A/N: Dudes, I just wanted to tell you how extraordinarily great you were! I mean, 89 reviews? Holy crap! The most I ever hoped for was 10, maybe 11! I have this other story, AAR, which I think is infinitely better than this, that has the same number of chapters that I had before I published this (7). It only has 27 reviews. The last chapter I published of it, the best one so far, actually, had only one review, so I got kinda disheartened and stopped writing it. Even though that chapter was the turning point that makes it so much more fun... Ah well, if anyone likes Animorphs, can you check it out?

Now, that out of my way: HOLY CRAP! I have, like, 90 reviews! It's sooo close to 100! So, guys, let's do that, okay? I promise an extra long chapter if we can get to 100 reviews. Can you do that for me? This chapter is 2,210 words. If we reach 100 (that's just 10 reviews, people) I'll see if I can make a 4,000 word one. Okay? Got it? You got that? Good!

Disclaimer: Me Cliffy-Queen. Me no own Charmed. Me sad. Me go beat brain out with rock.


As we were catapulted into the memory, three things popped out at me.

The first thing I noticed was the wrecked living room. The way the couch was on fire. The way the pictures were torn to shreds.

The second thing I noticed was the silence. Unlike the other memories, I couldn't hear a thing.

The third thing I noticed was the body on the ground.

It was a young boy's. Middle-school age. 13, possibly 14.

It took me a moment to recognize him. It was Chris.

And he had an athame sticking out of his gut.

A little ways away a woman stood, I her recognized from the last memory as his mother. She wasn't in the best of condition. She had scratches, bruises, and burn marks all over her body.

But she was actually conscious. Such could not be said of Chris.

I wondered why she was just standing there and not calling for her husband. If it had been Wyatt that was… like that, I would've called Leo and blown whatever had done it three ways from Hell.

That's when I noticed the demon. It was another female one, and she bore a striking resemblance to the one from the last memory.

"Matt… is that the same dem-?" Paige began to ask, but Matt interrupted her.

"No. That's the bitch's sister," he growled, eyes narrowing dangerously.

She laughed happily, spinning around, and causing the blood that was still on her hands to splatter.

"Well, then," she chirped gleefully. "Looks like my work here is nearly done. Now I just have to wait for your sonny to die, don't I, witch?"

She skipped over the bleeding boy, grabbing his shirt collar, and dragging him harshly over to his mother. He didn't even stir.

"Chris!" she shouted weakly. "Stop it! He didn't do anything! Please, please," she cried.

The demon rolled her eyes, and replied, "Did my nephew do anything? What about my sister?"

"Your nephew was about to murder a whole family of innocents! He had already killed one of them, and had seriously injured two of them!" the woman retorted. "And your sister almost killed him! Don't play that game with me. L-"

"Do you really want to call for your husband?" the demon interrupted, conjuring an energy ball, and holding it next to Chris's head. "Because there's no way he'd be able to come in time to save Chrissie here."

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered, looking at the demon pleadingly.

The demon laughed hysterically. "Are you serious? Demon, remember? It's kind of in the job description. Is that blood loss messing with your head? Oh! Right!" she added satisfactorily.

"Leave my son alone! He did nothing. I'm the one that killed your sister and nephew. It was me," she pleaded.

The demon smirked and replied, "Exactly. So now, you can feel her pain. Then your sisters can feel mine."

That was when Chris started to regain consciousness.


"M-mom?" a small voice murmured weakly. My eyes fell upon Chris, whose eyes were finally starting to flutter open.

"Chris!" his mother (what was her name? Paula?) exclaimed, "Chris, Mommy's here, just hold on. Please let me call my husband! Please!"

"Hmm, let me think…" the demon said, "Nope!"

"Mom, it hurts," Chris murmured, oblivious to… well everything.

"Honey, I'll get you out of this, just hang on," Paula urged her son. "You know what, bitch, why don't you pick on someone your own size. It's kind of pathetic, don't you think? Attacking a kid?"

"Well, no, actually. Especially when that kid is the son of a _ _ and his brother is the _ _. So, no. I really don't think it's at all pathetic."

"You do know that we'll just kill you."

"Not before I kill you."

"Umm…"

"Look," the demon interrupted. "Your concern for your son is touching, but he's going to die. And so are you. I really hate to break this to you, but it's a fact. I won't be swayed, and Chris is bleeding out. I hope you enjoy your last moments together, but I've really got to jet, so…"

Trailing off, she threw Chris at his mother, and then threw an energy ball at her while she was distracted. It hit her right in the chest, throwing both her and Chris into the grandfather clock.

"Toodles!" she exclaimed, glancing happily around at the carnage she had caused, and shimmered away.

I could feel the hatred bubbling off of Matt. Hatred I didn't really understand. I mean, sure, the demon had injured his best friend, but I didn't get how that pissed him off so much.

"Uhh… dude? What's eating at you? I can literally feel the hatred you're exuding," I asked hesitantly, my curiosity getting the better of me.

He stared at me incredulously. "What's eating at me? What's EATING at me? What do you think is eating at me? Do you see what I'm seeing? That's Chris right there! And that demon that just shimmered out? She just caused his mom's death! And his mom? She was mine too… in a way. Nope. I have no reason to hate her. None what-so-freaking-ever!"

"Okay, chill pill," Paige exclaimed, putting her hands up defensively. "The woman was just asking a question. No need to go all 'testosterone' on us."

"Sorry, Paige," he murmured in dismissal, pouting like a three year old.


"Chris?" a weak voice called. Paula slowly sat up, blinking back pain. "Honey, are you okay?"

No reply.

"Chris?" she asked in a little more concern. "Chris, talk to me, sweetie. Chris!"

Tentatively looking around, she spotted him; half submerged in the rubble of yet another destroyed grandfather clock.

"CHRIS!" she screamed, scrambling over debris.

"L_! L_!" she shouted. "Oh, God, please be alright. God, please be alright."

Finally reaching him, she gently turned him over. He was deathly pale, but that was to be expected.

"Not him, please not him. Not again. God, please, not him. Don't do this to me!" she cried, pulling him onto her lap.

She put two fingers to his neck, praying, "Please have a pulse. Come on, Chris. You can do this. Just breathe…"

She sighed deeply, signaling that he did indeed have a pulse.

"L_! _! _! GET DOWN HERE! CHRIS IS HURT!" she yelled to the skies.

"M-m-mom?" Chris asked weakly, stirring slightly.

"It's alright, Chris," she whispered softly, stroking his hair. "You'll be just fine."

"You 'kay?" he slurred, clearly fighting to hold on to consciousness.

She was silent for a moment, before answering, "You'll be okay, Chris. That's all that matters."

A few moments passed, and I couldn't help but notice the fact that her face seemed awfully pale. Possibly more so than Chris's. But that didn't make any sense… did it?

I had never seen a person die of blood loss. I had never watched as a person keeled over from sheer lack of strength. During my parents' encounter with fate, I had been on the outside, having orbed out on instinct. They had died instantly. No pain. No extreme loss of blood. Instant incineration.

Therefore, it took me a while to get what was happening to the woman in front of us. And even then, I didn't figure it out until she slumped to the side, finally revealing the hole in her side that had presumably been cut when she slammed into the side of the clock.


Finally, after what seemed an eternity, the telltale signs of orbing came about, and, before they had fully formed, we heard a disgruntled voice saying, "I'm sorry honey, the Elders wouldn't let me come – OH MY GOD!" he screamed, cutting off his sentence.

He launched himself at Chris, who clearly looked worse off, and had a much larger puddle of blood around him than his mother did.

Luckily, it only took a few moments to heal. Immediately, he was up and screaming, "HEAL HER! You have to heal her! Why did you heal me first? Go!"

The man rushed over to his wife, the healing glow coming…

…and going.

Chris was standing a small distance away, crying his eyes out.

"It's too late, isn't it?" he whispered in shock.

"NO!" the elder man shouted.

"Why didn't you heal her first?" he demanded.

"She's fine," Chris's father forced out, trying to make the healing glow come again.

"No… she isn't. It isn't working… the demon just wanted revenge… it was the sister of the one before… the one that had me. She wanted to kill me, and finish her sister's work."

"SHUT UP, CHRIS!" his father boomed, waving his hand, and sending the kid across the room.

"OH MY GOD!" I exclaimed. "How could he do that? His wife is dead, so he decides to throw his son across the room? What is wrong with him?"

"Well, Piper, do I have to hand you a list? Although, Chris was being kind of annoying. I probably would've done the same," Matt replied simply, shrugging.

"Okay, so she's dead, right? Can the memory end now?" Phoebe asked. "This is… well, it's awfully depressing."

"Nope. Just one more thing," Matt said softly. "You need to see one more thing."

"YOU!" Chris's father shrieked, rounding on his son. "THIS IS YOUR FAULT! Why didn't you heal her?"

Chris was slumped on the ground next to the wall, curled up in a little ball. "Are you really asking me that question? I was unconscious! And I can't heal! You know that!"

"Maybe if you practiced more, your mother wouldn't be dead," the man screamed. "You could've vanquished that demon. So could've she! But you had to be a little damsel in distress, and she had to protect you! Now look what's happened!"

"Dad, I- it's not my fault. I couldn't- I tried. I had an athame in my gut!" Chris defended weakly. My heart went out to the poor child for the first time in a long time.

"So?" his father sneered. "It's all your fault!"

"No!"

"If you had never been born, your mother would still be alive."

"Please, no," he whispered forlornly.

"LEAVE!" the man screamed, before falling to the ground in what would have been heart-wrenching sobs had he not been a complete and utter asshole.

And Chris orbed out.

"Dude!" Paige exclaimed. "That was… wrong! What kind of dick of a dad would accuse his own son of being at fault for his wife's murder?"

"Yeah," Phoebe added, "What a total asshole! What's this guy's name, so I can strangle him?"

"Can't tell you that," Matt said with a smirk. Then his expression sobered. "But, do you get it now? Do you understand what you've done day in and day out since he got here? Haven't you accused him without basis? Made him feel like he was at fault for everything? And I'll tell you something. Leo? He acts an awful lot like Chris's dad."

"Can we just go back now," I begged. "I need to apologize. I just… I have to let him know. I can't- I just can't do this anymore. I have to apologize."

With a smirk, Matt agreed, "As you wish."

He snapped his fingers, and our surroundings disappeared.


It had taken me a while, but I finally decide to do it.

I was going to spy on Chris's living quarters.

I wasn't sure what made me decide to. Maybe it was because the sisters were missing. Maybe it was because of this mysterious new future-boy who my memory of is rapidly retreating. Maybe it was just as something to do.

Nevertheless, I orbed to P3. It didn't take me long to find his room. It was vacant, and rather clean. No papers scattered around. Nothing. I was about to leave when something caught my eye.

A picture. Not a framed one or anything, just a small piece of paper with a crease down the middle. Curious, I went over and picked it up.

There, smiling up at me, were two young teenagers. One was blonde with blue eyes, a bubblegum pink party hat, and a goofy grin as he gave bunny ears to the other, who looked a little younger and seemed to be in the process of rolling his eyes at the other boy.

If I wasn't mistaken, the younger one was Chris. As for the other… he looked awfully familiar, and if my suspicions were correct, we had made an even worse mistake that I had originally thought.

Flipping it over, my fears were confirmed. For there, written in neat pencil, was the following message.

Wyatt and Chris, 2017

Chris's 13th Birthday


A/N: OH CRAP! What's gonna happen next?

Is that a good enough cliffy for you? I hope it was. I really want to live up to my title.

Unfortunately, my writing has been really sucky lately. I'm seriously disappointed with this chapter. This is like, the least original Piper death I could have possibly come up with. And Leo freaking out at Chris like that? It was what had to happen, but it was laaaaaame.

-sighs-

Now I feel disappointed in myself. I really could've done better with this...

Ah, well. Such is life. Not all of my chapters will be perfect.

Hope you all liked it anyway! I will be taking a brief break from this. I HAVE to finish another story I'm working on. If you're a Xiaolin Showdown fan, can you check it out? It's called Le Morte De Raimundo. I've been postponing the chapter I'm working on for awhile cuz there's a serious turning point. Damn me... I have too many stories in the works and people just don't seem to understand what the word "hiatus" means... Grr...

So, um, hope you like it? REVIEW! We're shooting for 100, people. And if we get there... you get a very good chapter with Piper getting her ass handed to her! I know you all want that, and I AM WILLING TO DELIVER! Just review and give me 100! Come on! Please!

Oh, and I almost forgot, I'm considering switching the story into the third person. As much fun as it is doing everyone's PoV, it's getting confusing to me. So, is it alright with all of you if I switch it to 3rd?