had happened to him, and what the future had in store for the young man while each dealing with the ramifications of his loss in their own way.

Piper had prepared for this moment. She'd interrogated Paige years ago, forcing the younger woman to relive every painful detail of her nephew's murder, so she could piece together plans to save him should some twisted Fate decide to try to take her baby boy from her again. When Piper had all the information she had obsessed over Elder magic, poison, stab wounds, and time travel. She'd studied every night after her young children had gone to bed, never stopping until she finally determined what course of action she would take. She'd developed two plans: Plan A was to tap into Wyatt's immense powers while he drew extra healing from every whitelighter in their family. Their combined strength, based on her research, should be enough to heal anything an Elder could dole out. Plan B was to develop a potion to counter act the poisoned magic just in case. Now, faced with the reality her younger version had feared for so long, she was oddly calm. She kept busy with her restaurant and P3, cleaning the manor more frequently than ever, and cooking enough to feed the family twice over. Her family might have thought she was emotionless or perhaps in shock, but the truth of the matter was she was confident Chris would be all right. She wouldn't let a thought to the contrary cross her mind because if she did. . .she would break. She would crumble into a million pieces and there would be no putting her back together. She'd felt the loss of a child once, and it had nearly destroyed her. She'd always felt in her heart like she had three sons since the two versions of Chris were so different, and one was gone forever. Losing another would be her end.

Leo couldn't talk about it. He couldn't think about it. Anytime he tried to research or ask questions he was struck with a paralyzing fear. His skin grew clammy, his throat and chest would constrict painfully and he would feel himself begin to shake and hyperventilate. It had taken him so long to move past losing Chris the first time. His only solace was Chris' baby version, and now that sweet baby could face the same fate. The former elder's severe panic attacks prevented him from helping the others with preparing and researching. He felt so ashamed of his weakness, but he knew he was more of a hindrance than a help to their efforts at this point. He decided to help in more non-magical ways, namely, being a present male figure for his grandson. He spent as much time as he could with Lucky, playing games, watching movies, going to the park and playing catch. If he couldn't be there for Chris, he would make certain to devote himself to Chris's little boy.

Lucky, for his part, didn't really understand what was happening. He knew his dad was gone on an important mission, and no one knew when he would back. He knew his dad's loving, calming presence couldn't be felt no matter how hard he tried. He knew his family was upset, and they weren't telling him everything, which made him angry. Every night, he had bad dreams where his dad was lost and hurt, and he tried to reach him but couldn't. He hated waking up crying but couldn't seem to stop. He also hated the way his mom's eyes looked when she didn't think he could see her staring at him. It was the same look she got whenever someone mentioned his Grandpa Alvarez, and he wondered if his dad was going to die too. That's why when a strange man in black had approached him, Lucky didn't vanquish him. He listened as the man told him the truth about where his dad was, and what would happen to him. He also promised to help to stop it. Lucky was willing to try anything – even working with a demon.

Casey had shut down, moving mechanically through her days. She was more afraid than she had been in years. Nightmares of her father's brutal murder by the hands of the demon, Zayel, plagued her, and a dream she'd had about Chris taking her father's place made frequent appearances too. When she wasn't feeling petrified, she was filled with fury. She blamed the entire Halliwell clan for the pain her son was suffering. They all had known this could happen and none of them had lifted a finger or said a word of warning. The only person aside from Lucky she was remotely her old self with was Leo, and she supposed it was because she could tell he felt as scared and sad as she did, and he seemed to understand better than anyone else how a boy needs his father. She had exchanged exactly three words with Wyatt since their fight. They were 'Vete al carajo'.

Upon hearing the entire tale of 'Chris Perry', Wyatt had lost his cheery disposition. Since a child, he'd always been the happy-go-lucky one, the one with the positive attitude and sunny, almost goofy disposition. He'd believed in good and light and right and truth as all being so absolute, but now? He wasn't sure he believed in anything. He had been evil. According to what Chris had told their mother in the past, his other version had killed people, even tried to kill Chris once. He'd made life so nightmarish a version of his kid brother had gone to the past and had been willing to lie and manipulate and risk his life and his family's lives to try to change it, and, as Wyatt had feared, had died in the process. Stabbed by an enchanted blade by someone the family had trusted. His body had vanished, but what did that mean? Had he ceased to exist because the timeline changed? Had he vanished in death because he was out of his time? Had he somehow been transported to the future? Wyatt dedicated every spare moment trying to find out.

When Piper had told her sisters, Phoebe's first reaction had been guilt. It had completely drowned her for those first days. She had been awful to Chris during his time in the past. It was a time in her life where she'd let her selfish desires rule her, and she'd been rude and unfeeling toward him so often because he dared to interfere with her precious social life. Even after she'd discovered his identity, she'd been less than sympathetic to his plight. She'd been angry for everything he'd done to their family, especially his parents. She'd even said out loud he may not have been meant to exist, and he'd heard her say it. He'd played it off as a thought he'd had too, but she could still clearly envision the hurt behind his eyes. She couldn't believe she could be so cold to her own flesh and blood. She just couldn't seem to stop seeing him as the neurotic whitelighter who'd lied to and manipulated them. At least, not until the end . . . when it was too late to apologize. Now, the little boy she'd watched grow up and whom she loved dearly was going to experience her apathy. How would he ever forgive her? How would she ever forgive herself? Her solution was to throw herself into fixing it. She'd gone on more vision quests these last months than the rest of her life combined. Unfortunately with no results. It seemed whoever was behind this was blocking her gift. She refused to quit trying though.

Paige had taken the news even less well. Her face had drained of all color making the already pale woman look almost ghostly. Her eyes had gone glassy, tears forming but not falling as she was instantly hit with an image of her cocky, sarcastic, determined nephew lying on his mother's bed, blood slowly pooling around him from the knife wound in his upper abdomen. She'd convinced herself and everyone else it wouldn't happen this time – that they hadn't really lost him. Now, faced with Chris' disappearance, she feared she'd been horribly, sickeningly wrong. Luckily, Piper, at least, hadn't entirely believed her. She'd prepared with her baby sister's previously reluctant help – after all it was a waste of time since it wouldn't happen again. She was so glad Piper hadn't lost her stubbornness in all these years. Despite her grumbling, Paige had agreed to help her big sister and worked with her contacts in the magical community trying to gather information on healing potions and gathering the ingredients they would need for it. Fairy dust, leprechaun luck, and a few other very rare parcels were on the lengthy list. Now, she worked diligently and whole heartedly on mastering the tricky potion.

Prue hadn't lived during the time Chris had been in the past, nor had she been allowed to contact her family. She'd been busy trying to adjust to her life as a whitelighter, so she hadn't even known a version of Chris had travelled to the past until years later. It should have shocked her when her nephew disappeared; unfortunately, her life had shown her just how unlucky Halliwells could be. Prue spent much of her time these last months consoling her protégé, Molly, the best she could, assuring her everything would be fine. Seeing the sweet girl so lost and alone served to fuel Prue's drive. She'd raised such a commotion in the heavens the Elders often made themselves scarce upon her arrival these days.

Molly tried to stay positive, but when she'd turn in her bed at night to find the other side cold and empty, her heart clenched painfully, and a little voice taunted her with horrible thoughts. Her fiancée wasn't ever coming home, or if he came home, he couldn't possibly be the same man she'd loved. He wouldn't want her anymore. She would inevitably rise from the mattress to dress and go back up to the Elders, waiting patiently in the white halls until someone deigned to talk to her. It was on one of these such visits someone finally had some answers for her . . . just not an Elder.

A being in a white robe, signifying their simple whitelighter status approached her as she sat dejectedly on the steps outside the Great Hall of Elders. At first Molly paid him no attention, but eventually she noticed the other whitelighter was staring at her. She looked up, wondering if she should click in whitelighter or just talk. Truth be told, after six years, she still wasn't very proficient in whitelighter.

"Molly?" a man's voice questioned from under the hood.

She smiled, recognizing the voice as her mentor's boyfriend, Andy. "What are you doing up here?" She pulled a face, "Why are you wearing that?"

His hooded head gazed around nervously before he suddenly grabbed her arm and orbed them both. When they reappeared it was in the large library of Magic School. It appeared most of the family was already gathered around one of the long tables. Wyatt was half asleep on a pile of texts. Phoebe wasn't fairing much better her eyes drifting open and closed a few times as she scanned a thick volume on past lives. Paige was drinking what had to be her twentieth cup of coffee, pacing up and down the length of the table. Piper was calmly sitting on the opposite end from her son, writing notes about something. Prue was over by the shelf, perusing the time travel section.

Molly turned to Andy, frowning. "What's going on?"

"I found out something," he announced to all present. He then shot a teasing grin to Prue. "Sometimes subtle is the way to go."

The former Charmed One turned from the bookcase and wrinkled her nose at him. "Ooh, we'll see."

Wyatt jerked upright from his pillow of books on time travel, paradoxes and quantum mechanics. He blinked rapidly, trying to piece together what his foggy brain had only half-heard. "What? You found something?"

"What is it?" Phoebe asked, setting down her book.

Paige rolled her eyes. "If people would let the man talk, we would probably know already."

Andy smiled at the youngest sister, having grown quite fond of her in the short time since he and Prue had been allowed back in the lives of the other Halliwells. "I know who sent Chris back, and it wasn't the Elders."

"Then who?" Phoebe questioned, frowning in confusion. "Who else has the power to send people through time? Every time we got sent it was because of the Elders."

"I was sneaking around up there, trying to get some leads since they haven't exactly been forthcoming with information, and I heard a couple of the top Elders in deep discussion, and I distinctly heard them say Chris' name. So I trailed them."

"Way to go Columbo," Paige commented approvingly.

Prue couldn't stop a small smile from forming at her baby sister's humor, but forced it down, trying to remain serious and focused. "Andy, get to the point."

"I was able to eavesdrop on their conversation, and as it turns out, they were afraid if they told us the truth they would be punished severely," Andy continued, used to his girlfriend's impatience. "Apparently, The Angel of Destiny ordered them not to say anything."

"Angel of Destiny?" Molly wondered. She'd never heard of such a thing before.

Wyatt's mouth fell open, his eyes wide in shock. "Seriously? As in the Angel of Destiny?"

"Well, isn't that just peachy," Paige griped.

Pheobe let out a breath. "This isn't good. We've come up against the Angel of Destiny before and-"

"-son of a bitch," Piper suddenly cut-in. She had been completely quiet until now, but the news had shattered the calm she had been working so hard to maintain for so long. One of the lamps resting on a nearby table spontaneously exploded.

"Hey," Prue admonished as she moved to her sister's side, putting a hand on her sibling's shoulder. "Hi there, listen, I know you're upset right now, but you need to get a grip and calm down before-"

Another lamp exploded.

Piper's brown eyes darted up to her big sister's face, harsh with anger. "Calm down? The Angel of friggin' Destiny is after my family again, and you want me to calm down?"

"Again?" Wyatt asked. "What do you mean again?"

Since it didn't appear Piper was going to calm down enough to answer, Phoebe supplied, "Back when you were little, we were destined to have an ultimate battle, and the only way Piper would be motivated to win was if she lost your dad, so the Angel took him."

"He was originally supposed to die," Paige picked up, "but we summoned the Angel and were able to make a compromise."

Piper snorted derisively. "Some compromise. She took my husband from me for months. She stole him from his children."

"But we got him back, Piper," Paige argued, "just like we'll get Chris back."

Molly couldn't help but ask aloud, "How? If even the Elders are scared of this Angel person, how can we possibly go against them?"

"You don't beat an Angel of Destiny by going against them," Phoebe explained. "You circumvent an Angel of Destiny by finding a new path leading to the same end."

Wyatt wet his lips nervously as he voiced everyone's silent concern. "What if there is no other path? What if the destiny is Chris' death?" His voice dipped as he added, "Like Aunt Prue's."

For a long moment everyone was silent, each trying to develop an argument against the idea. Prue was the one to recover first, her face serious but her eyes soft as she regarded her oldest nephew. "Chris and I may share a lot of similar traits, Wyatt, but dying young is not going to be one of them. I promise you."

The Twice Blessed nodded, but his blue eyes remained dim with uncertainty.

"Well," Paige said, "guess we're summoning an Angel of Destiny. Again."

000

Lucky felt the being enter the attic as soon as he flamed into the manor. Right now, the young boy was alone with his Grandpa Leo. His mom was working the late shift at Grams' restaurant, and everyone else was at Magic School. He and Grandpa had been watching a movie, but Grandpa had fallen asleep half an hour ago and was softly snoring on the couch. He wouldn't notice Lucky disappear up to the attic. He never did.

Orbing up to the attic, Lucky smiled softly at the tall man standing in the corner of the room. He was about the same height as Dad but had short, curly black hair, brown eyes and sharp features. He also had a thin mustache and hair on his chin, but Lucky couldn't think of what that was called.

"Hello, Lucas." The demon tilted his head, regarding the youth almost fondly. "How are you doing?"

"Hi, Nomed," the child answered. He shrugged slightly, his green eyes falling to the floor. "I miss Dad."

"Your family still hasn't brought him back?" Nomed asked, already knowing the answer.

Lucky shook his head. "No, and nobody tells me anything either."

"I've always been honest with you about your father, right?" Nomed reminded the boy. "They wouldn't tell you where he really was, but I did. I know you're a smart, strong boy who could handle the truth."

"I just want to help," Lucky said, frustrated.

"This is why I came tonight," Nomed began, "to give you the opportunity to save your father."

Lucky was terrified at the very thought of losing his dad. He loved his dad so much, and these last months without him had been horrible. The fear of never having his dad back was why he always allowed the demon in the attic even though he knew his family wouldn't like it. Why he kept talking to Nomed and asking for the demon's help. He was willing to do anything to save his dad. Which is why he only asked, "How?"

Nomed gestured toward the Book of Shadows. "In my research, I found out there is a spell in that book that will take you to your father. All you have to do is read the spell, and a portal will appear leading you right to him." A thought suddenly occurred to the demon, "You can read, right?"

The little boy leveled a glare at the demon. He folded his arms indignantly. "Yeah."

"I'll work on the symbol for the portal, and you try to find the spell," Nomed instructed.

Lucky drug one of the chairs from the small table in the room toward the pedestal where the book was setting. He climbed on top of the chair just barely able to peek at the Book of Shadows. He held his tiny hands above the book, focusing on what he wanted to find. The cover flipped open and the pages started turning of their own accord until they landed on a spell with the word time in it. Lucky imagined this was the right one.

Nomed had drawn his family crest on the wall. Lucky was pretty sure his grams wasn't going to like her wall being drawn on. He'd gotten in trouble for using markers on them once when he was little. His grams was pretty scary when she was mad. She'd definitely vanquish Nomed for writing on her walls.

The demon clapped his hands together, trying to dispel the chalk. "All right, Master Lucas. It's ready. All you have to do is read the spell, and you'll be reunited with your father."

Lucky wasn't supposed to do spells or potions without adult supervision. His dad was always really upset when he didn't follow that rule. It was really one of the only times his dad got really mad at him. He bit his lower lip, hesitating. Finally, he decided Dad wasn't here, and it'd be better to have a mad Dad then no Dad at all.

"In this time and in this hour I call upon the ancient power. Send me back to where I'll find what I hope in place and time."

The drawing on the wall illuminated blue pulsing with strong magical energy. Lucky felt instantly drawn toward it. He hopped down from the chair, staring at the swirling vortex he'd made in awe. He'd done it. He'd actually gotten it to work all on his own. His feet slowly moved him toward it, hypnotized by the power coming from it. Power that came from inside of him. He was strong. Why didn't the other adults see it? Why hadn't they let him help? Look at what he could do.

Without fear, without hesitation, Lucky stepped through the portal. He never saw the wicked grin spreading across the demon's face.

000

2004

Chris Halliwell was having a bad day. Okay, so when your big brother is the Ruler of All Evil most days are pretty rough, but this one was more frustrating than he'd had in a long while. Okay, that might not be true either. Since coming to the past and meeting his parents and aunts when they were young, most days had been pretty frustrating. They were all so naïve and inexperienced and selfish. He couldn't believe how much work it took just to get them to do their jobs. To fulfill their destiny. To save their own nephew. He'd expected a lot of things when he came to the past but being disappointed in his family wasn't one of them. The women who had taught him about magic and responsibility – about saving the innocent and protecting the weak – were the ones using personal gain magic and flittering about worried about their love lives over the lives of the thousands of people he was trying to save in the future.

They had gotten more helpful since they'd discovered his true identity, but Chris wasn't sure if that made him feel better or worse. After all, what did that really say about all of them? He was the type of man his family would only tolerate once they'd found out he shared their blood – a liar, a manipulator and often a cold, unfeeling soldier. They were the type of people who would treat a stranger trying to help them with contempt, distrust and even violence. They were people who only cared about a situation in relation to how it affected their family.

Chris sighed, leaning back against the cold, hard surface of the cave in the underworld he was currently sneaking around in. Being in the past just made him feel so. . .tired. His double-life as both Wyatt's right-hand and a leader in a resistance against him had been less draining than dealing with the sisters. More specifically, how being around them made him feel.

It was ten times worse now that Piper knew he was her son. Ever since Piper found out, she'd been trying to make up for her previous treatment of him. She would bake him cookies like was a little kid. She kept inviting him to dinner and trying to ask how he was and make small talk. She'd even wanted him to move into the manor, despite not really having a spare room. Instead, she'd purchased new sheets and blankets and a better mattress for his cot in P3. He'd even found random new clothes and money waiting for him there several times. Worst of all, she'd always look at him with those big soft, caring eyes of hers, and he couldn't handle it. He couldn't deal with her affection. It was easier when he was pretty sure she hated him. Even her out-right rejection of him had hurt less. Because the more she cared, the more she tried to dote on him. . .the more he saw his mother looking back at him from this younger version's eyes. Those glimpses were slowly eating him alive.

Hence, his distraction, and the fact he'd slipped up like some amateur, ruining his cover with the Scabbar demons he'd been investigating for the last few weeks. If Bianca had seen him make such a rookie mistake, she would have ripped into him about maintaining focus and not wasting time wallowing in emotions. She'd complain about how reckless he could be sometimes, and how someday it was going to get him killed. Then once the worry passed, she would have smiled at him since it was, after all, his recklessness that had brought them together. God he missed that smile - the one where her face lit up and her brown eyes danced. The one that made his heart skip a beat each and every time he saw it.

He closed his eyes as the utterly familiar wave of pain washed over him yet again. He'd do anything to see that smile right now. To feel her strength and support and love. Just to hold her for even a minute. . .but she was gone. Just like everyone else.

Silently cursing his lack of focus and whirling emotions, Chris pushed off from the wall, deciding he couldn't stay down here any longer. At this rate, he really would get himself killed. He needed to head back to the manor before the Scabbar demons found him. As they'd seen his face now, they'd stop at nothing to find him and kill him. They didn't take kindly to be spied on.

He could sense his mom – No, Piper- and Paige in the hallway of the manor and orbed, hoping one of them would know how to hide him from his pursuers. When he formed in front of them, he couldn't help but notice the overly bright smile Piper immediately put on and the disgusted look on Paige's face as she saw what he was wearing. At least his youngest aunt was fairly consistent in any time.

"Chris. Hi," Piper greeted brightly.

She sounded so much like her future self when she said it. He shook the thought away, trying to keep focused. "Hey, look, I need your help," Chris said, tersely, his face serious. "I think I have Scabbars on my tail."

"Oh," Piper said, her eyebrows lifting. "Well, I have some hydrogen peroxide in my bathroom."

Her adult son frowned at her, annoyed by her lack of understanding. "No. Scabbar demons. I went undercover to follow a lead on who turns Wyatt, but I think they're on to me." When neither woman responded he rolled his eyes. "Alright, I need a cloaking spell just in case. Is the book still in the attic?"

"Yeah," Paige answered, "last I saw."

"You want me to help you?" He vaguely heard Piper ask as he bolted up the stairs to the attic.

Chris pushed away the guilt. He had to keep his distance. Otherwise gone would be the strong soldier on a mission to save the world. In his place, a young boy desperate to please his dead mother.

He took a deep breath, trying to clear his head for the thousandth time and made his way to the pedestal at the back of the room where the Book of Shadows rested. He began to flip through it looking for a cloaking spell, and he'd just found one he might be able to tweak when the wall to his left began to glow a familiar blue. His head snapped up in shock to stare at the whirling portal. He instinctively moved to stand protectively in front of the book as he called out, "Paige, Phoebe, get up here."

His youngest aunt quickly appeared in the door to the attic, his mother waddling as fast as she could behind her. Noticing how Piper's condition affected her, he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. After all, she was pregnant with him. Her discomfort was technically his fault. Again, he shoved down the guilt. He had to be rational about all of this. He shot Piper a look that came off sharper than he intended. "You shouldn't be up here. Go to the nursery where Wyatt's shield can protect you."

"What the hell is that?" Piper asked, ignoring him completely as she pointed to the wall.

"Kinda looks like the portal Chris came through after the whole Bianca-thing." Off the wince Paige caught from her nephew, she added sheepishly, "Sorry."

"Is Wyatt after you again?" Piper questioned, starting to panic. The worry in her eyes almost smothered Chris as she asked, "I thought you took the spell, so he couldn't send anyone else?"

"I did," Chris answered. He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, "But he's Wyatt, so you know – he can pretty much do anything. He probably made a new one like he did last time."

Phoebe poked her head into the attic. "Is this an emergency because I really should-"

"-Yes," three voices answered her.

She pouted before noticing the portal on the wall. "Oh, that so can't be good."

"Exactly," Chris agreed. He set his jaw, giving Piper another harsh look, "Which is why you need to leave before whoever he sent steps out." He found himself choking on his long pent up emotions as he explained, "I don't want anything happen to you."

Piper caught the flash of pain in his eyes. It was the first bit of emotion she'd seen from Chris since she'd found out he was her son. She wanted to ask him what was wrong, to explain what he wasn't saying, but was stopped from doing so when a figure emerged from the portal, and she became too shocked to speak.

"Um, in the future do assassins normally look so. . .small?" Paige tossed to Chris.

The person who had come from the portal was a child. A little boy of probably no more than four or five years with a mop of brown hair that fell into striking green eyes. He looked around the attic with a little frown before he spotted Chris, and an excited smile spread across his whole face, his eyes lighting up with joy. He promptly ran full speed toward Chris, throwing his arms around the man's legs and crying out, "Daddy!"

Chris was almost knocked off balance by the force of the child's embrace. As it was, he held his hands up for balance while staring, mouth agape at the tiny human currently clinging to his legs for all he was worth.

Phoebe's eyebrows shot up. "Did he just say Daddy?"

"Chris?" Piper questioned, finally finding her voice. She tried to smile, but it came off fake and a bit worried. "Something you want to tell us?"

Chris' brain wasn't working right now. Was this some sort of weird, twisted trick from Wyatt? Or had magic somehow gone and made his life even more complicated than it already was. When he finally registered what Piper asked, he shot back, "No. No, no, no. He's not mine."

The little boy looked up, a flash of hurt and confusion in his green eyes, "Dad?"

Catching the look in the child's face, Chris flashed to all times his family had rejected him – said he wasn't family, said they didn't want to see him anymore. They failed to recognize their personality and looks in him, and he remembered anew how much it stung. Seeing the little boy's pain matching how he had felt for so many months, seeing his own green eyes staring up at him, Chris quietly admitted, "Uh, maybe?"

Paige raised a brow, folding her arms over her chest. "I'm kinda thinking you would remember having a mini-you running around in the future."

Chris rolled his eyes at his aunt. "Not what I meant. It's just possible he's from further in the timeline than I am. After all, you're what? Four?" Chris asked the child.

The little boy, who had finally removed himself from Chris' person, scowled in an eerily familiar fashion. He held up his hand. "I'm five. What's wrong with you?"

Chris raised his brows at the big attitude from the tiny boy. "Sorry. My mistake."

Noticing the kid still staring at him expectantly, he wet his lips as he plotted out what to say. Then, his master strategist mind finally kicked in, realizing the child had already provided him the answer. He squatted down, making sure he was eye level with the youth. "You're right, though. There is something wrong with me. Obviously you know all about magic, right?" Off a nod, "Then, you know it doesn't always work the way we want it to, right?" Another nod. "Well, see, magic sort of. . .made me forget a bunch of stuff."

"Is that why you didn't come back?" the youth asked, worried.

Chris wasn't sure why his future self would be missing, but he decided to just roll with it. "Yeah. See, something really bad is trying to hurt," he paused, the phrase so totally foreign it took him a minute to get over it, "Uncle Wyatt when he was a baby, so I had to come to the past to stop it. Do you understand what I mean by the past?"

"Like history?"

Chris nodded. "Yeah, like history. Anyway, when I got here, it made me forget about things from back in our time, so I need you to help me remember okay? Can you do that?"

The child nodded.

"Okay, so. . .what's your name?"

"Lucky."

Paige pulled face. "You named your kid Lucky?"

Phoebe smacked her arm, shooting her a disapproving look.

"Oh come on," Paige muttered, "like you weren't thinking it."

Lucky explained, "It had something to do with when I was born. Momma was sick and I got hurt real bad." He shrugged, "They said I was lucky, and it stuck."

Momma. Chris swallowed thickly. He hadn't paused to consider the boy's mother yet. Who was she? Lucky did have darker features like Bianca, but she couldn't possibly still be alive. Not after what Wyatt had done. Yet, part of him hoped beyond reason she had miraculously lived. After all, he couldn't imagine loving anyone else in the future. Couldn't imagine having a child with anyone else. . .not that they'd really discussed kids. Then a thought hit him: Maybe he succeeds in saving Wyatt, and he and Bianca get their happily ever after. They actually have their wedding and a few years later start a family. They have the little boy standing in front of him. That had to be it, right?

Maybe this little boy was a sign that his mission wasn't doomed. Maybe, Lucky truly was as his name suggested – an omen of good fortune. Maybe, just maybe, Chris' day wasn't so bad after all.

TBC. . .