Title: The Nature of Memory

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Summary: When Chris loses his memories, it's up to the sisters to try to help him. But when a familiar stranger comes to visit, can Chris remember his past before it kills him?

Chapter Thirteen: Careful What You Wish For

…careful what you wish for, because you might just get it all…

Resistance Stronghold, 2025

"I told you," Henry said, standing firmly in front of the door to Melinda's room and attempting to glare at the three Charmed Ones, "Melinda doesn't want to see anyone right now."

"Let her tell us that herself," Phoebe requested, trying to remain calm and polite when all she really wanted to do was smack this young man upside the head. He was standing in between her and her daughter, and she was not about to let him dictate who she could and couldn't see.

"She asked me to tell you," Henry said, taking a slow breath. He looked at Phoebe, willing himself to view her as just another witch and not the younger version of a woman who would one day be his aunt. "She might feel up to talking to you later, but right now she just wants to be left alone."

"We need to talk to her," Phoebe begged. "I need to see her, I need to…" She just needed to know that everything was going to be okay, that her daughter was alive and as happy as one could be, given the time in which she lived.

"You can see her later," Henry said through gritted teeth. "After all, you guys aren't going anywhere yet, are you?" They hadn't found a spell or a potion that would take them to the past, at least not one that didn't need to be said over the Nexus.

"Look, kid, I don't know who you think you are," Piper said, deciding to add her opinion to the debate, "but Phoebe is Melinda's mother. She has a right to see her daughter if she wants."

"She isn't Melinda's mother yet," Henry said softly. "And she hasn't been a presence in our lives for a very long time." He didn't think over his words before he said them, and was silently thankful that no one seemed to notice his slip-up when he used the words our lives.

Phoebe flinched at the reminder of her death and hesitated, suddenly unsure and nervous. "Maybe we should give her some time…"

"Phoebe!" Paige reprimanded, "you can't let him talk you out of seeing your own daughter." She gestured angrily towards Henry.

Henry cringed at her harsh words. He couldn't lose control over his temper, he'd say something stupid or revealing. He'd already done that once before, and it had caused his Aunt Piper to yell at him. He couldn't repeat that.

"She's right," Piper agreed with a little jerking nod of her head. "When Prue, Phoebe, and I went to the past, all of us just wanted to see our mother and Grams again. How do you know Melinda feels any different?"

"Because she told me she felt different," Henry snapped. "She said she doesn't want to see anyone right now."

"Except you?" Paige questioned sarcastically. "What are you, her boyfriend?"

Henry struggled to hide his revolted expression at her words. Fortunately, the look of disgust that washed over his face wasn't noticed as Piper and Phoebe were both looking at Paige with amusedly questioning stares.

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time in this family that someone fell for their white-lighter," Paige said pointedly, giving Piper a meaningful glance.

"Yeah, and look how well that turned out," Piper muttered before she could stop herself.

"I'm not her boyfriend," Henry said, drawing the sisters' attention back to himself. "And I don't think Max would appreciate anyone thinking that I am." He turned to Paige and answered her question as honestly as he could. "I'm just a friend of hers. We were really close growing up."

"Growing up?" Piper echoed. "Wait, how long ago did you die?" He was young, only a teenager, but she had assumed that he had died a long time ago. Was he really just a newbie white-lighter assigned to watch over their family? Why would the Elders give them someone without experience? And why would they give them someone who had been a family friend? Didn't that go against the whole idea of preventing the ghost of a loved one from crossing over to the real world until everyone was ready to see each other?

But Phoebe had latched on to a different part of Henry's comment, and she asked in confusion, "Are Max and Melinda dating?"

Henry allowed himself a small smile. "No, but only because Max is too much of a chicken to ask her out," he said. "He's liked her since… well, pretty much since forever. Everyone knows."

"You didn't answer my question," Piper interrupted. "How long have you been a white-lighter? How long has Melinda been your charge?"

Henry paused, thinking. He couldn't answer the first one because he wasn't a true white-lighter. As for the second question… well, he wasn't really Melinda's white-lighter anymore. In fact, nobody actually had specific white-lighters in this time period. They were one of the first groups to die, killed by demons twelve years ago during the attack on the Heavens. Only a few remained, not enough to help every witch who would need it.

Finally, he said, "Melinda isn't my charge. She's just a friend."

"If she's just a friend, then you don't really have any right to tell me that I can't see her," Phoebe said with finality. "Mother trumps friend."

"Shouldn't you be focused on trying to save Chris?" Henry demanded.

"Melinda is slightly more important, don't you think?" Phoebe replied, rolling her eyes at the comment. "Look, we will save Chris, but Melinda is my family and I…"

"No," Henry said tiredly, but still with steel in his voice, "she's not." Phoebe, Piper, and Paige all opened their mouths to argue, but he rushed on, determined to say what he needed to say. "Look, one day she will be your daughter. But she isn't that right now. You aren't her mother, you're really nothing more than a perfect stranger to her. You don't know her favorite food or her favorite color, you haven't spent hours trying to convince her to eat spinach and carrots, you don't know what books you read to her when she would have nightmares in the middle of the night. You aren't her mother yet."

Phoebe looked as though he had slapped her in the face. But, a small voice in her head pointed out unkindly, wasn't everything he said true? Did she really have the right to barge in her and act as though she had any claim to Melinda? She didn't know a thing about the girl.

"It doesn't matter," Paige said quietly. "She might not know any of those yet, but Melinda is still her daughter."

Henry sighed. "I obviously can't change your minds on this one, but Melinda doesn't want you here, so you aren't getting into the room. End of discussion." He turned to go, his hand resting on the doorknob, when he felt the familiar sensation of power washing over him. He turned and looked back at Piper, who had her hands outstretched, having just tried to freeze him.

"Why didn't he freeze?" Phoebe asked.

"Of, for God's sake," Piper cried, dropping her hands. "How many witch-lighters are there around here?"

Henry turned around again, not seeing a point in staying to listen to more of their questions. He wanted to get back to Melinda, to see how she was holding up after Cole's tirade. But again he was stopped, this time by Phoebe's hand on his arm.

"Wait!" Phoebe demanded, grabbing his wrist before he could leave. "You can't just walk…" Whatever else she was going to say was cut off by the sudden stiffness in her body, the surprised expression on her face, the trademark signs of a premonition.

"Wow… look at him," Phoebe said, holding the baby carefully and beaming at Paige. "Another boy in the family. Looks like his daddy, doesn't he?"

Paige, lying in the hospital bed in the maternity ward, nodded eagerly, a huge grin on her face. "Hello, my little Henry," she cooed, reaching out her arms and taking the baby back from her sister. "Welcome to the world."

"Oh…"

Henry took one look at Phoebe and knew that she had just seen the truth. Not able to stay and face his mother and aunts anymore, he spun around and shoved the door open, slamming it tightly behind him. Then he sunk to the floor, pulling his knees into his chest, and resting his head on his hands.

"Henry?" Melinda hurried from where she was sitting on his bed to her cousin's side. "What's wrong?" She closed her eyes, checking quickly to make sure the anti-orbing spell she put up was still in place. Satisfied that Paige would not be able to surprise them by orbing into the room, she turned her attention back to the shaking boy in front of her.

"They know about me," Henry said dully. "Aunt Phoebe had a premonition."

Melinda wrapped her arms around him. "I'm so sorry," she murmured apologetically. "I shouldn't have asked you to talk to them. It wasn't fair to you."

"You didn't know they would find out," Henry countered. He leaned his head against Melinda's shoulder and stared blankly at the wall opposite them. He kept seeing that looked of stunned surprise on Phoebe's face as she pulled her arm away from him. What would they think now that they knew who he was? Would they hate him for the lying he had done, for the way he had revealed the truth about Wyatt, for pushing them away from Melinda?

"I'm the older one," Melinda said. "I should be protecting you, not the other way around." She looked down, ashamed. "I haven't really done a very good job of that, have I?"

Henry frowned, knowing that she was thinking of Patience, Patty, and Helen. "That wasn't your fault," he said firmly. "You couldn't have saved any of them."

The twins, two years older than him and exactly like their mother in every way, had been killed by witch hunters shortly after the Charmed One's deaths. Just children, and they had been burned at the stake. No one had been able to save them, and Henry, having lost now his mother, father, and sisters, had almost fallen apart. Melinda, Patience, Chris, and Wyatt had held everything together, with the added support of their grandfather and Cole. But bit by bit those people were taken away from them as well, until now it was just him and Melinda.

"I don't want Chris to go back to the past," Henry confided guiltily. "I… we've lost everything. Even Wyatt. And then Chris went back and I…"

Melinda ran a hand through her hair. "He thinks he can save us, save Wyatt," she said. "If there is even the slightest chance…"

"I know. I just…"

Henry didn't finish the sentence, and Melinda gave him a searching stare.

"Do you think Cole was right?" she asked.

"About being family?" Henry questioned. He knew full well what she was actually asking, but he wasn't entirely sure he could have this conversation with her. Was Cole right that she had lost sight of everything worth fighting for in this world? He didn't even know the answer to that, but if she had lost sight of it, then so had he. Chris was the only one who seemed to think that there was a reason to continue this never-ending battle, and ever since their older cousin had gone to the past, they had all started loosing heart.

Melinda gave him a shrewd look and said, "You know perfectly well what I'm asking about."

"I don't know, Mel," Henry answered. "I don't… I don't know. Bianca might have been a threat no matter, but she definitely became one the moment you kicked her out."

"Her family worked for Wyatt," Melinda said softly. "Her family murdered the families of several of our members."

"I know," Henry agreed.

"We originally met her when she was working for Wyatt, trying to infiltrate our organization and kill us."

"I know."

Melinda let out a shaky breath. "She loves Chris."

"I know."

She rose slowly and walked back to the bed. Sitting on the cushion, she faced Henry and asked rhetorically, "Why does everything have to be so complicated?"

Henry shrugged. It was a question he often asked himself. It was a question he was never able to answer.

Wyatt's Apartment, 2025

Chris stood at the window of his bedroom, watching the sunlight glittering on the ocean. His mind was filled with troubled thoughts, and try as he might, he couldn't quite erase the fears that ate away at his stomach. His brush with the witch hunters had been enough to make his sufficiently terrified of the world outside these protective walls. How did witches live day to day in this place?

But even as he thought those thoughts, he couldn't help but wonder how the witch hunters had known he was there, how they had even recognized him. Was his face so well known to them that they were prepared to kill him on sight? He and Bianca had certainly not been displaying any kind of power, but the mortals who attacked had fired without any warning, and it was only Bianca's quick movements that had saved them both.

He leaned his head against the cool glance. Bianca had told him that much of his family was murdered when he was young, only a child. Wyatt had told him that his mother and aunts were killed when he was fourteen. He knew his father had died in the Heavens when he was ten. So how did all these seemingly conflicting pieces of information reconcile with each other?

He wanted to slam his head against the wall. Nothing made sense, and every time he thought of the comforting presence exuded by his brother after the witch hunter's attack, he couldn't help but think of the cold, calculating look in the Twice Blessed's eyes when he had killed Shelia and Michael.

"I want to know," he whispered, raising his eyes towards the ceiling. "I don't care if it is painful and difficult and impossible. I don't care how much in hurts. I need to know who I am. I need to know what is going on. I can't just sit here and do nothing while everyone else plans my life. I need to know."

The answer was silence, a blanket of quiet so still and so complete that Chris could hear his own breath rasping in his longs. He pushed himself away from the wall and began to pace the room. He needed a way out of this. He needed to finally have the answers. He knew that there were so many things he was supposed to do, and he just needed to remember what they were.

He looked up again. "Look, I don't know if there's even anyone up there listening to me. I don't know if I believe in God or angels or any of that. I don't understand what an Elder is, I don't know what their powers are, and I don't know if there are any still alive. But… if you are listening to me… there is something I was meant to do. I don't know what it is, but every fiber in my being is telling me that I was meant to be somewhere else. I don't know if I've ever prayed before, but I'm doing it now. Please… if anyone is listening… help me."

In a split second, the world turned sideways. Then upside-down. Then around and around and around. He was falling downwards, he was tumbling sideways, he was being pulled apart at the seams and put back together.

And then the memories came, rushing like a torrential flood, forcing him to his knees as he gripped his head in pain.

"Where is Daddy?" a five-year-old Chris asked as he clutched his teddy bear tightly with one hand and glanced around the gathered family. It was Christmas morning, and Wyatt had already happily launched himself into the presents. His Aunt Phoebe was sitting with Melinda on her lap, the young toddler playing eagerly with the large grays stuffed rabbit her father had bought her. Uncle Coop stood in the corner, taking pictures of his wife and daughter, and talking animatedly to Uncle Henry. Uncle Henry was holding one of the newborn twins, and Aunt Paige, seated next to Aunt Phoebe on the sofa, held the other twin. His mother was crouched next to Wyatt on the floor, helping pick out the presents that belonged to the rambunctious blonde child.

"He'll be here, peanut," Piper said, reaching over and ruffling his hair. "He's just caught up at work."

Chris made a face. "He always doin' adult stuff," he pouted. It was true, his father was around a lot less than his mother. He was always running off to take care of some emergency, some charge in trouble or some new threat that was concerning the Elders.

"He's here now," a voice said, and the bright white orbs filled the room, coalescing into Leo.

Chris launched himself at his father, crying, "Daddy!" and even Wyatt tore himself away from his toys long enough to echo the sentiment.

But Piper met Leo's eyes and said in a low undertone, "You're late, Leo."

"One of my charges got attacked by a demon and needed to be healed," Leo replied softly. Then, ignoring Piper's angry look, he picked up Chris and swung him around in the air. "How's my little buddy?"

break

"You're half-demon," Henry said, eyeing Cole curiously. He was holding a six-year-old Chris by the hand, standing protectively in front of the child.

"So they tell me," Cole replied.

"You made my Aunt Phoebe cry," Chris said in a high-pitched squeak. "You made Uncle Coop angry."

"Yeah," Cole agreed slowly, regretfully. "I did."

"That wasn't very nice, mister," Chris said bluntly.

break

"I can't believe Leo would miss this," Piper hissed angrily, leaning over the cookies she was carefully pulling on the cookie sheet. "It's Wyatt's first baseball game of the season. They are finally in the A division and Leo can't even be here!"

"Sweetie, calm down," Paige replied gently. "He's not here yet, but that doesn't mean he isn't coming."

"We have to leave for the show in fifteen minutes!" Piper pointed out angrily. She narrowed her eyes at Paige just as the younger Charmed One was about to take a cookie. "Those are for Wyatt's fellow teammates," she admonished.

Paige huffed, but dropped the cookie back onto the plate.

"You'd better be dead or dying, mister," Piper threatened to the ceiling. "If you're not here in ten minutes, I'm going to kill you, understand?" She had no idea how much those words would haunt her over the next few years.

Chris, hiding in the doorway, heard the argument. With a frown, the ten-year-old decided that he'd better find his Daddy, because it just wasn't fair for him to have to miss Wyatt's game. With that thought in mind, he concentrated on his father, and orbed.

The white marble of Up There was filled with scorch marks and running red with blood. Elders slumped over everywhere, their faces fixed in expressions of horror and despair. Chris stood in the center of it all and called out frantically, "Daddy! Daddy!"

There was no answer.

break

Wyatt was staring, stone faced and cold, at the grave marker in front of them. Piper stood beside him, tears streaming down her cheeks, silent sobs wracking her body. Paige and Phoebe were attempting to offer as much support as possible, but she was oblivious to their presences, thinking only of the last words she had ever yelled at her husband, thinking of her threat that he had better be down in ten minutes or she would kill him. The words echoed, harsh and jarring, in the silence of her mind.

Chris stood separate from his mother and brother. He, too, was crying, but his tears were louder. His grandfather tried to comfort him, and in the background, his Uncles Henry and Coop watched with uneasy expressions.

A woman walked forward. She was dressed in a long robe, a strange garment trimmed with gold and thin silver threads. She stopped directly behind Piper. The eldest Charmed One did not turn around, did not acknowledge the newcomer in any way. She was too caught up in her own grief to face the grief of her husband's colleagues.

"The attack…" the Elder murmured, "we had no warning. Very few of us survived. I… I wish I could have saved him, Piper."

Piper didn't say anything, and the Elder turned and walked away, knowing she was not welcome here.

The Wyatt stepped forward and dropped a flower onto his father's gravestone. "I'm sorry, Dad," the twelve-year-old blonde said. "I won't let this happen to anyone else. I'll take care of them for you."

break

"I don't understand," eleven-year-old Chris said, sitting on his bed, staring at his mother. "I don't… I don't understand."

Piper, who was barely holding herself together, reached out and tried to pull Chris into a hug. He backed away, shaking his head, staring at her uncomprehendingly. Piper inhaled sharply, then let out the breath and said, "The attack was… sudden. Your Aunt Paige, she…" She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence. She was crying again, tears pooling in her eyes.

Chris let her hug him this time, resting his head on her shoulder.

break

"This is ridiculous," Wyatt said, watching as his mother and Aunt Phoebe tried to hang the Christmas ornaments of the tree. "Why don't you just let me do it for you?"

"We'll let you help if you do it without your powers," Piper replied, giving Wyatt a long look. Then she turned her attention away from him and glanced at the window. Both Greg and her father were supposed to come by later in the afternoon to help with the decorations, and she was eagerly awaiting their arrivals.

Wyatt shook his head and turned to the twelve-year-old Chris. "They've gone insane."

"Mom's always been insane," Chris quipped back, and earned himself a playful glare from his mother and aunt.

Then Henry walked into the room, his arms laden with presents, Helen and Patty trailing behind him. He looked tired and worn, and his eyes were filled with unfathomable sadness. It was the first Christmas since Paige's death, and her absence left them all feeling as though a gaping void existed in the family.

"Where's little Henry?" Phoebe asked, referring to Paige's son.

"Coop is showing him how to make paper airplanes," Henry answered, forcing a smile that did not quite reach his eyes. "He's having a good time."

"Mommy?" Melinda called from the stairs. "Where's Grandpa?"

"He'll be here soon," Phoebe called back. "Why don't you and Patience come help us decorate? We can have a family-decorating time."

"It's not all our family," Wyatt muttered sourly under his breath. "There's some still missing."

break

Piper placed the plate of eggs in front of Greg and gave him a brief smile. Across from him, thirteen-year-old Chris watched the exchange warily. He knew that his mother really loved this firefighter, and he wanted to be happier for him, but his father was supposed to be the one sitting there, eating eggs in the morning.

"Thanks, Piper," Greg said. "They look delicious, as always."

Chris scowled. "Did you make eggs for Dad when he was still alive?"

"Chris!" Piper scolded, staring at him in surprise. Then her expression softened as it always did when she thought of Leo, and she said, "Yes, I did."

"So is Greg going to be my new Daddy?" Chris asked bitterly, pushing his bowl of cereal away and standing up. "Should I start telling people that I'm half-witch, half-fireman?" Without waiting for a response, he stormed from the room.

He had made it through the sunroom when he felt a pair of hands grab his shoulders and spin him around. He expected to find himself staring at his mother, but instead it was Wyatt standing there. He wondered how much of the conversation Wyatt had overheard.

"Mom loves him," Wyatt snapped. "And he's showed up to more of my baseball games and your school plays than Dad ever did."

"Dad's dead, Wy," Chris replied pointedly. "He can't come to anything."

"Even when he wasn't dead, he was always trying to save the world instead of us…" Wyatt crossed his arms over his chest. "Look, Mom loves Dad more than she will ever love anyone else. I know that because I am an emapth, I could feel it. So maybe she and Greg aren't soul mates or whatever, but he makes her happy. Do you really want to take that away from her?"

"No…"

break

When he came to, the first thing he smelled was the blood. Then he remembered the demon attack, the pain, the sudden surprise, the screams, the fear, his mother's panic, heat and cold…

Then he rolled over and found himself staring into his mother's glazed over eyes, her lifeless body sprawled out on the kitchen floor next to him.

break

"Wyatt, what are you doing?" fourteen-year-old Chris demanded, grabbing his brother and pulling him away from the demon. He waved his hand, telekinetically sending a vanquishing potion from the cabinet by the wall at the demon, causing him to scream and go up in flames. "You were torturing him!"

Wyatt yanked his arm out of Chris' grip. "You aren't my keeper, Chris," Wyatt hissed angrily. "I can do whatever the hell I want!" And he orbed away in a flurry of black and blue.

break

"I don't understand how magic was exposed," Henry said, leaning over the Book. "Where were the Cleaners?"

"Where were the Cleaners when Prue died?" Phoebe replied sarcastically. She added a teaspoon of black poppy to the potion and watched as it sizzled and boiled.

"Should we really have all of this stuff here?" fifteen-year-old Chris asked worriedly, holding a jar of fairy wings in his hand. "If the witch hunters come…"

"The hunters are the least of your problems," a cold voice snarled, and Chris spun around to see several demons shimmering into the room. One of the demons threw a potion at him, and he collapsed to the floor, unconscious.

By the time he awoke, it would be too late to save his aunt and uncle.

break

"How did he die?" Wyatt asked worriedly, glancing out of the corner of his eye at Melinda and Cole. His younger cousin was sitting on the sofa, listening to Cole read a story to her. Helen was sitting at Cole's feet, Patience next to her, and Patty was lying on the floor, drawing with crayons. Little Henry crouched next to Penny, watching her cautiously.

"I don't know," sixteen-year-old Chris answered softly, trying his best to keep his voice low. "Daryl didn't tell me anything about the details."

Cole paused in his reading long enough to give Wyatt and Chris a searching stare. They met his gaze, their expressions filled with sorrow, and, in Wyatt's case, anger. The half-demon turned his attention back to the book he was reading.

"You told Cole?" Wyatt murmured.

Chris nodded unhappily. "Yeah, he was here when Daryl called." He ran a hand through his hair, then said sheepishly, "I miss him."

"Daryl?" Wyatt asked, confused.

Chris rolled his eyes. "Greg," he replied. "I miss Greg." He turned away from his few remaining family members and stared through the doorway into the kitchen. "I didn't even like him when he was alive, and I hated coming downstairs in the morning and seeing him there with Mom… but I miss him."

Wyatt didn't answer the comment. Finally, he said, "Daryl didn't tell you anything at all?"

"Just that it was a demon attack, and it had been quick," Chris answered. "Greg probably didn't feel any pain." He stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Daryl's probably worried that if he gives us too much information, we'll go after the demon ourselves."

The look on Wyatt's face clearly indicated that he would go after the demon regardless of what Daryl did or did not tell them.

"I miss all of them," Chris said with a shrug, still staring at the kitchen. All of the ones who had died, leaving him behind to try to live in this world. His grandfather's death, only a few months earlier, had been the only one caused by anything mortal. The years of smoking had finally caught up with the old man, and he was torn away from his family as well.

Wyatt orbed away.

Chris stared at the spot his brother had stood and muttered, "And you, Wy. I miss you too."

break

"Die, witches! Burn, burn!"

"Patty, Helen, no! No, please, don't…"

"Burn!"

"NO!"

"BURN!"

break

Wyatt rose fearlessly from where he was sitting on the stone floor and gave the demon before him an impetuous look. He had been attacked and brought to this cave, but so far the demons that had tried to kill him had all failed. Instead of escaping, which he knew he would have easily been able to do, he had opted to wait. He had a plan to put into action, and nothing was going to stand in his way.

Except possibly the beaten and exhausted boy sprawled at his feet.

Wyatt gave Chris a quick look, long enough to make sure his brother was still breathing. He'd healed his brother after the initial demon attack, but Chris had pushed his hands away, claiming he did not want Wyatt's help.

Wyatt let out an angry sigh. Chris had been pulling away from him since Helen and Patty's death just a few months prior. He had disapproved of Wyatt's actions, claiming that attacking the witch hunters only gave mortals more of a reason to fear them. But it was these very same witch hunters that had burned their cousins at the stake, and Wyatt would be damned if he let anything happen to his few remaining family members.

How many times had he made a promise that he would look after them all? How many times had he failed?

But not now, not again. Today was the beginning of something new. Today, Wyatt would prove that no one, demon, mortal, or witch, would ever be strong enough to stand against him.

He looked back at the demon. "Do you really think you can hurt me?" he mocked cruelly.

"Wy… let's just go…" Chris begged, coughing, pushing himself to his knees. He had refused to leave without his brother, but Wyatt hadn't wanted to go.

"What makes you think you can?" the demon smirked.

Wyatt waved his hand casually, and the demon suddenly screamed as flames engulfed his body. He was not vanquished however, and after a moment, Wyatt allowed the flames to fizzle out and die. He stared at the other demons who were coming forward. "I am Wyatt Halliwell. I am the Twice Blessed. I am the reincarnation of King Arthur. You cannot stop me!"

"Wy, please…" Chris was on his feet now.

"You will bow to me," Wyatt continued. "I will be your leader. You will follow my orders…" He glanced at the first demon again and blinked. The demon howled as he went up in flames, only this time he was truly vanquished, and became nothing more than swirling ash in the air. "… or you will join your comrade."

"Wyatt, what are you doing?" Chris begged, shaking his head. This wasn't right…

But they had reached a turning point, and there was no going back from here.

break

Twenty-two-year-old Chris watched as his fiancée drew a triqueta on the wall. A lot had changed in the six years since that day in the cave when Wyatt had crossed the line and declared himself the Source. Patience was gone, he had set up a Resistance against his own brother, Melinda had slowly changed into a cold and hard person he barely recognized anymore, Shelia and Michael had been killed, Greg had been made into a white-lighter, all witches had been driven underground by the witch hunters, and Bianca had walked into his life.

Bianca turned towards him, her face drawn. "It's time."

Chris nodded slowly. He had left Melinda in charge of the Resistance, and he wasn't sure that was a wise decision. Bianca had been opposed to the idea, but he hoped with Greg, Cole, and Daryl all there to guide her, Melinda would be able to make the right choices.

"I don't want to go," he said at last. "I don't want to leave you."

Bianca gave him the ghost of a smile and slid the ring off her finger. "Here," she whispered, extending her hand to him. "This will remind you of why we're doing this, what's waiting for you here." They had been through so much together, and now they both had to endure the next several months, and whatever pain they would bring, without the other one there to offer support.

He wrapped his arms around her, inhaling the smell of her hair and sweater.

"Just make sure you take care of the guards, okay?" Chris said, pulling back so he could look her in the eye. "Then get out of here. Because if he finds you, if he knows you betrayed him, he'll kill you." Bianca had only been allowed to live because Wyatt had not realized the true extent of her betrayal. Once he found out…

"Don't worry," Bianca replied, "I can take care of myself."

They both knew that she could more than take care of herself against a demon, and they both knew she wouldn't stand a chance against Wyatt. Neither commented on that truth.

They walked over to hologram of the Book of Shadows. Chris pulled out the wrinkled piece of paper and unfolded it, smoothing out the creases.

"I call upon the ancient power to help us in this darkest hour. Let the Book return to this place, claim refuse in its rightful space." There was the sound of wind rattling against the windows, a rush of something falling, and then the Book appeared before them, lying on the podium. "It worked," Chris breathed.

"The spell," Bianca said urgently, already flipping through the pages. "Find the spell."

They found the spell, and Chris placed his hand firmly on the page and began to intone the words, knowing that this was the final point of no return. From here on out, he was on his own. "Hear these words, hear the rhyme, heed the hope within my mind. Send me back to where I'll find what I wish in place and time."

The chalk triqueta on the wall glowed an eerie blue and suddenly a portal appeared, filling the room with its flickering light. Chris took a step forward, then glanced back at Bianca, a look of anguish on his face. He did not want to leave her.

And the a demon shimmered into the room right behind the Phoenix, and Chris cried out in terror, "Bianca!"

The assassin witch spun around to face the demon, and they both fell to the floor. She was up on her feet again, fighting as hard as she could.

Glancing over her shoulder, Bianca cried, "Go! Go!"

And Chris turned and walked away, stepping through the portal and leaving behind everything that mattered to him most in the world.

When he opened his eyes, Bianca was standing over him, a look of concern on her pretty features. He studied her face, noticing for the first time all the tiny changes, the little things that had not been there before. Her hair had highlights in it now, and her eyes were colder than he remembered. She seemed to be made of hard edges and sharp corners, and everything about her reminded him that she was an assassin.

This was not the woman he had left before, not the woman who had stood next to him while he called for the Book of Shadows, not the woman who had fought off the demon while he traveled back in time.

Bianca stared at him, her eyes narrowed in confusion. "Are you okay? You fell to the ground. I was outside, I heard the sound and when I came in you were shaking."

"You've changed," Chris said bluntly. It was the first thought that came to mind.

"What?"

"You lied to me," Chris continued, and suddenly his anger was bursting from him. "You lied over and over. Did you think I wouldn't ever figure it out? That I wouldn't notice? Everything you said to me… you told me my family was killed when I was just a child. Wyatt lied as well, and you… How could you? I loved you, Bianca! I…"

Bianca had stepped away from him during his rant, her eyes now widening as she realized what had happened.

He remembered everything.

"How could you bring me back here? How could you take me away from everything? I was going to save us, save this future and you…"

"Wait, Chris, I can explain!" Bianca interrupted him, her voice shaking with emotion.

"Can you really?" Chris demanded, his own voice shaking with rage. "You fed me lies about how I was susceptible to evil. You told me I needed to come back so that Wyatt could protect me."

"He was going to kill you," Bianca protested. "If I didn't come for you, he would just an assassin after you…"

"So?" Chris hissed. "There's obviously nothing left more me here anyway." He gave her a disgusted look and walked to the door.

"Chris, please," Bianca began, grabbing his arm, "just listen…"

"No need to explain," Chris said, flinging his hand out and telekinetically throwing her against the wall. "Melinda was right about you all along. I should never have trusted that you loved me too." And he strode from the room, slamming the door behind him.

Resistance Stronghold, 2025

"What have I done?" It was the refrain Paige settled on as she paced back and forth across the empty room. She had already tried pounding on the door of Melinda's room several times, but no one had emerged. After that, everything seemed to be a blur until she ended up back in the room they were supposed to be using as a bedroom, pacing liked a caged tiger across the floor.

Phoebe sat on the bed, playing over and over in her mind all the angry things she had said to Henry. Next to her, Piper stood, one hand resting comfortingly on her shoulder, but eyes trained on Paige.

"You didn't know, Paige. None of us did," Piper reasoned. She'd taken out her anger on him when he'd accidentally revealed the truth of Wyatt's morality. She'd been harsh to him when he prevented them all from speaking to Melinda. Was there anything she hadn't done wrong?

"I should have known," Paige argued. "I should have been able to feel it. He's my son!"

"I didn't know Melinda was my daughter," Phoebe whispered. She bit her lip and added, "How could my husband have just left…?" She still couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that her husband would have bailed on his own children when they needed him most. And that Cole would have been the one to play the father figure instead.

"Everything Cole said… about Melinda… about the divisions in the group… do you think that was all true?" Paige asked, stopping her pacing long enough to give both Piper and Phoebe long probing looks.

"I don't know," Piper admitted. "Do you think we should make the deal with Lavinia?"

"Well, Melinda is clearly against it," Phoebe said dryly, remembering the heated argument from the council meeting. "And so was pretty much everyone else there."

"Any ideas why Chris is so important?" Piper questioned, changing the subject slightly.

"Well, he was obviously a good friend of Melinda and Henry's," Phoebe replied thoughtfully. "And Wyatt's. Maybe they knew each other growing up?"

'Yes, but why would some random witch-lighter be running the Resistance?" Piper pressed. "Why not one of us? Why not a Halliwell?"

"Henry's too young," Paige said automatically. "He can't be more than sixteen or seventeen." She shook her head, in awe over the entire situation. But her expression fell again, and she said hoarsely, "And I was mean to him. He has the entire weight of the world on his shoulders, and I…"

"He has people to help him," Piper said comfortingly. "So does Melinda. They aren't alone." But Wyatt was, she realized with a start. Whatever it was that had turned him had also cut him off from his family. He had no one to guide him, to stand beside him. No one he could truly trust except the demons who worked for him.

"How could I have not seen it?" Paige was still saying. Her words brought a flush of shame to Piper's face, the eldest Charmed One had said some unpleasant things to her nephew. But how could they have known?

"It doesn't matter," a voice said, and the sisters turned to see the Cole standing in the doorway. He was looking at Paige with a mixture of annoyance and compassion. "Whatever you've said to Henry doesn't matter. He'll forgive you."

"You don't know that!" Paige retorted, but she was so desperate to have him convince her of his views that there was no heat in her words. She didn't even remember to be angry with him for all the pain he had caused them in the past.

"Right now, I know Henry a lot better than any of you do," Cole said softly. "He'll forgive you. He loves you." His eyes moved to Phoebe, and the words caught in his throat as he said, "And Melinda loves you."

"You and Melinda don't really seem to be getting along," Piper said sardonically. "You expect us to believe that you know her so well when the two of you can't even be in the same room without yelling at each other?"

"I knew Melinda when she was growing up," Cole said. He leaned his tall form against the wall, eyes still on Phoebe, and said, "That sweet, innocent child that I first met is still in there somewhere. She still loves you."

"How are you in our lives again?" Paige asked, flopping onto the bed next to her sister. "How many times are we going to have to vanquish you?"

Cole managed a smirk. "I always come back, Paige. No matter what."

"Why?" Phoebe huffed, giving her ex-husband a glare.

Cole actually stopped to consider the question. After a moment, he said, "I guess the world just wasn't done with me yet." He held her gaze for a beat, the barest hint of a smile gracing his lips. Once again, the rush of sadness passed through him as he thought of her with another man, another person beside her on the alter, vowing to love her for all eternity. And, as usual, the sadness turned to fury as he remembered the way Melinda's father had just left his daughters and the family, unable to deal with his grief.

"If you think that there is any chance I'm going to take you back when all you did was cause me pain…" Phoebe began, but Cole just shook his head.

"I would have given the wizard my powers if it meant being able to live a life with you. You're the one who stopped that, Phoebe. You're the one who left the Source in my body." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. This was not the time for blame. But Phoebe was already speaking before he had the chance to take back what had already been said.

"Don't you dare blame this on me," Phoebe snarled, and Piper and Paige backed her up with angry glares.

Cole let out a slow breath. "Look, I didn't come here to argue with you," he said finally. "At least, not about that. But we need to talk about the deal with Lavinia."

"Melinda is against it," Phoebe said automatically. "And Henry didn't looked too thrilled by the idea either."

Cole shrugged, unconcerned by the disagreements of the two younger Halliwells. "Perhaps," he consented, "but when you go back to the past, they won't be there. So it really is your decision, not theirs."

"And why would we agree to work with a demon?" Phoebe demanded, still seething from Cole's earlier attempt to blame her for the problems in their relationship. "That never ends well."

Cole flinched, but continued determinedly, "Because it might be our only way of saving Chris. Whether anyone else here wants to admit it or not, we need Bianca's help, and she won't give it unless we can promise to keep Chris safe."

"We can find another way," Piper argued.

At the same time, Paige asked, "How do we even know that Bianca is trustworthy?"

Cole addressed piper first. "You might think you can find another way, but it would still be much riskier. I'm not taking chances with Chris' life, not if I don't have to." He then turned to Paige, his expression unreadable. After a moment's pause, he said, "Bianca loves Chris."

"You can still hurt the people you love," Phoebe pointed out, her words filled with a double meaning.

"True," Cole said with a bittersweet smile, "but you still try to save them. Bianca will help us."

Paige rolled her eyes and asked, "And how do we know that you are trustworthy? All you ever do is cause us pain, and I'm tired of seeing my sister hurt."

Piper spoke up in agreement, "How do we know that you don't have some other agenda? Why did you even come back into our lives in the first place?"

"Let me guess, some twisted plan to get Phoebe away from her family?" Paige snorted in derision. "Do you think that, now that we know you are supposedly good, when we go back to the past Phoebe will give you a second chance?"

"I would never ask her to do that," Cole said, and he knew that every word he was speaking was the truth. "I'm done trying to get Phoebe to love me."

"What made you finally come to your senses?" Paige taunted.

Cole gave her a cold look and wondered to himself how the conversation had strayed so far from topic. "Because I've met Melinda. And contrary to what you all believe, I do actually care about her. I would never do anything to prevent her from being born… even if that means watching Phoebe marry a weak, self-centered, pathetic man." If there was any doubt in the sisters' mind about his opinion of Melinda's father, it was gone now.

Of course, Phoebe had to admit that she felt the same way. How could she have married someone who would just abandon her children when they needed him the most?

"Better than a half-demon," Piper muttered under her breath.

Cole gave her a strange look, then said softly, "It's funny how you all only think of the half-demon part. You forget that I'm also half-human."

"The human part doesn't really seem to matter since you are still evil," Paige mocked.

Cole sighed and shook his head. Talking to the sisters was like talking to a wall, they didn't listen to a word he said. But he'd forgotten just how annoying the Charmed Ones from that particular time were. Sooner or later, they would grow up and start realizing that there was a bigger picture than there own self-centered lives. He remembered Phoebe, the Phoebe that he had known in this time, the brave warrior, the one who had died, fighting to the last. He missedthat Phoebe.

"Family is everything to the three of you," Cole said slowly, his words painful and filled with regret. "There is nothing you won't do, over and over, just to save the people you love. I had never seen you back down from a fight, I had never seen you give up on someone. I had never seen you decide that someone was beyond your help." His eyes locked with Phoebe. "When did you decide that you couldn't save me?"

There was a tense silence, and then all three sisters opened their mouths to speak. Cole, however, did not let them get a word in edgewise, but instead turned the conversation back to the problem at hand.

"It is imperative that we rescue Chris, and soon. I need to know if you three will take the deal with Lavinia."

"I don't like it," Phoebe snapped.

"Even if not doing it means risking Chris' life?" Cole asked. He had known all along that the sisters would not welcome his ideas, but he would make sure they understood the importance of this. And if that meant he had to spill Chris' secret… Well, he would deal with Chris' wrath later, just as long as the witch-lighter was alive enough to be angry.

"Look, I get that Chris is important to all of you," Piper interrupted before Phoebe could reply, "but all he's done is screw up our lives."

Cole raised an eyebrow. "He's trying to save your son," he said bitterly. "Why are you working so hard against him?"

"He split up Leo and I!" Piper hissed.

Cole started at her blankly; he had not heard that particular bit of news. His jaw dropped, and for a moment he wondered if Chris was actually trying to erase his own existence. But no, that didn't make sense. There was obviously more to this story that met the eye, and he knew the only person who could give him the full details was Chris… assuming he got his memory back.

"I doubt that was his intention," Cole said at last. "He would never do anything to hurt you. At least not on purpose."

"Why not?" Piper questioned, surprised by the comment.

Cole hesitated, then said, "All of Wyatt's friends adored you. You were the coolest mother of the group." He offered a smile which Piper did not return. Finally, he said, "Do you want to save your son or not?"

"Of course I do," Piper retorted, flushed with embarrassment that he would even have to ask that. She would never abandon her child.

"Then you need to make this deal with Lavinia," Cole said through clenched teeth. "And then three of you need to stop bothering your future children or wandering around this place trying to find answers to all your questions. You need to focus your energy on finding a way back home because you are not going to have access to the Nexus."

"We will find a way home," Paige glowered, "but why do we need to focus so much on Chris?"

"Because he's important!" Cole nearly bellowed. Honestly, how imperceptive were these witches? Chris was part witch, part white-lighter, stubborn, determined, neurotic, and powerful. How could they not see bits of themselves in him?

"Why?" Piper asked, throwing up her hands in frustration. The lamp on the table near the door exploded and everyone flinched in surprise. Piper didn't even bat an eye. She just stared at Cole, waiting for his answer.

There was a dead silence. Then the half-demon spoke.

"Because, Piper," Cole said slowly, praying that he was doing the right thing, "Chris is your son. Wyatt's younger brother."