Author's Note: It's taken me quite a bit of time to get back to writing, but I'm back now with more ideas. So, I type away! Please review and make me a happy camper!

Just so you know, some of this is written in "thought" mode. The human mind is a strange wonder, so I just hope that it makes sense to you, because I'm just letting my fingers type whatever comes out of the good ol' brain.

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Leo stared at his son in quiet shock for several minutes. Chris was sitting on the attic floor, pale and minutely trembling, filthy and obviously malnourished.

Leo had been a doctor in his previous life; he'd seen men bleeding with lost limbs, children suffering with incurable disease, and some of the most atrocious crimes man committed against his fellow man. But he'd never seen anyone he loved look as ill as Chris did. Yet, it wasn't just the illness that made Leo freeze; it was the absent look in Chris's blue eyes. It was as if he was staring at an empty shell.

Taking a breath, Leo inched towards both Piper and Chris. His ex-wife sat next to their son, the concern evident in her face as she wringed her wrists. Once he was close enough, he reached out a tentative hand to Chris's shoulder.

He took it as a positive sign that he wasn't immediately pushed away. Speaking softly, Leo could only hope that he would be able to reach the boy. "Chris?" He lowered his head, so that their eyes would meet. "Can you hear me?"

Chris didn't even blink, his voice taking on a robotic-type tone. "Yeah. I can hear you." He just stared at the area behind Leo.

Leo turned his head to try to figure out what he was staring at, but found nothing but old boxes and furniture. Nothing miraculous about it at all.

"Chris, please…Please, talk to me. Talk to us. I know that we treated you—well, all I can say is that you'll never know how sorry we are. But you can't keep up like this. You're slowly killing yourself and we can't just stand by and let it continue. You're my son." Leo pleaded with him.

Piper was praying that he'd respond. "Please, Chris. I'm so sorry." Her words came out in sobs, no longer able to keep the tears at bay. "Please, forgive me. I didn't know…" She threw her arms around him, holding him against her chest tightly, not wanting to let him go for fear that she'd lose him forever.

Leo joined her loving embrace, wrapping his arms around the both of them and placed his chin on top of Chris's head.

Chris, thus far, made no comment—made no move, so when he suddenly pushed away from his parents, they stared at him in shock with wide eyes. He didn't bother to look back at them as he walked out of the attic.

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As a child, Chris remembered the attic being full of adventure and mystery. After all, it was a place of history—a place his great-grandmother Penny created for the future, for the Charmed Ones. There were times that he felt that even the walls murmured their stories to him.

Great stories about mermaids, wizards, fairies, trolls, and leprechauns were told right in the very spot where he had sat. Chris remembered looking up at his big brother with wide eyes, begging him silently to get to the good part—to the part where the Charmed Ones defeated the evil creatures and lived happily ever after. It was captivating and there were times when he never wanted the stories to end.

Yet, for its entirety, it wasn't just the stories that kept them huddling together for hours. It was the company; It was knowing that Wyatt was the only person in the entire house that wasn't going to send him away. He wasn't a bother to Wyatt, he was a playmate—a companion—and most of all, his brother.

As he grew, the attic became evolved and became the educational center of the house. It was a place where the boys learned about their magical legacy. It was the place that planted a slow growing metastasis of evil in his older brother. And like a deadly cancer, it had grown without a single sign of its presence, that was, until it was too late to stop it.

Chris had to swallow hard, pushing past the memory of his mother dying in his arms, in order to focus on the facts. The first and foremost being that with the death of their mother, there was absolutely nothing to hold back Wyatt Halliwell from becoming the most evil being the world had ever seen.

Looking back on it, the signs that he'd been ignoring all of his life were becoming so clear. It was unfortunate that he was the only one still alive that was now aware of that.

He'd come back to the past for one reason: to SAVE Wyatt. To keep him from turning evil and destroying all of the good left in this world.

"I'm going to kill that son-of-a-bitch."

Those were the words he'd angrily told Bianca after Wyatt had sent a probe after them. Even though he'd said those words, there was no real threat behind them. He wasn't Wyatt; he wasn't a killer.

For close to five years, Chris had lived in hell. Bianca was the only light in a world filled with unending darkness. He fought, struggled, and lived for survival—and the small hope that one day, their future would once again be bright.

Closing his eyes, he'd dream of their wedding…Bianca in a wedding dress, wearing his grandmother's (and mother's) engagement ring as her own, marking the day when she'd join the Halliwell family. He dreamed of their child, a little girl as he held her in his arms.

The words he'd uttered to Wyatt before their father unknowing attacked his own sons were true. There was nothing left. Every hope and every dream he'd made was now gone—they had all faded away like a snowflake in the desert.

Bianca was dead. She had died in his arms; his own brother had murdered his only love.

He had never wanted to kill Wyatt, not even afterwards. Yet, ultimately, it was Chris that had sent him to his certain death. The demons—ones breed by Wyatt—would tear him to shreds. They would destroy the man slash monster who'd made even the Source himself tremble in fear.

It was the one thing Chris didn't think that he could live with. Knowing that he was responsible for killing his brother.

Leo and Piper, he huffed silently in his own mind, they had no idea what horrors their child had caused—will cause in the future. Even with the knowledge that a demon was after their twice-blessed, charmed baby, they had done nothing to help prevent the future events Chris depicted.

There were many times that he feared for his life, in both present and past forms. Leo had attacked him numerous times, Piper standing beside him threatening to 'blow him up'. It was a near miracle that the man finally gave up his insane jealously and started to trust, just a little bit.

And now, after they had inadvertently discovered the truth; that he was their son, did they want to open up.

They held him in their arms and told him that it would be okay. He wanted to laugh, but he couldn't. It seemed as if he could barely move or speak at times. The only thoughts in his head focused on one thing: Save Wyatt.

It had become an obsession; this he knew. It was a fixation that was wearing down his very soul and yet he couldn't stop for fear.

For even though his own future was gone; the futures of millions of lives hung in the balance. It was a fight of good and evil.

He pulled away from Piper and Leo, ignoring their surprised expressions as he walked down the stairs towards Wyatt's bedroom. He stood at the toddler's doorway, watching him as he slept peacefully.

Evil had won once; destroying an innocent child and leaving behind something that Chris didn't recognize. It wasn't going to happen again.

He wasn't going to let it.

Even if it killed him.

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Well, what do you think?