Disclaimer: Nope. Still don't own them. Drat! And here I was hoping that I might wake up this morning and Charmed would belong to me. Since it still doesn't, I'm using these characters without permission… but ya know, I'm not making any money off this. I'm just trying to make my muse happy.

Author's Note: I love getting the positive feedback I've been getting on this and the constructive bits of information that have been so very helpful. I went back and tweaked the scene where Paige and Phoebe figure out that Chris has been hurt - that's back in Chapter Four - and have gone back to catch a few grammar mistakes that I've noticed upon re-reading. Thanks so much to my loyal readers that have stuck with me and have posted reviews for every chapter. Yes, that even goes for you folks that just put "great part!" because it lets me know that you're there. I know this story has gotten a lot of hits, but to that handful of you that have been reviewing. Thank you! To those of you that haven't been reviewing… well, since I don't know who you are or what you're thinking of my story… I sincerely hope that you're enjoying it! Drop me a line! Please! You'll make me a happy author and keep me doing my regular updates.

Just like the update that you're about to read. Without further adieu, here is Chapter 11 of A Handful of Stones. I hope you like it, and I hope it was worth the wait.

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Chris held onto the podium that his family's Book of Shadows should have been resting on. "It's not here," Chris repeated. He didn't want to let go of the podium, because the teenager knew that if he did, his hands would be shaking visibly. He had expected the Book to be there, now that it wasn't he was having a moment of uncertainty over what to do. The vivid image of his parents lying in pools of their own blood attempted to resurface in his mind and he closed his eyes trying to block it out. Closing his eyes was a mistake. It caused the image of those three pale-faced demons holding the athame with his parent's blood to play on the backs of his eyelids. How could she have known about that? How?

"Chris?" Alwynne's lilting voice broke into the boy's thoughts and he opened his blue-green eyes to look at her. She was standing in the middle of the attic with her arms wrapped around herself, looking at him with those soulful blue eyes. How her eyes could be the same shade as hers and be so dynamically different, Chris didn't know. Alwynne's were looking at him now with the first sign of hope that he had seen her have yet, "What's not there?"

"My family's Book of Shadows…" he said softly. He pried his fingers from their death grip on the podium, crossed the attic and sank into the ratty old couch. His mother's blood tracked across the kitchen floor. Chris shuddered.

Alwynne tilted her head to the side watching him and then crossed over to sit down next to him. Before Chris knew it, she was touching his blood stained shirt and examining him, "I've never seen anyone fight back against her before. Not like that. Not successfully."

Chris drew away from her, wrapping his arms around his middle and ignoring the fact that his shirt still felt sticky and damp with blood. He knew he could have changed it, but the thought to do so didn't enter his mind. "Yeah, great, that was real successful. I think I probably only succeeded in pissing her off."

Alwynne drew her legs up to her chest and rested her chin on her knees, "You're a witch, aren't you? Your family has a Book of Shadows, you must be. And that's the reason you wanted to stay and help me when I told you that you should just go and forget about me. It's how you were able to fight back against her… how you learned how to manipulate the Dream so quickly…" She looked at him from under a swath of, now tangled from her encounter with the ravens, red-gold hair, "and I'm sorry for doubting you when you first came."

Chris blinked at her, "Trust me, you don't need to apologize for that. If she's kept you locked up here experiencing anything like…" the teenager took a hitching breath, that familiar self-doubt beginning to edge in, "…yes, I'm a witch. Just not a very useful one."

"You got us away from her," Alwynne said.

"How long will that last?" Chris asked.

Alwynne lifted her shoulders, "I don't know."

Chris put his hands into his face and sighed. He needed to think, come up with a plan of action. He was good at that… he was usually good at that, but having to relive that day had brought up those helpless feelings of insecurity again. Of feeling like a useless fourteen year old witch. "I was really hoping that the Book would be here. That there might be a spell, a potion, something to fight back against her and something to help us get out of here, but it's not there…" Think, Chris. Think… she could be coming right now… he wished Wyatt were here…

A familiar presence tickled in the back of Chris's mind and he jumped off the couch, startling Alwynne with the suddenness. Wyatt! If Wyatt was here… before Chris could finish the thought his brother appeared right in the center of the attic and Chris's jaw dropped when he saw him.

Wyatt was dressed completely in black, had a sword held poised in his hand, a cape flapping around his shoulders, and a mask covering the upper half of his face. Alwynne let out a squeak as she saw him and moved behind Chris. Chris stared at his brother's ridiculous get up and even as shaken as he currently was, couldn't help but let out a snorting laugh. "Let me guess bro, you were dreaming about battling Prince Humperdinck?"

Wyatt turned sharply towards the sound of laughter and then gaped at the sight of his younger brother standing in front of him. Mocking him. For a moment the fog of dreaming still shone in Wyatt's eyes then a blinking recognition of the fact that he could sense his little brother. Wyatt's 'costume' vanished, replaced by the young man's more normal preppy attire, though the colors of the shirts shifted frequently. The elder Halliwell brother dropped the sword and moved over to grab Chris into a tight hug, "Chris!"

"Wyatt, you're crushing me you overgrown ox!"

"I thought I was dreaming for a second, but it is you," he pulled back, only to crush his little brother against his chest again. He hadn't been sure he would have this opportunity again and here he was with Chris standing in front of him, up, walking, talking. Wyatt didn't want to let him go. Chris returned the hug and then swatted at him.

"Wy, I can't breathe!" Chris protested, "You are seriously unhinged."

"I never thought I would be so happy to hear your sarcastic voice," the oldest witch said happily. Wyatt was grinning and a shine of moisture glinted in his blue eyes as he did pull back to get a good look at his brother. He ruffled Chris's mop of dark hair and cupped a hand on the side of Chris's face, looking at him with teary eyes. Chris balked, pulling back from his brother's grasp in confusion.

"What's the matter with you?" Chris asked, "Have you lost your marbles? You're freaking me out."

"I'm just happy to see you again," Wyatt said, paling slightly at the sight of the bloody hole in Chris's shirt. His smile faded and he put a hand over the crimson stain, intending to heal the wound that wasn't there, but Chris swatted his hand away and shook his head. Wyatt frowned, "How?"

"It's fine. No time to explain…" Chris said, harshly trying to keep the horrible memories at bay.

Wyatt looked uncertain, sensing the mood and seeing the seriousness on his brother's face. The older witch wiped at his eyes with the backs of his hands, feeling a touch embarrassed at how relieved he really felt. "Who's she?" Wyatt asked looking at the gorgeous young woman hiding behind his baby brother.

"Wy, this is Alwynne… Alwynne, this emotional nutcase is my big brother Wyatt. Wy, we need your help," Chris said, keeping the introductions short and giving Wyatt a very short Cliff's Notes version of the World of Dreams.

"Wait, is magic keeping you in a coma?" Wyatt asked suddenly.

"Coma? I… I'm in a… Wyatt, we need to focus here! We may not have much time! I need you to wake up and go to the Book. The Daughter of Nightmares, I… let's just say it wasn't a pleasant introduction that we had." Chris shivered back thoughts of the worst day of his life as they threatened to flash all over again. It still woke him up every now and then in the middle of the night in a cold sweat and ever since that day, he hated birthdays. His own, his cousins, it didn't matter. The sight of balloons and streamers just sent chills down Chris's spine. But he had to stay focused, there was no telling how long Wyatt had here and he'd prefer his brother get out of here so that he could help them. Chris might not have access to the book here, but Wyatt could get to it in the Waking World "What did you call her Alwynne? In case it's listed in the Book under that."

"Tromlui d'iníon. But... her real name is Lillith…"

"Right, go to the Book and look that up Wyatt. Get a spell; make a potion, whatever… never mind how you're going to get a potion to me from the Waking World to here. I haven't solved that problem yet… can you do that?"

"…I…what? Wait, you want me to leave you here to battle some woman who can bring your worst nightmares into reality?"

"Yes, Wyatt, that's what I'm asking you to do. I can't wake up. You just told me yourself that I'm in a coma. Even if I could, I'm not going to leave Alwynne here against her alone… I think I made her mad. I don't want her taking it out on an innocent."

"Chris! You can't be serious!"

"I AM serious! Now wake your lazy ass up and do this for me!"

The room started darkening and Alwynne grabbed onto Chris, "…she found us…"

"Wyatt, get out of here," Chris said.

Wyatt looked torn. He really didn't want to leave his little brother, much less leave him to fight some evil by himself when he was so obviously (at least to Wyatt) afraid. Wyatt sighed and then giving Chris a fierce hug, he closed his eyes and vanished from the World of Dreams. Just as he vanished, the door to the attic was thrust open and inky shadows began to seep into the room. Chris protectively put himself in front of Alwynne again.

"A witch," the woman's voice said from the rapidly deepening shadows in the attic, but Chris couldn't see her or tell where the words were coming from, "That was an unexpected surprise…"

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Wyatt woke up with a gasp, jerking himself upright. He nearly fell out of the chair he was sitting in. On the opposite side of Chris's bed his Aunt Phoebe yelped in surprise at her nephew. Wyatt blinked, having expected his mother to be sitting there, then realizing she must have left him alone to let him sleep. Sleep. He had fallen asleep and he had communicated with Chris in some strange Dream Realm. Wyatt looked up at the clock on the wall. Three hours? I was asleep for three hours? He'd felt like he had only been asleep for ten, maybe twenty minutes at the most.

Wyatt bolted to his feet, letting go of his little brother's hand and looking at Chris's face. Don't worry little brother. I'll find a way to help you… he thought.

Phoebe looked at Wyatt, "Wyatt, sweetie, is everything okay?"

Wyatt didn't answer her, he just grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and left Chris's room hastily. Three hours had passed while he had been sleeping. He had fallen asleep to the sound of his mother's voice reading, and had been dreaming, and then he had found himself in that Dream Realm with his brother. His brother! Chris. Chris up and walking around and talking to him and making fun of him for having a hokey dream. Wyatt pushed open the doors to get out of the ICU.

The blonde witch walked past the waiting room where the rest of his family remained and waved a hand vaguely to motion that someone else could go back with Chris now. Wyatt had a mission now. Magic was keeping his little brother in a coma. Magic. Something that Wyatt could do something about. If he wasn't worried to death about Chris, he would have been elated at the fact that this was something that he could actually help with. Sure doing this wouldn't heal his little brother's physical injuries… but… it was something.

Wyatt pushed the rest room door open and walked inside. He had to get back to the house and to the book. His little brother needed him. The Twice Blessed Witch quickly checked under all the stalls, saw one set of feet under one of the doors and frowned. He'd have to wait until whomever that was left before he could orb out. So, instead, he went to the sink and turned on the water.

A splash of cold water on his face was refreshing. He still had dark circles under his eyes, but those three hours of sleep had done wonders for Wyatt. It wasn't the sleep itself that had energized him though. It was getting back in contact with his little brother after he had been so afraid that he wouldn't be able to do that ever again.

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"Leo, would you go check on him?" Piper asked when she saw her eldest son walk past the waiting room in a hurry to get somewhere. She was worried about him. He had been so exhausted he hadn't even heard her leave, and he hadn't woken up when first his father and then his Aunt Phoebe took the second spot visiting Chris. Now he was up and moving past the door with such purpose in his step that she couldn't shake her concern.

Leo Wyatt stood up, "Of course, honey." He was worried about his first-born son too. Getting up the ex-Whitelighter walked out into the hallway to follow Wyatt.

The blonde-haired boy walked into the bathroom and Leo paused, wondering if that was all there was to the rush. He waited outside for just a moment until another man came out, then frowning, walked in after Wyatt just to make sure he wasn't ill or something. Lack of sleep could do that to a person. Leo opened his mouth to say something then closed it when he saw Wyatt checking underneath the stall doors.

When Wyatt turned around and saw his father he jumped about a foot off the ground.

"What is going on Buddy?" Leo asked.

"I've got to go back to the house. I talked to Chris, he needs help…"

"Wyatt, you were sleeping, you had a dream about talking to your brother because you were worried about him," Leo rationalized, "Why don't you come back to the waiting room with me?"

"No Dad. I talked to him. It was him, not a dream. I have to get to the Book of Shadows. He's in trouble and trapped in a… you know what, I don't have time for this. My brother needs me." He left in a swirl of orbs.

Leo stood there staring at the spot that his eldest son had been standing in. "Wyatt!" With a frustrated sigh that he couldn't follow after his son, Leo went back to the waiting room to break the news to Piper. They were going to have to do something about Wyatt. He wasn't taking this well at all.

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Piper Halliwell and Leo Wyatt walked into the Manor several hours later and were worried about how deathly quiet the house was. Piper would have thought Wyatt may have come home and gone to bed under other circumstances. With his stubborn refusal to sleep since his brother's accident, though, the eldest Charmed Sister knew better. She had wanted to send Paige to the Manor to check on Wyatt immediately, but Phoebe had talked her out of it. Now Piper was regretting listening to her empathic middle sibling.

She didn't think Wyatt would do any harm to himself, at least, she hoped he wouldn't. He would however call that half-demon friend of his to go off and do something stupid. That was why the unnatural silence of the Manor worried Piper so much. Then there was the worry that in the state Wyatt was in, he might be easy pickings for an attack from any demon in the underworld that sought to take advantage of his current vulnerability. She left Leo standing in the doorway, leaving the man to have to follow behind her as she moved into their home. Her husband had said something about Wyatt thinking he had spoken to Chris and that he had to go home to check the Book of Shadows.

Piper started towards the stairs. As she got to the third step a very loud and house-shaking BOOM! sounded from the upper level of the Manor. Piper broke into a run up the rest of the stairs with Leo hot on her heals as a second foundation rattling explosion went off from the attic above. KABOOM!

Piper practically threw the attic door off of its hinges when she got to it. Her hands were raised, ready to send whatever demon was wrecking her house to kingdom come. Instead she found Wyatt flat on his back, having smashed into the table and chairs waving smoke away. There were scorch marks along the walls and the attic was in ruins. Not from demons though. From the now overturned cauldron of smoking red gel that was eating into the floor.

"Oh. My. God."

Wyatt coughed and sat up painfully, his face smudged with soot, "Too much powdered toadstool…" It was like he hadn't even noticed his parents come in.

"Wyatt Matthew Halliwell, what in heaven's name are you doing?" Piper asked, aghast.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he asked, pushing himself up and brushing pieces of splintered furniture off of himself. His parents continued to stand in the doorway looking at the destruction he had single handedly managed to cause to the attic. He ignored them, picked up the steaming pot with telekinesis, brought it back over close to him and righted it, while he crossed to pick up the Book of Shadows again.

Piper glared at him, "It looks like you're destroying the house, young man."

Wyatt made a noncommittal sound, grabbing potion ingredients again to start from scratch. He threw in some willow bark, two leaves of arrowroot, three drops of almond oil… Wyatt's forehead was creased with concentration. Piper started across the attic towards him, chocolate eyes filled with concern. "…eucalyptus seed, dragon's blood…"

Piper grabbed Wyatt's hand before he could put in the powdered toadstool again and shook her head at him. The seventeen-year-old's jaw tightened, "Mom, let me finish this."

Piper pulled him back away from the cauldron and gently took the potion ingredient from his hand. "No, Wyatt. You're going to hurt yourself. Or blow up the Manor. Possibly both at this rate. That is quite enough."

Wyatt angrily jerked his hand out of his mother's grip and glared across towards his Dad, "Tell her! Did you tell her? Mom, I talked to Chris. I talked to him! He needs help! He needs me to make a vanquishing potion and get him a spell so that he can fight the Daughter of Nightmares!"

"Son, you were dreaming," Leo said gently as he moved to join his wife and child, gently resting a hand upon Wyatt's arm.

Wyatt let out a cry of frustration and the lights above exploded, sending the room into darkness. The only light coming in was that from the hallway beyond the open door. He winced and rubbed his hands over his tired eyes. Piper and Leo exchanged worried glances. "You aren't listening to me!"

"I think you should go to bed, Wyatt," Piper said, resting a hand on her son's back, "You're exhausted and you have school in the morning…"

Wyatt turned to stare with his mouth hanging open at his mother. She couldn't be serious! School?! "I can't believe you! I'm not going, you cannot possibly expect me to go to school after this! I… Chris needs me! He's in danger! He's in some kind of Dream Realm trying to protect an innocent and magic is keeping him there! He's--"

"That is ENOUGH, Wyatt!" Piper snapped, silencing him, "I know that you want to be able to do something for your brother, but making up imaginary Dream Realms and demons that are keeping him there is not the way to go about it. I am not going to discuss this any more. You are going to go to bed and you are going to go to school tomorrow and then you can go to the hospital and see your brother again. But you are going to stop this nonsense right now."

Leo didn't say anything, but he was a silent supporter of his wife.

"MOM!" Wyatt exclaimed angrily, "He's in a coma because of magic!"

Piper pointed her finger towards the door, her face stormy. "Wyatt Matthew Halliwell go to your room and go to bed. Magic is not responsible for this as much as you might be wishing it was so that you could do something about it. Quit this before you hurt yourself. I cannot handle both of my sons being in the hospital. Have I made myself clear?"

Wyatt's eyes narrowed and he turned and stormed out of the attic, "Crystal."

A few seconds later Piper and Leo both heard the door to Wyatt's room slam shut. The worried mother lifted her hands to her temples and blew out a breath, squeezing her eyes closed to block out the tears. She had just lost her temper with her son and had yelled at him for trying to do something that he thought would be constructive and helpful to his brother. Leo gave her a gentle hug before he started picking up the ruins of the attic.

"He doesn't have to go to school tomorrow," Piper whispered softly as she wrapped her arms around herself, looking at the door he'd just stormed out of, "I don't know what made me say that. He's so upset, it would be horrible of me to make him go to school and suffer through that with Chris in the hospital. I should go talk to him and apologize… He probably hates me."

"Let him cool off Piper," Leo said, turning the couch right side up again. He looked at his wife, "Wyatt doesn't hate you."

"He needed me to be supportive and I just pulled the rug out from under him Leo, what kind of mother does that?"

"One who is exhausted, stressed, and worried about both of her children," Leo said, walking over to her, "Come on, let's take the advice you gave to Wyatt and get some sleep. We can finish cleaning this mess up in the morning."

As the couple left the room, they didn't see the page that Wyatt had the Book of Shadows turned to that would have given some proof to his words. An entry about 'Lillith - Daughter of Nightmares' and what looked like freshly written ink on the opposite page in Prue's handwriting: Domhan'al'taibhream - The World of Dreams.

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"A witch. That was an unexpected surprise."

The chilling voice reverberated in Chris's ears as the shadows crept further into the room. He swallowed hard. Hurry Wy. Don't let me down, please. Wyatt had never let him down before. He really hoped his brother would be able to find something in the Book. "Stay behind me," Chris said to Alwynne, trying to sound braver than he felt at that moment.

Alwynne was holding onto his hand, looking around at the encroaching darkness. The room felt smaller, but it was probably only because the all encompassing light of the Dreamworld was being swallowed whole by Lillith's darkness.

"I applaud you Alwynne. You've finally found someone who is a worthy opponent," the woman's voice whispered from everywhere and nowhere, "Breaking this one will actually be enjoyable."

Disembodied laughter filled the room, chilling enough to raise the hairs on the back of Chris's neck. He wished the woman would show herself. He couldn't decide if hearing her and not being able to see her was more intimidating that laying eyes upon the white-clad woman.

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday dear Christopher…"

Chris ran forward, tugging Alwynne's hand and dragging the girl behind him. They needed to get out of the attic. Get somewhere else. He had no idea how long they could possibly run away from her, but he hoped it would be long enough for Wyatt to get him some ammunition to use. Hearing that song sung by Lillith's voice in sickeningly honeyed tones had the boy's heart racing again. He had to protect Alwynne though. He would protect her.

When he stepped through the attic door, hoping to get some other momentary escape for himself and Alwynne, everything rippled. Chris staggered forward finding himself in the front foyer of the Manor, still holding Alwynne's hand. The soft humming tune of 'Happy Birthday' continued chillingly. Chris's breath hitched and his nostrils flared as his eyes widened in fear. Steamers, balloons, the Manor exactly as it had been the day he'd come home and found his parents dying and had very nearly died himself.

Alwynne let go of his hand and moved up next to him in confusion, "What's the matter?"

Chris couldn't answer her, he felt ill, he wanted to back up into a corner and curl into a ball right then. Some hero he was. A few streamers, a 'Happy Birthday' banner, a bunch of balloons and he was a wreck. The day had already been replayed for him once. He wasn't sure if he could handle going through it again. The dark-haired witch's breaths began to hyperventilate and he backed up until his back rested against the door. "…no… please…"

"….Chris?" Alwynne turned to look at him, her lilting voice faltering with fear. She didn't understand. Couldn't understand what was waiting for them. What those birthday decorations symbolized. Her blue eyes moved from Chris to look back into the house beyond and she reached for his hand, "Chris?"

Chris shook his head, trying to snap himself out of it. It was near impossible, his heart was thundering away. He closed his eyes, swallowing back the fear, just don't go in the kitchen or the dining room. This has already happened, Mom and Dad are fine… Wy got there… everything turned out okay… He had to keep himself together, otherwise he wasn't going to be any good at protecting Alwynne.

He took her hand and started pulling her towards the living room, trying fiercely to ignore the decorations. So many of them had been torn. Balloons popped. His green eyes were nearly completely blue, his jaw quivering despite his best efforts to keep it from doing so.

"Happy Birthday, dear Christopher… Happy Birthday to you."

"Chris… what is this…?" Alwynne whispered in a quavering voice.

"The worst day of my life," Chris breathed. He took her into the living room and was met with something that was just as horrible as seeing his parents lying in pools of their own blood.

"Wyatt!" Chris felt the scream ripping from his throat. He nearly fell over when he spotted him. The whole room felt like it was tilting and spinning and Chris had to catch himself on the doorframe. He felt like he couldn't breathe. No. No, no, no, no, no… the word kept repeating in his head. As though, if he said it enough to himself it wouldn't be true. Alwynne gasped, but Chris didn't hear her. He didn't hear anything beyond the deafening thunder of his heart. Couldn't move.

Wyatt wasn't moving. There was not even the faintest rise and fall of the blonde witch's chest. He lay on his side, his expression slack, and his complexion chalky white from blood loss. The crimson liquid had spread across the carpet around the Twice Blessed Witch, had stained his clothes in a circle that centered over his heart. Wyatt was dead.

His best friend in the entire world was dead and all Chris could do was stand there in the doorway and stare, frozen at the scene in front of him. "…w…w…." Chris couldn't say his brother's name again, not knowing that he wasn't going to get an answer back. He couldn't sense his brother. He couldn't sense anything. But he could see Wyatt's lifeless body laying there right in front of him. Chris's heart was pounding so hard against his ribs it was making the boy dizzy.

Alwynne rested a hand on his arm and he shook her off. There was no rational thought left to be had. Chris staggered forwards, breaking his paralysis and moved as if through quicksand towards his brother. It had to be some mistake. It had to be. It didn't happen this way… it…

Chris sank to his knees, not caring that his brother's blood was now soaking into his jeans from where he knelt in it. No. Not Wyatt. Chris blinked back tears, trying to breathe. He was afraid to touch Wyatt. The boy closed his eyes, begging that when he opened them this would all be gone. When he opened them it wasn't. Wyatt was still there. Wyatt's body, Chris amended. His hands were trembling when he felt for the pulse that he knew he wouldn't find.

Alwynne couldn't move, didn't know what she could have done if she had stepped forward to join Chris, but her hands covered her mouth in absolute horror now. Tears were running down her cheeks, but they were nothing compared to what Chris was going through in that moment. The boy didn't even recognize the anguished cry that left his lips as he doubled over, folding himself over Wyatt and clinging to him.

"I own this place boy," the voice that was as smooth as silk and chilling as nails on a chalkboard whispered into the air, "Did you think I wouldn't know he was here too? I know everything that happens in my domain." She went back to humming 'Happy Birthday' from here hidden vantage point.

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Author's Note: I know... that was evil. I know... but what else could make Chris nightmare about his parent's death even worse? Write me a review. Encourage me to continue the story. And let me know just how wretchedly evil you think I am for doing that. ;)