xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Chris let out a low groan as he slowly began to open his eyes.

For a moment, he was disoriented—but as his vision cleared he was relieved to see that he was laying in his bedroom back at the manor. Clearly, after the attack in the university courtyard, someone had transported him home for a bit of much-needed rest.

After closing his eyes for another few moments and gathering his strength, the young man slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position. This was a slight hint of pain in his arm where the arrow had struck but other than that he seemed to be alright. He was definitely drained, though. For some reason, this strike had taken way more out of him than it should have and he briefly wondered what had made this situation so different.

"Chris!"

He turned his head abruptly to discover that he was not alone in the dimly lit room. Apparently, his overprotective mother had been stationed in the chair behind him and she rushed over to his side. Chris did his best to suppress an eye-roll. He didn't want to seem ungrateful for her concern, but he wasn't a child and he didn't need her at his bedside, even when he was ill. But, he supposed, his mother had just been though a hell of a lot and was probably more prone to worry than ever.

He did his best to muster a small smile.

"Hey mom." He said, his throat a bit dry as he forced out his first few words. "How long have I been out?"

Piper sit down at the edge of his bed, her relief apparent as she surveyed her youngest son.

"About a hour." She informed him as her breathing began to steady. "Prue said that you had only been struck by the arrow about three minutes before we arrived—we've all been worried sick. Usually the poison doesn't work that fast and when you didn't wake up right away…"

She trailed off, the thought clearly too much for her to handle.

He couldn't really blame her for worrying. Not after Phoebe.

Chris tried to give her a reassuring smile.

"You father assured me that you would be fine and that these things can just take time. Thank goodness he was right." She finished before reaching out to give his hand a tight squeeze.

Chris nodded. It wasn't the first time he'd been attacked by a darklighter. He and his siblings had always been high on their list of targets and he'd been struck a few times before. He usually felt a bit shaky for a few hours after he was healed but he had never passed out before.

And it had been so quick.

Something was definitely amiss.

As much as he didn't want to worry her, he needed to know more.

"Any leads on the darklighter?" He asked, his mind racing as he tried to recall if he had read or heard anything relevant lately. If something was brewing they would need to deal with it quickly—Quintu was the main priority right now and they did not need super-powered darklighters providing a dangerous distraction.

Unfortunately, Piper shook her head.

"Not yet." She said with a small sigh. "Prue took the arrow to magic school for examination and your dad is up there checking to see if the elders know why the poison seemed to so strong."

He could see her eyes begin to redden and before he could say anything his mom drew him in for a tight hug. He could almost feel the worry radiating off of her as she held him close.

"Oh sweetheart." She whispered into his shoulder before pulling back slightly. "Maybe you should keep a low profile until we can figure this out." She began hopefully. "Take a week or two off school and stay home where it's safe. I hate that you're such a target now—and if the darklighters are plotting something, we need to keep you safe."

Chris had to fight back his natural annoyance. He understood that she was his mother and thus she would always worry, but he hated being babied and did not like the implication that he needed protection.

Sure, he may not have had the best offensive powers, but he was undoubtedly powerful and fully capable of taking care of himself.

There was no way he was going to stand back and hide, especially when he knew that the Charmed Ones needed him.

"Mom, I'm twenty-three." He pointed out, doing his best to keep his voice steady. "I get that you want to keep me safe but you know that's not always possible in this family."

Piper opened her mouth to protest but Chris continued before she could.

"The girls need me, and after tonight I'll be on high alert."

"I just hate the thought of you being so vulnerable—"

This time, Chris could not suppress a small eye roll.

Why was he always the target of her worry? He wasn't the only one with whitelighter blood, not by a long shot. And as far as he knew, she wasn't proposing that his siblings hide inside the manor.

Piper had always been extra protective of him and he had never really figured out why.

"Wyatt, Mel and Paige are just as vulnerable as I am. And dad is probably more so." He frowned briefly at the thought. If the poison had gotten to him, a half-breed, so quickly he did not what to think about what might happen to his dad. If anyone needed to stay safe, it was Leo. "I guess you think drew the short straw when I got stuck with all of the pacifist powers, but I am not helpless." He pointed out. "Worst case scenario, I can always orb out, okay? So don't worry. I'll be fine."

There was a pause before Piper threw her hands up in resignation.

Clearly, she was not pleased about the thought of letting him go about his business unprotected, but she also knew who she was dealing with.

"As noble as you father and as stubborn as me." She muttered, shaking her head slowly.

Chris smirked, glad to finally hear a bit of levity in her voice.

"You only have yourselves to blame." He shrugged before he pushed his blanket off and swung his legs over the side of his bed.

The longer he sat up the better he felt and he was keen to get back on task as soon as possible. But, before he refocused on Quintu, there was one more thing he wanted to do.

"I didn't get to eat those banana pancakes this morning, you know." He said as he placed a hand on his empty stomach. "Are they still in the fridge? Can we heat them up?"

The thought of him finally enjoying her lovingly prepared meal brought a smile to his mother's face and she nodded joyfully. "Of course, sweetheart." She replied as she stood up and placed a quick kiss atop his dark hair.

Chris smiled back. It had been a terrible evening and there was much to be done, but he was looking forward to one blissful moment of normalcy.

Demons, darklighters and destinies could wait for another half hour.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Perhaps it wasn't too surprising in the circumstances, but very little progress was made that night.

Leo had orbed into the kitchen and told them what he had learned from the elders (which was not much, aside from some rumours that a few families of darklighters had begun to brew stronger poisons). By the time they had finished discussing that situation, Chris had sensed that Prue, Parker and Peyton were all home in bed and had decided that it would be best not to bother him. Yes, he was keen to tell them about his research on Quintu but he also knew that they deserved some rest after another stressful day. And, to be honest, he still hadn't been feeling very well himself.

Deciding to do things the mortal way for a change, he had texted Prue before heading off to bed and they had agreed to convene in the attic the next morning at nine.

Unfortunately for Chris, he had woken up at six after a few hours sleep and had been forced to occupy himself as he waited for the girls.

The logical part of his brain knew that he should have been using the time for his chemistry assignment but he had quickly discovered that his mind simply wasn't able to focus on that right now. He hoped this was a temporary blip for him—he'd always been such a focused student, and he didn't want his magical duties to get in the way of his drive. But, it seemed, magic was all he could think about right now and that was unsettling to him.

He'd always managed to maintain a fairly normal life and he had prided himself in that. Yes, he had done his duty whenever needed and would never let an innocent suffer, but that side of himself had never felt like it was consuming him.

Now, however, he was beginning to wonder if things could ever be the same. Even after they vanquished Quintu, he would still be the Charmed One's whitelighter. This was a new state of affairs and things had not really had time to sink in yet. He'd accepted his task for the sake of his cousins, and he did not regret that—but what was it really going to mean for him long term? Was a mortal life and a career really attainable anymore?

Sure, his father had managed to balance whitelighter duties and teaching at magic school, but that was different. No one there would bat an eye if he suddenly needed to orb out. But, if everything went to plan, that would not be an option for Chris. He had planned to work a regular job with regular people. He couldn't just dissolve into a column of twinkling blue lights every time he was called. Nor would it be fair to bring danger to innocents around him. As last night had seemed to make clear, he was a target, now more than ever. What if someone got caught in the crossfire?

He could not let that happen.

But the only way to reduce those risks would be to relinquish his role and he wasn't sure if he could turn his back on his cousins like that. As frustrating as the Halliwell clan could be a times, his family meant everything to him. If this was destined to be his contribution then he felt duty-bound to see it through. He'd already accepted it far more than he thought possible—and, if he was being entirely honest, there was something about the situation that simply felt natural to him.

Being the Charmed One's whitelighter had sounded crazy and unwelcome at first, but after a few short days, those initial hesitations were fading.

It almost felt as if he had done this before, even though he knew it was impossible.

Something was driving him forward and he found himself giving into these inner drives. He wanted to guide, to push, to research, to protect. It was uncomfortable to admit to all of that, but he supposed it was simply genetic.

He took after his father, and there was nothing he could do to change that.

Maybe his mortal charade had simply expired and it was time to embrace what he was.

Letting out a small sigh, Chris looked out into the back garden. He had been sitting on the couch in the sunroom nursing a cup of coffee as he enjoyed the rare silence of the manor.

As much as he wished he had managed more sleep, it was nice to be alone for a bit. The house was usually buzzing with energy and movement as various family members (along with attackers and innocents) came and went.

But right now, it was calm and Chris could not stop an unusual idea from crossing his mind. After listening for a second to make sure that there was no movement from upstairs, the young man placed his mug down on the table and crossed his legs.

Already feeling a bit foolish, he hesitated for a moment before drawing a deep breath and closing his eyes.

For the most part, he had always listened to his dad during their training sessions and had quickly mastered every new power that had been thrown his way. But, despite Leo's insistence on its usefulness, Chris had never really embraced meditation. He was generally much too impatient for such things and since he had figured out how to control his powers without "centring" himself first, he had figured it was pointless.

But right now, in the silence of the morning, he figured it might be worth a shot.

His dad always said it was the best way for a whitelighter to balance themselves, and there was no doubt that Chris was beginning to feel out of balance. His life had always seemed to be following a set path and he had been so sure of himself.

Until now…

Everything was different, and maybe he just needed a moment of calm.

The young man tried to focus on nothing but his breaths and it did not take long for him to feel a surge of power flow through him.

He could feel his body begin to hover above the couch and as he briefly glanced down he could see a swirl of orbs circling beneath him, keeping him afloat.

Chris closed his eyes and continued to breathe, his mind clearing itself of the stress and worry of the past few days.

For a brief, blissful second, there was nothing but warmth and light.

He felt the call of something above and a wave of peacefulness overcame him before an unexpected sight filtered into view. It was hazy and distant, but he saw his mother's face, decades younger, her hair pulled back into a tight bun. She was looking at him, suspicion etched on her face.

He was a stranger to her.

"You can orb? You're a whitelighter?"

Chris heard his mother's voice whisper from a distant past.

Then suddenly…

"What the hell?"

Chris opened his eyes abruptly to see his sister standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips. His focus instantly gone, the young man came crashing back to the ground and landed on the couch with a slightly painful jolt.

"Ouch." He muttered, rubbing his back as Mel took a few steps into the room and sat across from him on one of the old wicker chairs. "It's not nice to sneak up on people, you know."

The girl shrugged as she continued to look at him skeptically. "I didn't know you were in here." She replied, crossing her arms across her chest. "The room looked empty—I'm not exactly used to looking for my brother on the ceiling."

"You know I can hover."

"Yeah, but you never do." She quickly replied. "But I guess if you're embracing all of the whitelighter stuff I don't know what to expect anymore."

Although she did not sound as angry and annoyed as she had during their argument yesterday Chris could tell that Mel was still not pleased about the situation. Still, he was happy that she seemed willing to talk and had (hopefully) calmed down a little bit during the past day.

His sister hesitated. "Were you…meditating?" She asked as she glanced back up towards where she had found him.

Chris felt a flush spread across his cheeks as he reluctantly nodded.

"I was thinking about things and dad always goes on and on about how it helps bring clarity so I figured it was worth a shot. I didn't think anyone else was awake yet."

There was a pause and Chris braced himself for her sarcastic jibes. But they never came.

"Well, did it?" She asked, leaning back against the chair as she waited curiously for an answer.

He was a bit taken aback by her non-judgemental demeanour and it took him a second to formulate his response.

"A bit, I guess." He began with a shrug. "I mean, I didn't do it for long—but I do feel calmer now." He paused for a moment, briefly dwelling on the confusing image of his mother that he had seen. "Not sure if anything is clearer, though. My life is still pretty fucked up."

Mel raised an eyebrow as he spoke and she gave him a long glance before she replied.

"Fucked up?" She asked skeptically as she continued to look at her usually well-composed brother. "Hectic, sure. But you're still as brilliant as ever, and now you're going to be a doctor AND the Charmed One's whitelighter. You're pretty damn important, Chris. That's enough to make some people jealous, I bet."

Thankfully, Mel cracked a small smile and Chris was unable to hold back a chuckle. Yes, she was definitely in a better mood today and he was relieved that they could talk things through.

"Some people, huh?" He asked, giving her a pointed glance.

His sister stuck out her tongue. "I'm sorry about yesterday, okay?" She said, raising her arms in defeat. "I was just shocked—and yeah, a bit jealous. But mostly I was freaking out." She paused, glancing down at the floor as her face began to fall. "This family has been through a lot and I don't love the idea that the cycle is continuing." Mel admitted, confirming what Wyatt had suggested yesterday during their chat. "Mom and dad told me about the darklighter last night when I got home from my shift at the club and I hardly slept. You know me, I'm never up this early. But it was too hard to relax. I'm glad…"

She trailed off as she looked back up at Chris and offered him a small smile. "It's good to see that you're okay."

The young man smiled back. He knew that she always had a hard time admitting when she was wrong and it meant a lot that she was so concerned. There was a lot of love under all of the sibling tension and he was relieved that this would not develop into one of their epic week long arguments.

He needed his family right now. Especially his siblings. They could understand better than anyone else possibly could.

"I'm fine." He said reassuringly as he nestled into the couch and looked towards her. "Things do feel pretty messed up, though." He continued, deciding to share some of what was on his mind. "The more I think about everything the less I think I can pull it all off." Chris hesitated before he finished. "Maybe I'll have to give up on the hope of a normal life."

Mel instantly let out a scoff.

"You may be a lot of things, Christopher Halliwell, but you are not a quitter." She said, her face set with her trademark defiance. There was no doubt that she had inherited that look from their mother.

"It's not really about quitting, Mel." He replied with a sigh. Despite her assertion, he did not share her firm confidence. "But all of this has thrown my plans for a loop. I went up to the elders determined to tell them no at all costs. But when I found out it was for the cousins I couldn't turn them down and now, even after a few days—" Chris hesitated, not quite sure if he was ready to make his admission, especially to her. "This whole whitelighter thing, it just feels right." He said, his voice much softer than it had been before. "Even though I don't want it to."

It was uncomfortable to embrace this fact, and it felt weird to say it out loud. But, he supposed, it was better to discuss it and figure out what to do then to simply keep repressing his feelings. He had probably been repressing things for longer than he realized.

He half expected Mel to roll her eyes and go on a rant about the elders but instead she sat contemplatively.

"Well, it has always been your dominant side, power wise." She noted. "And it's not really the same as just being a witch, even I know that." There was another pause. "Witches are just people who can use magic. Whitelighters are—"

"An entirely different species." He said glumly, finishing his sister's thought. That fact had been pointed out to him rather bluntly over the past few days and he was doing his best to come to terms with it. "Angelic beings, not humans."

"Right." Mel agreed with a nod. "And we're caught somewhere in between. Always doomed to be both and neither." She gave him another thoughtful look. "Especially you."

The boy raised an eyebrow. Sure, he'd developed more of the powers associated with being a whitelighter, but he wasn't entirely sure why he was a special case. Before he could ask, his sister continued.

"I mean, Wyatt has the whole twice-blessed thing going on and that seems to give him a bit more of a wiccan kick." She began. "And I probably shouldn't have inherited any whitelighter powers because I was conceived when dad was mortal again—but apparently the residual whitelighter DNA means that I can orb. And Aunt Paige being a Charmed One always gave her a wiccan focus too…." The girl trailed off as they caught each other's eye. "At least, it did until recently." Mel added softly.

"But you—" She began again, looking back up at her brother. "You're the first and only straightforward blend of witch and whitelighter. Well, elder, technically. But that's a job not a power boost. You weren't born with a prophesy or special status."

"Gee, way to make a guy feel special." Chris piped in half-jokingly.

He did see her point. All of the other witchlighters in the family were more complicated than he was and that had seemed to push them more firmly towards their wiccan sides. But his birth had been as normal as possible for the offspring of a Charmed One and her guardian angel.

"And you of all people know about genetics and all that scientific stuff." Mel pointed out with a wave of her hand. "I'm guessing that in regular circumstances, the whitelighter genes are just dominant. That isn't really shocking—whitelighters don't fight, but they technically have way more powers than witches do. Witches are people with a magical power or two. Whitelighters are magic. It kinda makes sense that you feel that side so strongly."

Chris stared at her for a moment, impressed by her deductions. He had spent a lot of time thinking these things through, especially recently—but he had never quite seen it like that. It was easy to underestimate whitelighters as a species since they did not often make a show of their power. But, as Chris knew all too well, there were so many facets to their magic. He could feel the buzz of it constantly.

He would never know what it felt like to simply be human.

"We're even more doomed than regular whitelighters, you know." Chris noted, deciding to share what he had learned from the elders over the past few days. "When I first when up there I asked them to clip my wings."

Mel's eyes widened in surprise.

"But they said that's not possible. They can do it to regular whitelighters because they were human at one point. They have a form they can go back to." Chris gave a sad smile. "But, apparently, if they clip our wings it would kill us."

His sister starred at him, wide-eyed, as she tried to absorb that news. She may not have had many powers but her ability to orb was more than enough to make her a witchlighter too. The same rules would undoubtedly apply.

"Can't wait to tell mom that one." She said with a small snort. Chris instantly imagined the sound of breaking glass followed by a string of expletives about the elders.

The siblings exchanged a knowing glance.

"Look, Chris." Mel began again. "I get that I'm just your annoying little sister and you probably don't think I know much about anything."

He rolled his eyes. That wasn't true and she knew it, but he allowed her to continue.

"But I know you." She stated firmly with another confident nod. "Maybe a few things are going to have to change, but you're going to be fine. Embracing this whitelighter stuff doesn't mean you're weak, and it definitely doesn't mean you're giving up. It's part of who you are and you're going to find a way to make everything work."

As she spoke, Chris could not hold back a wide smile. This was not his first pep talk, but it meant a lot coming from the person who was usually the most hesitant to declare her support. He appreciated her vote of confidence more than he could possibly say.

"Thanks, Mel." The young man said as he stood up from his spot on the couch. "That helps. A lot, actually."

The girl smiled back.

"Maybe I should be the one giving the whitelighter pep-talks after all." She joked with a wink.

Chris laughed. Sure, she did have her moments of clarity—but it was still hard to picture Melinda being the calm one in a moment of crisis.

"Anything is possible." He noted after letting out a playful scoff.

He paused for a moment as his sister examined him once more.

"Off to do some demonic research for your charges then?" She asked, sounding more curious than judgemental.

The young man shook his head.

"Nope, I've actually got a chemistry assignment to finish." He replied, glancing up towards his room. "The demonic stuff can wait a bit."

Mel wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Science and whitelighter duty." She muttered, shaking her head. He could tell from her tone that she was going for a playful jibe. "You really are boring, aren't you big brother?"

Chris gave her one last dramatic roll of his eyes as he finally began to make his way upstairs.

Despite their vast differences, he knew that she supported him. Maybe, that would give him the strength he needed to continue.

He was going to need all the help he could get.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx