Finding Yourself

by Lynx Larabellows

As if trying to prevent his older brother from going crazy wasn't hard enough, Chris now has to deal with keeping his identity a secret, keeping his unstable cousin safe, trying not to destroy the world, and dealing with people from the future. Oh joy.

6. The Elder

Finding Yourself
The Elder

Monday, November 24th, 2003
The silence of the uninhabited attic was broken by slight click as the door was unlocked followed by a long, drawn out squeak of the hinges as it was pushed open slowly by a pair of delicate small hands. A head peeked through the opening, dark hair falling into sea green eyes as he scanned the room for any sign of someone. He wasn't supposed to be here, this was the room that they all told him never to enter. But he was curious. His brother was allowed to come here, why shouldn't he?

The eight year old found no logic in why he wasn't allowed in the attic, and so he entered the room more fully once he was sure that no one was inside. Closing and locking the door behind him, he stared around in awe. He had seen some of the items before, usually in the hands of his parents or his aunts, but never just laying about so casually. He walked around slowly, taking in everything with bright curious eyes. He didn't dare touch anything though, as much as he longed to. If he was discovered entering this sacred room he'd been forbidden to see his punishment would be bad enough.

When he reached the far end of the vast room, his eyes were drawn to the podium supporting a heavy leather-bound book upon it. The book was much larger than anything he had ever seen, and he recognized the family emblem on the cover of it. It was the Book of Shadows. Excitement surged through him as he approached the majestic book. His brother had spoken of it before, said it was compiled with countless demons and potions and spells. Wyatt had said that there was an enchantment on the book as well that made sure that nothing evil could touch it. Cautiously, he inched his small hand closer until it was hovering just above the leather. He slowly lowered his hand, holding his breath until his flesh met the book… nothing happened. Relieved that he was, in fact, not evil, Chris was just about to open the book to the first page when he heard someone begin to climb up the stairs.

Afraid he was about to be caught in the one place he shouldn't be, Chris looked around for a safe place to hide. His breath hitched, and he ducked behind a depilated sofa by the large window. He curled into himself and tried not to make any sound as he heard footsteps finally reach the door. He tensed as he heard the same click from the lock, followed by the long squeak. Burying his face in his knees, Chris wished with all his might that whoever it was wouldn't find him.

"… Chris?"

An instant relief filled the small boy's entire being as he recognized his older brother's voice. Chris rolled over back onto his feet and rose from his hiding spot—his brother could probably sense him here anyway—unafraid of letting Wyatt know he was breaking the rules. He trusted him not to tell. Chris spotted the small frown on the older boy's face as blue eyes scanned the room.

"Chris," Wyatt called again, entering the room fully and turning around in a complete circle before kneeling to peek under the sofa Chris was standing behind. His frown intensified and he stood, waving his hand over the seat of the sofa questioningly. "Chris," His voice had taken on a panicked edge. "This is not the time for hide and seek," he said almost desperately.

Chris waved his hand right in front of Wyatt's face, unsure why his brother was acting so strange. There was no reaction to his movement at all, and Wyatt's eyes were wild. "I'm right here Wy," he told him, but Wyatt moved around the couch his arms moving around as if he were trying to feel for something invisible. "Wyatt?" he said uncertainly when the older boy's hand brushed his arm and there was still no reaction. Chris reached out and grabbed the hand as it moved around him and he tugged on his brother's sleeve. "Look at me!"

Wyatt stilled and then looked directly at the smaller boy's face. "Chris," he burst out, practically yanking his brother to him and trapping him within his tight embrace. A moment later he pulled back, taking Chris's chin between his fingers and turning his face side to side to inspect for any damage. Once satisfied, he then lifted up his brother's shirt to further continue with his inspection, but Chris pulled it down with a scowl.

"I'm fine!" he told him.

Wyatt narrowed his eyes. "Why couldn't I see you?" he demanded angrily, though his anger was not in any way directed at Chris. Wyatt was more upset than anything—Chris could have been lying up here in a puddle of blood and he wouldn't have found him. It scared him to think about it. "I couldn't even sense you, damn it! It was like you just ceased to exist."

The younger boy winced slightly at his brother's cursing and looked at him curiously. "… What do you mean?" he asked quietly. His big brother could always sense him, even when he'd been kidnapped and taken to the underworld. Wyatt had still sensed him. And ever since then, Wyatt had been keeping an even closer eye on him than before.

"I sensed you come up here," Wyatt explained as calmly as he could, but he refused to release his tight hold on his brother. "So I followed you because I don't want you to get in trouble. At least if I'm up here with you, I can say that I just wanted to show you everything. But when I opened the door, you were… you were gone." Wyatt's voice was anguished, as if it was the worst pain he'd ever felt. "What happened?"

"I…I…" Chris floundered for an answer. "I just didn't want to get caught,"

"Did you cast a spell?"

"No!" he shook his head adamantly. "No, you told me not to unless I'm with you,"

Wyatt nodded his head in approval. "Then why did you disappear?"

"I don't know," Chris said helplessly. "I heard footsteps and I just didn't want to be caught!"

The older boy paused, his eyes alit with recognition. "Chris did you…" Wyatt shook his head, a small smile forming on his lips. "I think you just received a new power," he said, his eyes shining with pride. He chuckled when he saw the confusion in his baby brother's sea green eyes. "Leo can hide himself like just like that. I've seen him do it before. He called it cloaking. It's almost like being invisible, I think, but more than that. Someone could touch you, and they wouldn't even feel it. You could scream and no one… no one would hear you," Wyatt didn't sound as if he liked that particular part. "At least, not unless you wanted them to,"

Chris looked worried. "Is it good?"

"Yes," Wyatt said firmly, squeezing his shoulders. "It's very good. It means that if you're scared and alone, that you can hide until I find a way to find you. We just have to make sure that you don't hide from me again, so that I can still sense you." He pulled away and adopted an almost hurt look. "Why did you hide from me anyway?"

Rolling his eyes, Chris shook his head. "I didn't know it was you, dummy,"

Wyatt pouted. "I'm not a dummy," he said snootily, turning his nose up. He grinned when his brother laughed at his antics before he frowned curiously. "How did you get up here anyway? You don't have a key like I do…"

Chris lowered his chin to his chest at the question and pulled away from his brother, turning to face the still open doorway. Narrowing his eyes in concentration, Chris raised one hand and, with the slightest of motions, the door closed gently and a resounding click echoed as the lock moved into place. His shoulders sagged with nervousness and he gnawed on his bottom lip.

Wyatt's cerulean blue eyes moved away from the door, and he sighed slightly, taking his brother's chin in his hands and frowning. "Don't bite your lip, you're gonna make it bleed again," he chided softly. After Chris did as he said and released the swollen and abused lip, he allowed a small smile to form on his lips. "You've been practicing without me," he noted.

Chris winched and nodded pitifully. "I'm sorry,"

Wyatt shook his head in exasperation, giving his brother's small shoulder a nudge. "Don't be sorry. That was much better than making a pebble float," he praised. "You should be proud of yourself," Wyatt absolutely hated it that his brother felt the obsessive need to apologize for everything, especially his achievements. A familiar rage settled into the pit of his stomach, and unknown to either boy, there was a sudden unexplainable downpour over the Manor and downtown by a place known as the Bay Mirror, while a certain whitelighter and Elder were hit by hail in a sacred place where weather should not exist while their fellow whitelighters and Elders ran for cover. Wyatt calmed slightly when his brother's hand poked him in the forehead.

"Quit frowning," Chris said sternly. "You look like dad,"

The blond tensed at the mention of the man. "Worst insult ever," he said sourly.

Chris tried, and failed, to conceal his smile. "Hey Wy," he said softly, looking pleadingly into the bright blue eyes that gazed at him questioningly. "Can I see the sword?" His brother often told him about it, how beautiful it was and how he couldn't wait until his sixteenth birthday—the day his parents had all decided was when he'd be old enough and responsible enough to carry such a burden.

Wyatt grabbed his hand and led him over to the corner where the sword was concealed, by stone and an old sheet. It wasn't the safest place for it, even Chris knew that, but since only two people in the world could remove the sword from its stone prison there was really no need to give it more protections. Wyatt's eyes sparkled with excitement as he removed the sheet from the sword, and Chris was captivated as a gold and silver sheen washed over him, cast by the last remnants of sunlight as the rays hit the gleaming sword.

A soft, gentle hum reached his ears as he neared the sword, and he smiled as the melody called to him. His eyes slid shut involuntarily and he absently wondered if the sword sang his brother lullabies as well. A wave of calmness and contentment filled him and he placed his delicate fingertips upon the gold of the hilt, fingering the runes he found there and tracing them.

Unbeknownst to him, Wyatt was staring in awe at the sight before him. He had once heard his little cousin Phoenicia say that Chris's aura was brilliant to look at. That it almost made her want to cry the first time she saw it because it was so incredibly beautiful. And it was. Wyatt had never once thought he'd be privileged to see his baby brother's aura and he'd certainly never thought it would happen when Chris touched Excalibur. The golden sheen of the sword blended magnificently with the crimson and amber blaze of his brother. But then… Chris retracted his hand from the sword as a shadow passed over his face and the lights died down.

Chris shouldn't be touching Excalibur—he wasn't allowed to touch it. Excalibur belonged to Wyatt, he knew. And thus, the sweet lullaby faltered and he pulled away from the welcoming warmth that the sword was extending to him. The song dulled considerably, as did the smile that had formed. It must have been the lure of the sword he'd read about, the power it held was said to be seductive… and he'd heard that even his mother had let it go to her head when they'd first discovered Excalibur and she'd pulled it free. It wasn't meant for him, and he shouldn't touch it because he wasn't the Twice-Blessed Child, the son of a Charmed One and a whitelighter. He was just Chris, the second child that no one noticed… that no one cared about.

And sure, he knew that his mother doted on him occasionally, teaching him how to cook within the kitchen she kept everyone out of, and his aunts were always kind to him and babysat when his mother asked them to, and his favorite uncle took him on play dates with Phoenicia… and his father, whom he'd met for the first time nearly two years ago had once taken him to a baseball game, just for the two of them. But Chris knew he was unimportant most of the time, insignificant. Wyatt's name was the first one of their lips when a demon attacked, and Chris was just an afterthought… should they remember him at all.

Normally these things didn't matter to Chris, because he knew that he came first where Wyatt and Phoenicia were concerned. They were all the parents he'd ever need. His cousin… his twin… she was constantly fussing over him, making sure he did his homework and that he ate his vegetables. She would give him this frown when he forgot to brush his teeth, and she always reminded him to comb his hair. And his brother made sure to tell him how special he was, he praised him when he accomplished things, and he even helped him discover and develop his powers so that he could control them properly—powers which his family had no knowledge of.

Apparently everyone was under the impression the he was too young to have powers, never mind the fact that Wyatt has had powers since the womb. Chris had attempted to tell them of his powers on more than one occasion over the past few years. The first time, his mother had grounded him for telling lies and told him that he shouldn't make up stories because he was jealous of his brother. Chris had been four years old at the time and hadn't even known what jealousy was at that point. The next time was when he gained his telepathy, and he had been ecstatic because it was an amazing ability. He could hear everyone's thoughts! But when he had approached his mother to tell her… it was what he heard that made him keep quiet about it.

Why can't he be more like his brother? She hadn't said it out loud; it was more of an inward desperate plea to some all powerful deity. Chris could still remember with vivid detail how he'd snuck into his brother's room that night, not wanting to be as alone as he felt, and how Wyatt had held him and whispered that he was perfect the way he was… and joked that Chris wouldn't want to be the Twice-Blessed Child anyway, because who would Wyatt show off to if they were the same? Inwardly, the older boy had been thinking murderous thoughts, he knew, even though he hadn't let any anger show through that might scare Chris.

From that point on Wyatt had decided that, since their parents were being stupid, he'd take over and make sure Chris learned everything he did, even if they had to do it in secret. And since neither boy could hide anything from Phoenicia, who was a telepath herself, she was included in their little secret study group. Wyatt had taught them both everything he knew and they had all learned from each other. Wyatt had made the decision to keep any new powers he gained secret like Chris did and Phoenicia had similarly followed suit. They told no one about it, although they all had a feeling that Phoenicia's father and Grandpa Victor knew more about what they did on their 'play dates' than they let on.

"Chris…?"

The depression he had been sinking in due to the dark direction of his thoughts faded in an instant, and Chris raised his head questioningly, immediately noting the concerned expression on his brother's face. "Hmm?" Wyatt stared at him strangely for the longest moment and Chris had the urge to fidget under the heavy gaze. Whatever his brother was thinking, he wasn't planning to share because he shook his head and looked back to the sword before covering it back up with the sheet. And even though it would be so easy to just slip inside his brother's mind to find out what was wrong, Chris wouldn't pry.

"Come on," Wyatt said calmly, the strange glint still in his eyes. "It's almost dinner time,"

Chris pouted slightly. "But… I haven't gotten to explore yet,"

Before either of them could debate over whether or not to stay and let Chris explore, the old stairs that led up to the attic protested against the weight of someone climbing them. Blue and green eyes met with mutual horror and panic, and they both recognized the shrill sound of their mother's voice as she yelled. She tended to yell a lot. Wyatt gripped his brother by the elbow and led him back to his previous hiding spot, unwilling to let him get in trouble for wanting to be up here. He held Chris close as the smaller boy started to shake.

"Can you hide us?" Wyatt asked quietly as he heard the lock shift. The younger boy squeezed his eyes shut and did as he had before, wishing with every fiber of his being that their mother and whoever she was arguing with wouldn't find them. He wasn't sure if it was working, and he buried his face in his big brother's shoulder to muffle his panicked breaths. The door opened and they both tensed.

"No!" their mother cried. "You can't do this Leo Wyatt!"

A moment later, their father sighed. "Piper," Leo said reasonably. "He needs to be trained properly," Chris's heart leapt to his throat, his breath caught. He looked to his brother questioningly, silently asking if they were possibly discussing him. Was he finally going to be allowed to train with Wyatt? "He is too powerful to stay the way he is. And it'll only be for a little while," the man assured her.

Cautiously, the two boys peeked around the corners of the couch just in time to see their mother shake her head, angry tears forming in her eyes as she glared at her husband. "You're not taking my baby from me," she screamed. "They're the ones who are making you do this right? Well you can tell them to go to hell!"

"Sweetheart," Leo soothed. "We'll come down to visit every weekend, I swear,"

"No!"

"Honey, you need to think about the bigger picture here," the Elder said sternly. "I won't let him out of my sight, even for a moment. You know that. He's the most important thing in my life—our life—but right now he is a danger to himself and everyone around him. If he is to become King and rule over all magic he needs to be able to handle it,"

"… but he's only ten years old," she said miserably.

"I know," Leo nodded solemnly. "I know how hard it is for you to let him go. But he needs this. And you'll still have your sisters here." The Elder caressed her face lovingly. "Chris will be here too." Piper scoffed, effectively yet unknowingly breaking the eight year old boy's already fragile heart into a million tiny orb particles. It would have hurt less if she had blown him up, he was sure.

"It won't be the same."

With tears running down his face, he felt so numb that he didn't even notice that his brother was trying to comfort him, holding him and rocking him. He couldn't handle this. It hurt so much, and he couldn't breathe. Chris orbed away, unnoticed by his parents who were still wallowing in tears of their own for the son who, no longer hidden by Chris's new power, stood up to confront his parents since he couldn't sense where his brother had gone.

Chris had, in fact, not gone very far. He had only been searching for a quiet and secluded place where he could stay until he felt ready to face anyone. So when he rematerialized, he found himself looking down upon the Bay, the busy traffic below him buzzing distantly as people rushed to get home for dinner. He was on the Bridge… it was one of his favorite spots. It was where his father had brought him after his first and only baseball game… when Leo still cared about him.

The small boy collapsed onto the cold surface, curing up into a ball as he hugged his knees to his chest. He was sure no one would think to look for him here, if they even bothered looking for him in the first place. Only his father… only Leo knew about this place. And Leo had stopped coming here once he started to train Wyatt. Now it was his and his alone, and right now he was glad he was by himself.

After an unidentifiable amount of time, Chris rested his chin atop his knees and stared out at the ocean. He reached one hand up to wipe the tears away from his eyes, taking a deep breath while trying to get a reign on his emotions. He wasn't sure how long he'd been up here, but judging by the fact that the stars were hanging bright in the velvet black sky, but he still wasn't ready to face anyone even though he was beginning to feel a bit hungry. Because how could he face his mother after she had admitted, even without really saying anything, what he'd feared for half of his short life?

That she didn't love him…

Dark eyelashes fluttered open and his sea green eyes peered up at the ceiling in a blank unseeing way. Chris remembered that day all too well, unfortunately enough. It had been a turning point in his life. When he had only speculated that his family didn't care for him as much as he wanted them to, he had done everything he could to please them, to make them proud of him. But once he learned the reality of it… he just ceased to care. He stopped trying to show his mother his report card when he got good grades, and he stopped asking his father if he could go with him to another baseball game for his birthday… he barely spoke to them. The only ones exempt from this were his brother, his cousin, and his grandfather.

Chris blinked and looked down when he felt Phoenicia shift in his arms.

"Darkness?" she queried. "Darkness is nipping at your soul,"

"Yes," he nodded briefly, tightening his hold on her.

Phoenicia scowled darkly. "Trying to snuff out the light,"

"… I suppose," Chris sighed in agreement.

"It won't work," his twin whispered. "A Phoenix shines like sunlight, even in the dark."

Chris smiled at her and nodded his head to show her that he understood. "I know, Mia," he promised her and she smiled back at him contently before resting her head on his chest, her eyes falling closed moments later. Chris shook his head, knowing that she had in fact fallen asleep on top of his on purpose so he would be trapped and forced to either wake her or go back to sleep. She was sneaky like that. With a sigh, he decided to simply give in and closed his eyes. Within moments his breathing evened out and he was asleep.

Standing in the open doorway of her room, Phoebe wasn't sure how she should react as she watched her annoying, neurotic whitelighter from the future fall asleep in the same bed as her future daughter. She was still trying to understand what it meant to be a mother, especially since she did not feel like one in the slightest. And to top it all off, Phoenicia seemed to hate her. Or, at the very least, dislike her greatly.

Frowning, she observed the two as they slumbered—trying to make sense of the brief conversation they'd had when Chris had woken. She thought that the 'darkness' that her daughter spoke of might have been another word in the girl's vocabulary for 'nightmare', though she couldn't be certain. Chris, however, had seemed to understand whatever she was talking about right away. They obviously knew each other better than anyone else could even hope to, but she couldn't comprehend how or why her daughter was so close to the person who seemed to have it out for her and her sisters.

And… surprisingly enough, Phoebe couldn't muster up any sort of motherly urge to separate the two, as any other mother would when catching her daughter in bed with a man. Chris had his arms wrapped securely around the slender girl, one around her waist and another one buried in her hair. Phoenicia was cuddled up against him in the most contented manner, her face hidden in the crook of his shoulder and her own body practically sprawled atop of his as some sort of faux blanket.

Perhaps it was only because she could feel the emotions in the room that ceased any reservations Phoebe may have had about them. She could sense nothing from either of them to suggest that they were romantically involved. What she felt from Phoenicia was a deep love, a love that Phoebe herself shared with her own siblings. And Chris, whose guard was down for once, allowing her to get a clear reading on his emotions, was full of sadness and frustration for the girl's condition, but even that was minor when compared to the overwhelming love and protectiveness he had for her.

Phoebe observed them for only a moment longer before backing away from the door, closing it gently as to not disturb the two, and retreating downstairs to the kitchen. When she entered she found that Leo and Paige had snatched up another one of the delicious looking homemade cookies upon the counter. According to the Elder, he had watched Chris make them. And while Leo assured them that he was certain Chris hadn't added any belladonna or anything else unsavory into the batter, Piper still refused to even try one. Phoebe on the other hand had no such qualms, and eagerly grabbed one as she sat down before they were all gone.

"Did you find out which room he's napping in?" Piper asked waspishly, glaring as she inspected the cabinets for anything that might have been placed wrongly when Chris had messed around in her kitchen.

"Yes," Phoebe answered with a mouthful of cookie, pausing only to swallow. "They're both in my room."

Piper closed the cabinet and quirked an eyebrow at her. "Both of them?"

"Yes," she affirmed with a nod. "Both of them,"

"In the same bed?" Paige asked slyly.

"Yes," Phoebe said firmly, tossing her younger sister a glare. "Gutter, gutter, gutter…"

Piper eyed her strangely. "You're okay with that?"

"Yes," Phoebe repeated for what felt like the thousandth time. "Yes I am. They are both all comfy and cozy in my bed, wrapped around each other, both sleeping their afternoon away, blissfully unaware of the conversation we are currently having about them. No, they were not in any way naked, nor was there anything sexual about the way he was holding her." The mere thought of that made her winch. While she didn't feel very motherly, she still wasn't comfortable thinking about her future daughter's romantic life. "Could we pick another topic please?"

"… Do you have any more information about this power surge you had us working on?" Piper asked neutrally, graciously changing the topic, much to her younger sister's relief.

The Elder shook his head in answer. "No, we're just as lost about this as you are."

"Well, maybe if we knew what exactly we're looking for…" Paige hinted.

Leo sighed deeply, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I know this is frustrating. But whatever this is, it's incredibly powerful. These surges of magical energy are usually tied to a strong demon when they surface from the underworld. The Elders haven't been able to pinpoint what it is or even where it is… because they're overwhelmed every time they try to find it. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that, whatever this thing is, it's everywhere and all at once too. Not just California, not even just the United States. I'm talking about worldwide. We've never felt anything like this before, not even the titans were this powerful… and to be honest, it has everyone up there on edge."

"Could this thing possibly be using astral projection?" Phoebe asked, trying to come up with explanations.

"I honestly couldn't tell you Phoebe," Leo said. "The only thing we know, and even this is just a theory… is that it originated here in San Francisco. When this energy just surfaced, this is where it was strongest. And it's been steadily gaining more and more power by the minute. It overlapped the State within thirty minutes; imagine how powerful it must be to have already reached overseas."

"Ooh, that's bad," Paige whispered in a strained voice, her eyes wide.

"What could possibly be that powerful?" Phoebe asked worriedly.

"More importantly," Piper mused. "Is it good… or is it evil?"

Unbeknownst to the four, in the shadows of the room, lurking just outside of the conservatory, a lone figure shook his head at all their mindless speculation. "The real question," he muttered to himself, turning away from the kitchen to walk back out the way he came. "Is how you all could be so damn dense?" He looked around curiously, absently taking notice of how different everything seemed now compared to what it would be in a few short years. He couldn't really find it in him to care though. All things, in time, change eventually. At that thought he glanced back at the door to the kitchen, pondering how much they too would change, before eventually going through the parlor to reach the stairs.

When he reached the second landing, he let his senses guide him to a certain room. He opened the door as quietly as he could, peeking inside before stepping in fully. He smiled as he spotted them. When was the last time he had seen either of them looking so peaceful, even when they slept? The thought made him sad that they hardly ever got a moment of peace. He crept closer to the bed, cautiously sitting down upon the edge. When neither stirred as the bed dipped in protest to his weight, his shoulders relaxed and he just sat there and observed them.

Chris had let his hair grow out some, he noticed, seeing past the layers of charms that hid his true appearance easily. It now reached past his ears, curling at the ends like it used to when he was a child. He felt a pang in his heart as he spotted the dark discoloration beneath the boy's eyes and the hollowness of his cheeks. Chris deserved far better than this. He sighed sadly, his concern growing as he noticed all the differences of how he remembered the young man to how he looked now. Tentatively, his hand rose and he reached over slowly to brush the strands of dark hair away from Chris's forehead.

Before his hand could even come in contact with the young man, something impossibly warm and strong gripped his still invisible wrist like a vice. Sea green eyes opened lethargically and peered around the dimly lit room. The hand tightened around his wrist when there was obviously nothing there, and he didn't even bother to try and yank it away. He watched as Chris narrowed his eyes at his invisible form, winching slightly as the heat of the young man's hand grew stronger while his eyes took on an amber hue.

"Show yourself."

The command was quiet, as to not wake the still slumbering girl beside him, but it held a venom that promised the intruder an intense pain if his demand wasn't met accordingly. And so, steeling himself for whatever reaction Chris would have, he released his hold on his power and allowed himself to be seen completely. Never mind the fact that he shouldn't have been caught to begin with. He watched with trepidation as shock settled over the boy's face.

Chris took in the intruder's appearance, his breath hitching when he recognized the achingly familiar figure. The man was noticeably larger than he was, filled out with strong muscles. He looked as young as he always did though, even with his hair was completely white, slicked back away from his face, and making the scar running down the man's face from his left eyebrow and all the way to his ear all too clear to see. It gave the man a harsher appearance. But his eyes… despite the harshness caused by years of struggle apparent in them… the eyes were the same. A deep sea green in color, so very much like his own, and shining brightly as they stared down at him.

"Dad…?"

A smile spread across his face and he nodded. "Yes, son, it's me."

"…Are you from the…" Chris trailed off hesitantly.

"Well," the Elder began dryly. "I'm certainly not from here," He spread out one arm with a flourish, the dark jacket he wore falling open and revealing several belts tied not only around his waist but over his chest as well. "Could you imagine the look on your mother's face if I suddenly showed up dressing in all black, carrying an endless supply of potion and throwing knives on me?" He dropped his arm with a smile, and it appeared to be all the confirmation Chris needed. He gently disentangled himself from Phoenicia and tugged on the still captive wrist and pulled the older man down to him. The embrace was awkward, but most definitely welcome.

"It worked…" Chris breathed out in awe.

"So it was your fault," Leo chuckled, a playful smile settling on his lips as he trapped his son in a tight embrace. Who knew the next time Chris would actually allow him to hold him like this once the shock wore off. "I'd wondered where my sudden knowledge of sword fighting came from. Or how I survived the attack when I remember being on my death bed after it happened.

Chris let out a choked laugh and pulled away. "Yeah," he said sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. "I kind of sent you to Valhalla. I suppose the time ripples have begun to take effect if you're alive now," he mused. "You probably will have two sets of memories until the paradox I've created is fixed and one of the timelines fades away. I do hope the process wasn't too painful for you."

Leo gave him a humorless look. "Just wait until the ripples catch up with you," he mumbled with a hint of mock-annoyance. "You're part Elder too, and once the ripples work their way back through time to get to you, you'll have one hell of a headache for a few weeks. And you'll never know when they'll hit. My ears are still ringing from it."

Chris bit his lip to hold in his laugh. "Sorry, dad, I forgot that Elders aren't affected by changes in time the same way everything else is,"

"Yeah, yeah," Leo rolled his eyes, unable to keep the affectionate tone out of his voice. He was elated that his son hadn't reverted back to calling him by his given name already. Perhaps there was hope of salvaging their relationship. After all Chris had saved his life, hadn't he? Surely he must still care about him, even if just a little. "I've missed you, Chris," He smiled as his son gave him a shy, almost hopeful look. "Thank you for giving me another chance… especially since my past self seems to be a bit dimwitted." he admitted reluctantly.

Chris couldn't resist smirking at him. "Just your past self?"

"Watch it, Christopher," Leo replied playfully.

Grinning widely, Chris maneuvered out of the bed without disturbing his twin, feeling better than he had in the longest time. For once everything seemed to be headed in the right direction, even if not in ways he expected. He had been fully prepared to continue on as he'd had, even if it hadn't been for the sudden appearance of his cousin. But now he had his father. His father was alive… because he had changed the future. If he could change one life, it opened the doorway to the possibility that yes—he could save the lives of his brother and his cousins. And he could save the world from what it would become if left on its own. And if everything else went according to his wishes, his cousin would be more like herself within the next two or three days, and they could all work together to neutralize any threats to Wyatt with ease before moving on to the bigger picture.

"Come on," Chris said quietly, gesturing for the older man to follow him once he'd tucked Phoenicia back beneath the covers. He led the way to the stairs. "I think it might be best if I introduce you first, because they might mistake you for a… very bad impersonator." As they entered the dining room, adjacent to the kitchen, Chris licked his lips nervously. He prayed that his father knew he wanted to keep his identity secret—they hadn't exactly spoken about why he was here yet, let alone sit down to compare stories so that, when interrogated, they wouldn't say the wrong thing. Chris had been more worried that one of the sisters would have walked in unexpectedly than if their stories matched when he'd suggested going to find everyone.

Steeling himself for whatever reactions they may have, Chris entered the kitchen, making sure his body shielded his father's despite the fact that, should Leo be blown up it would merely sting whereas if Chris were to be, he would be in dire need of healing afterwards. He cleared his throat to get their attention, masking his immediate grimace with an impassive look when all eyes turned to him. Chris shifted his weight from foot to foot.

"Um…"

Before he could say anything though, his father decided he didn't like the way that the younger and much more alive version of his wife was holding her arms up, poised to use her destructive power even though Chris was in between them. He stepped around his son so he was the easier target, placing a placating hand on his son's thin shoulder, and gave them a better look at his features. Leo knew his appearance was… much more foreboding than his younger self. He was darker… more dangerous. And it reflected in both his apparel and in his eyes.

"…He's not a shapeshifter," Chris said clearly. "This is Leo… from my time."

The one dressed in golden robes stepped forward, eyeing the clearly dangerous man with distrust. "Are you sure?" the Elder asked suspiciously. His suspicion caused the other to raise a scarred eyebrow in question, eyes narrowed when it seemed that his counterpart wanted to grab Chris away from him. His hand tightened slightly on his son's shoulder impulsively, something akin to jealousy worming its way into his heart… for himself. It was a ridicules notion, even he knew that, but this man had spent months with his son while he'd been otherwise… occupied.

"Yes Leo," Chris rolled his eyes in answer. "I'm positive." After a moment, he turned to his father, a smirk on his lips. "And you actually wonder why I say you need to lighten up?" he quipped, earning himself a slight glare from both versions of the Elder. His smirk only grew. "Anyway—"

"Why are you here?" Leo demanded, frowning in distaste at the state of his apparently older self's clothes.

"I'm here because of Chris," the man answered easily enough, though without really answering. He wasn't entirely sure what his son's plans were, but if he knew his son half as well as he thought he did than Chris was probably being evasive and only telling them the bare minimum. And disrupting his son's mission wasn't why he was here.

"But why?" the other persisted.

He shrugged. "Because,"

Leo glared at him. "Quit avoiding the question,"

"Ask a better one."

"This is confusing…" Paige whispered to her sisters, though her voice carried. Everyone looked at her, and she bristled defensively. "What? I'm just saying! They look the same…" She trailed off, eyeing the time traveler oddly. "Well… for the most part. And I keep thinking of them both as Leo and it's giving me a headache."

"Then don't think of me as Leo," the Elder suggested calmly, ignoring the way his younger self fumed silently at his clear avoidance. "We may share souls, but I'm much older and more experienced than he is. And as for our physical appearance, you couldn't possibly mistake him for me because not only are we dressed completely differently, but my hair his white and his is still golden. And he doesn't have any of my scars, especially not these," He gestured at his own face.

"Yeah but…" Paige frowned. "We can't think of you both as Leo,"

"Then don't," Chris said, merely repeating his father's words. "Only think of Leo… that is to say, our Leo, as… well, Leo. Think of the future Leo as…" He eyed his father, wondering if he could get away with giving him some ridicules name just for the fun of it. Or perhaps… Chris smirked inwardly as a devious thought came to mind. "Sun God," The hand tightened on his shoulder compulsively and his father stared at him for the longest time while the sisters, Paige in particular, seemed to be trying not to laugh at the flabbergasted expression on the man's face. Only the younger Elder seemed to be sympathetic, though that was probably only because he could be considered a target for humiliation for that abhorrent nickname as well.

"Where did you hear about that?" he choked out.

Chris bit his lip to keep from laughing. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

The man scowled faintly. "Yes, Christopher, I really would!"

Smirking at his father's obvious ire, he only shook his head. "You'll have to ask Paige," he said, his face turning more serious once more. "We still need something to call you by."

"Leon will probably work just fine," the Elder suggested, his eye still twitching as he eyed Paige suspiciously.

"… Um…" she fidgeted. "Not much a difference, is it?"

"Well," Chris frowned thoughtfully. "We don't really have to worry about mixing them up physically, and their personalities are easy enough to differentiate. And technically, they are the same person. So it doesn't really matter, does it?" Unable to come up with anything to dispute his logic, Paige only shrugged.

"So, Leon," Leo drawled, his eyes still showing his unease. "Why the hell are you here?"

The other Elder sighed, one hand rising to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Damn. He's a broken record…" he muttered, shaking his head, and causing Chris to smile outright. "I'm here to keep Chris from doing anything stupid, to watch out for him, and to ban him from demon hunting, potion making, scrying, spell writing, pretty much all magic for a while."

Chris's smile faded and he stared at his father in disbelief. "What?"

Leon sighed in disappointment as the young man pulled away, taking a step back from him, but he knew this was a necessary evil. Better for him to be the target than an innocent, or someone who couldn't heal themselves, in a manner of speaking. "You eat and rest until I say otherwise. Think of it as a temporary probation until I feel you're ready to become active again."

"I'm on probation?" he repeated, his mouth hanging open slightly.

"Yes, Christopher," the Elder said firmly. "You are. Until I say otherwise,"

Mouth snapping closed with an audible click, Chris narrowed his eyes with anger. "You can't tell me what to do!"

"Actually, I can," Leon said coolly, returning the look full force. "Besides the fact that I outrank you in the whitelighter hierarchy, you are still a minor until next October. As such, I am your guardian until then."

"I…" Chris growled, his control slipping slightly. He could feel his blood rush like lava in his angered state and took just a moment to collect himself. "You can't do that."

"I just did,"

"I'm not a minor," Chris hissed at him. "Not in our time. The legal age is fifteen."

"We're not in our time, Christopher," Leon reminded him casually. His flinch when a blast of heat that radiated off of Chris as he stepped close, getting in his face, went unnoticed by everyone. "Here, the legal age is eighteen."

"You forget the government emancipates their precious weapons," Chris growled deep in his throat, his eyes turning an amber completely, the band of silver from his twin only adding to the effect of making his eyes seem more impressive, practically glowing with power. He clenched his fists by his side. "I'm an adult. I can make my own decisions, and you have no authority over me."

"You're a child," Leon countered, his voice remaining calm, though beads of sweat had already begun to gather at his temples and his eyes watered from the sheer heat radiating from his son. "And when it comes to the safety and health of everyone around you, I trust you implicitly. You always look out for those you care about, and make sure all of their needs are cared for." Chris blinked at him in confusion, his eyes losing some of their fire. "However, when it comes yourself, you don't even take a moment to consider resting or even just eating. You forget simple things that keep you alive until you can barely stand up. You bottle your feelings up, keeping everything to yourself, until they're raging inside of you and have nowhere to go. It makes you weak Christopher. It makes you a liability."

A small proverbial light went off in Chris's head as he recalled a similar conversation with this particular Elder a long time ago. It had ended with him beating the ever loving shit out of his father. The man had baited him, called him weak and said that he couldn't take care of himself if he could barely lift a fork to his mouth, and if he couldn't take care of himself how could he be expected to take care of others. He'd done it just so Chris would release all of his pent up emotions… physically if necessary. And now, as he studied the older man, he was met with the realization that Leon had been purposely trying to make him upset. The man knew which buttons to push—take away his free will, his independence, calling him weak and a liability… and Chris knew he had been on the very edge of his patience. He was certain he'd been just one more comment away from snapping back like a rubber band, lashing out physically and magically just to cause any kind of pain that might rival even just slightly of what he felt inside of him.

Chris shook his head, his eyes returning back to their natural color as he took a step away from his father. He breathed deeply, inhaling through his nose and exhaling with a sigh. A gentle hand settled on his shoulder, and he didn't even have to glace back to know that his twin had felt his upsetting emotions and had come to his aid. He could already feel the forced calm his twin was feeding him through their bond. He looked back up at the Elder, noting the weary look and the beads of sweat on his face.

"You really need to quit doing that," Chris sighed jadedly. "It's bad for your health, not to mention mine. I think I'm going to have an ulcer before I ever make it to twenty. And I think I already have high blood pressure, so you're not helping in the least."

Leon frowned slightly, shaking his head. "Come on Chris. You need to release some of your anger before your powers do it for you. I'm offering an outlet here, son."

Chris shot him a sharp look at the word 'son' but only scoffed. "I'm not emotionally repressed," he said. "I won't explode if I get angry. I have more control now than I ever did before."

"Even after your powers have been bound for so long?" Leon questioned. "Your powers are tied to your emotions Chris, they even effect your emotions. They make you angrier, more passionate about things than you would have been naturally. If your emotions become too much for you to handle…"

"A tightly wound thread will snap from the tension placed upon it," Phoenicia added softly, standing contently beside her cousin. "And yet when you combine more than one thread together they will sustain against it, resist, and prevail. We were two threads, and now we have rejoined to become a rope. Do not trust so easily your previous experiences. The world is on the edge of a knife and nothing is certain." She turned away from the others and looked at Chris calmly, her voice echoing in his mind as her lips remained still.

"The path to hell is paved with good intentions," she told him."He, who is of heaven, will forsake his vows to uphold the old laws and with his good intentions he shall bring forth the Lord of Darkness with the help of those of hell. Hope yet remains, the man of heaven and the men of hell can be stopped when the Phoenix shines and takes what is his by birthright. The world will bask in the Phoenix's sunlight and there shall never be an everlasting night."

Chris had to remind himself to breathe as he imprinted her words to his memory, his head already in overdrive trying to work through the meanings. He could recognize a prophecy, and this one would probably take him a while to decipher. But he understood the meaning behind it, to an extent. A man of heaven—there were so many possibilities to choose from… spirits, whitelighters, the angels of fate, angels of death, even Elders. How was he supposed to figure out which?—would bring forth the Lord of Darkness, or rather, they would fracture Wyatt's soul. This person would be working with those of hell… soulless, cruel beings who lived not in the underworld but in hell were extremely difficult to harm, let alone kill. But they could be stopped when the Phoenix shines? Who was the Phoenix…? Could it have been Bianca? No, just because she was a phoenix demon didn't mean she was the Phoenix… besides, Phoenicia had said 'his' not 'hers' when describing the Phoenix…

"Heartache doesn't suit you," Phoenicia whispered through their bond, and he flinched when he felt her finger poke his side in an attempt to distract him. "Do not grieve, for a phoenix demon cannot die by from being impaled, or even by beheading. The one who whispers sweet promises she cannot keep still remains."

Chris snapped his eyes to her, hope alit in them. "Bianca's alive?"

"Unfortunately," the young woman said in affirmation. Before Chris could scold her for being so sullen and cruel about something that made him feel so relieved and happy, another voice broke through their conversation.

"You're not even listening, are you?" Leon asked with mild irritation, his suspicion confirmed when both his son and his niece turned to look at him unsurely. "Damn it! Will you two stop that! I hated it when you were younger… and you know what? I still hate it. Speak out loud, with words! Not in your heads where only you two can hear!" He huffed irritably, shaking his head. "Whatever deity decided to give you telepathy should be damned straight to hell,"

"Um…" Chris cocked his head in confusion. He shared a look with Phoenicia, unsure how to respond, and she sent a suggestion through their bond. Nodding his head in agreement to her plan, he looked back at Leon, who was glaring at the two of them. "We'll just leave you guys alone to talk for a bit." Chris said as he took hold of Phoenicia's hand. "No details, the last thing we need is another paradox."

"I know the rules of time travel Chris," Leon frowned sourly. "Future consequences. But don't think we're done with this conversation. You—"

"So you're the culprit!" Paige exclaimed with an accusing finger, startling the man in the perfect distraction for Chris and Phoenicia to get away. They dissolved into a large column of blue and white orbs, reappearing atop the Bridge, and leaving Leon to the mercy of three none too pleased witches.

"Frustrated," Phoenicia said serenely.

"I know Mia," he said sadly. "It'll get better soon, though. I promise."

The young woman tilted her head in his direction. "Not me. You are frustrated."

Chris sighed. "Maybe a little," he conceded. "It's a bit harder to control myself, just as Leon said. But he had no right to bait me into attacking him! And for my own good, apparently," Chris mocked, crossing his arms over his chest in anger. "Who does he think he is?"

"… Your father,"

Chris looked at her, stricken by her bluntness. He bowed his head. "Yeah," he agreed softly. "I know. He was just trying to help."

"He just did it the wrong way." she said.

"Yeah," Chris snorted. "He's never been good with tact."

"You won't." Phoenicia told him, reading his insecurities. "You won't lose yourself, Chris. Though strong, they are not in control. You can contain your powers, just as you control your emotions. You are a dam, and your magic the water. You control the flow, retrain it, not the other way around."

"… If they're so strong," he mused curiously. "Why are they so weak?"

"Disused muscles are weak until they have been exercised properly,"

"Right," Chris agreed. "So they'll be as strong as they were if I use them enough?"

Phoenicia nodded. "Yes."

Chris sat down, his legs hanging over the edge as she moved to sit beside him. "Are you sure dad isn't right? I'm not going to cause volcanologists to think the world is going to end in a great flood of lava, am I?"

"If the dam is released the force of the water will flood," she answered. "It must be drained slowly to prevent damage." Chris became slightly weary as she smirked, the twist of her lips now reminiscent of when she was younger. "If not, the world will explode and we'll be the only survivors."

Chris shook his head with a wry grin. "We'll rule the word, then?"

Phoenicia nodded. "Conquerors of all."

"But what would we do with all of the free time?" he pouted with mock-disappointment. "There would be no demons to hunt."

"We must ensure the survival of the human race," the girl said with a strange glint in her eyes.

Chris stared at her in bemusement. "Of course. And how would we do that?"

"… By having hot monkey sex?"

Chris glared at her, choking on his own saliva at the innocent tone belying her crude words. "That is just so wrong on so many different levels, and I'm not even going to bother to respond to it." She merely continued to smirk at him. "It wasn't funny!" he insisted. At his attempt to sound stern, which failed horribly do to the sheer horror in his voice, she smiled wholeheartedly at him. He tried to maintain his glare, but he couldn't help but laugh. "You have a dirty mind," he muttered with exasperation.

Phoenicia nodded. "I know," she said proudly. "Several, in fact. The world is full of them."

"Couldn't you avoid peeking into the perverted ones?" Chris pleaded with her. "For my sanity?"

"I suppose," she agreed. "I think two Halliwell Hazards are enough,"

"Yeah," Chris smiled sadly, knowing she was talking about his brother and herself. "Someone has to be left to fix you guys."

Several miles away, back at the manor, things had been awkward since the departure of the other two time travelers, and Leon had been doing his utmost best at answering all of their questions with careful evasion. There were just some things they weren't meant to know, because as much as the future had already changed if they were to know certain things they could inadvertently cause even more damage to the timeline and it seemed as if they couldn't understand that. The sisters were upset with his clear avoidance of certain topics, and for some reason his younger self seemed to hate him, but eventually their questions wavered into an uncomfortable silence.

Leon cleared his throat awkwardly. "You all… look well." he said lamely. He winched as soon as the words left his mouth—that didn't even deserve a response. "So… how long has Chris been here exactly?"

Paige shrugged. "I don't know. Five or six months, I think."

"How do you know Chris, Leo?" Piper asked, her eyes pinned on him.

"Leon," he absently corrected, is body tensing and his eyes sharpening. "I'm an Elder, one of very few in existance anymore." the man answered her softly, ignoring the shock on his younger half's face. "As such, I've made it a point to know every single person who possesses even the slightest hint of whitelighter blood in his or her veins." He looked down in sadness momentarily. "Unfortunately, there aren't that many to keep track of. I was also… close… to his father," Far closer than you can imagine, he thought warily.

"Who is his father?" Leo asked his older half curiously.

Leon eyed his past counterpart and shook his head. "I can't tell you."

"Why not?" Piper demanded. "Why keep us in the dark?"

"You don't know the laws of time travel, Piper," he told her, his voice remaining even.

"I don't care," Piper hissed back, stepping closer and getting into his face. Her own face was flushed red, her brown eyes angry. "Screw the laws! I've had it up to here with that bastard and now even you won't—" She couldn't even finish her angry rant before the future version of her husband had gripped her arms painfully tight, a look on his face that reminded her that this was not the man she knew. None of them had ever seen Leo look at anyone, not even demons or warlocks, the way he was currently staring at her. His sea green eyes were burning with pure hate, and it was directed at her. Piper's heart pounded in her chest as the words died from her lips.

The tight grip on her arms released as he obviously attempted to cool his anger, taking a half step back, his fists clenched tightly at his sides as barely noticeable sparks of energy gathered at his fingertips. "Never… call him that again." Leon ordered tightly, eyes pinning her in place even if all of her instincts were screaming to move away. He didn't care if she was scared of him now.

Wife or not, Chris was his son and he didn't deserve to be called cruel names. She hadn't the right to speak about him like that. And Leon wasn't about to let her bad mouth an innocent boy, particularly this innocent boy, just to make herself feel better about the situation. Chris's personal feelings had been neglected by all of them for too long already and Leon wasn't ever going to make that mistake again. Chris deserved better.

Leon had to take several calming breaths before he felt the last of his anger dissipate, and he adverted his eyes from their slightly cowering forms once he collected himself. A jingle penetrated his thoughts, like soft bells going off inside of his head, and he glanced up at the ceiling suspiciously. A quick glance at his younger self confirmed that he too had heard it. It was a summons, and clearly it wasn't meant for him but for the younger man.

"I have to go," Leo announced quietly. "The Elders are calling."

"I'll go with you." Leon's voice left no room for argument, and even though the other looked as if he wanted to protest he wisely kept his mouth shut. After bidding the sisters farewell, the two were engulfed by a rush of blue orbs and disappeared completely soon after.

Piper made it her mission to cook dinner as a distraction once they were gone, and Paige decided to go upstairs to her room quietly. Phoebe, however, was feeling the weight of everything, amplified by her new powers, and wasn't exactly sure how to process it properly. She retreated into the empty conservatory and sunk into her favorite chair while she booted up her laptop. She wasn't even paying attention to the device really, but it gave her the pretence she was busy writing her column and new she'd have some peace for a while.

Everything was so confusing, and some of the emotions weren't her own so it took a while for her to separate and analyze them. She had a daughter who seemed to hate her. Leo, the man who had always been a source of stability for them all, had changed drastically in the future. When he had settled that dangerous look on her sister, all of his emotions had bombarded her and she had nearly stumbled back from the force of them. Anger, protectiveness, resentment, guilt, even love… it wasn't so much the emotions that confused her. It was the fact that every single one of them shared a common factor.

They were all somehow connected to Chris.

If Leon had really been a friend of the young man's father, than it would explain why he'd become upset when Piper called him a bastard and it would even justify some of his emotions. But his reaction to it had been so incredibly strong and severe that she wasn't sure how to interpret it. And his anger wasn't directed solely at her older sister either, but at himself as well. Phoebe couldn't understand it, just as she couldn't understand why everyone who came from the future seemed so tightlipped about it, even if there were laws about time travel. She really needed to find out what those laws were, and if there were any loopholes in them that could be taken advantage of.

End
Chapter

And yet another guest from the future has arrived. I know that when too many time travelers enter the picture to come aid Chris, it sometimes starts to get corny, and Leon will not be the last time traveler to come to the past, but I promise that they all will have a much more important role than just standing around to answer questions… eventually :) On that note, a few people have mentioned to me that, though they love the story, they're not sure about the lack of action within it.

I believe in establishing the characters first, making them and their emotions the forefront of everything, and then I take it a few steps further. I think that when writers rush into the battle scenes without making you care about the characters, it makes you less caring to whether or not they win or lose, are injured or killed, etc… For instance, there have been thousands of guest stars on the show, right? But only the reoccurring characters, the ones we got to know, made an impact when something happened to them—Andy, Prue, Cole… Chris. I just think that if you become involved in the lives of the characters, that you care about the outcome of the battle more than the battle itself, and it makes for a better story. Just my opinion. For those of you who are just itching for some action scenes—Chris is extremely protective of Phoenicia… and he is currently emotionally unstable. Not a very good combination for anyone who should threaten her wellbeing…

Until next week,

Lynx