Chapter 13- Warnings and Farewells.

----

Karma's a bitch.

I lock two people in a room so that they can't get out when their trying to steal something and look what happens to me.

Chris knew that soon the door behind him would be opened. It had to be, for people to come in and arrest him, which he assumed they were going to do. He didn't think they would leave him here very long, unattended. Especially with all the sarcasm he had been throwing at them. Rolling his eyes, he turned his attention back to the case in front of him. Once he had the sword, he'd trash a few other rooms, and leave. Well, that was the plan but, then again, they rarely went without a hitch. Walking forwards quickly, he'd already triggered the alarms so there wasn't much point to being careful, and looked in the case. It was the sword alright. However, there was a problem.

A problem in the form of god knows how many red lasers criss-crossing over said sword.

Damn, it really wasn't his day.

"Well, I'm not giving up now." Chris whispered. He really didn't like the look of those lasers, if whatever he had done before had set of alarms, then he was betting that these were the last resort. The very dangerous last resort. Ok, don't touch the lasers, check.

He examined the case that the sword was in and, upon seeing a small keyboard thing with a screen positioned on the side, he smiled. It was one of those things that you had to type the right code into and if you got it wrong then something really bad would happen. Chris sighed, he didn't think things could possibly get any worse so, hesitantly, he pressed a finger to one of the buttons, the number 5. Then he took his finger away and watched as the words incorrect sequence appeared on the screen, then a mechanical voice started speaking.

"That is the incorrect sequence, please try again. Remember you have only three tries before you are locked out."

The voice managed to sound condescending, bored and cold all at the same time. Chris wondered who had programmed it, as they would be one out of only (now) three people he knew that could talk like that. One was his high school biology teacher, the other was Wyatt.

Rolling his eyes, he froze as he saw something change in the lasers.

"No way."

There were more of them and, as he watched, a few more suddenly activated, blocking the sword more from his view. He glared, he didn't have time for this. He needed to use magic. Screw exposure, he'd deal with the magical community later, anyway there was a chance that they may not believe magic to be involved.

"Oh no, you did not just do that." Chris hissed. Magic it is. He held his hand over the lasers and said clearly and commandingly, words laced with power.

"Sword."

Nothing happened.

"Sword!"

Still nothing. No familiar rush of power. No…nothing.

It was as if something was blocking it from him. He concentrated, trying to feel his magic. Nothing.

It was beyond his reach and, angry, he called on his telekinesis. His forte.

Glaring down at the lasers, he imagined their systems, driving his power to unlock them, break them. He directed it to deactivate the systems, to crush the metal, imagining the cold, thin sliver material splintering and failing, cracking. Making those irritating blood red lasers disappear, so that Chris could reach down and pick up the sword, so that he could leave.

Nothing. Silence except for the soft buzzing of the lasers he could not destroy and the coldness of the sword he could not call.

"What?" Chris whispered, panicked.

Maybe it was just the sword, just the lasers. Yeah that was it. It must be it.

Spinning on his heel, he directed his attention the cameras in the room, he had disabled them already but he needed confirmation. Concentrating, he tried to control them with his mind, make them break off the wall and fall to the floor, the wires and metal attaching them broken. When that failed he became desperate, turning back to the lasers, he again tried to break the mechanisms making them work but, as before, nothing happened.

Stunned, Chris stared blankly down at the sword, his mind elsewhere.

It couldn't be possible.

His powers were gone.

----

Water…

The liquid in her hand was not the cure. Was not the thing that she was so desperately after. The demon had promised to give her the cure. Damn, he had signed that contract! Now she realised that all of this had been to trick her, to use her and Leo, so the demon could get what he wanted. All to lull her into a false sense of security, to let her think she was the one in control, that the deal was clean, that she would be the only one to gain anything worthwhile from it. It had all been a trick…

And she had fallen for it. Hook line and sinker.

Leo had tried to warn her but, oh no, she wouldn't listen. Instead she had insisted, always insisting, to go ahead with it, not seeing it for what it really was…something false. something to be handled with care. He'd tricked her, and Chris could die because of the time they'd wasted.

She raised her hands, brown eyes blazing with fury at the betrayal. " Give me one reason why I shouldn't blow your arm of right now?"

"You can't kill me." Came the smug, confident reply.

"No, but I can hurt you. As long as I don't kill you, I can do anything I want." Piper countered.

"Really?" the demon replied dispassionately.

"Yes. Really." Piper whispered coldly.

"Oh but your a Charmed One, all righteous and good. You wouldn't stoop so low as to torture. Would you?" the demon mocked.

"I wonder what a demon like you would want with a power stealing athame and a contract of peace with me and my sisters. I'm sure you have your reasons but, trading with a Charmed One? Why would you want to do something so dangerous? Why are you going through so much trouble?" Piper asked emotionlessly.

The demon shrugged, his eyes glittering menacingly, all he said was "I follow The Way of The Guild."

Piper blinked, the way of the guild? Why did demons always come up with such weird things? The way of the guild? It sounded like some creepy cult. What the hell did it mean? She was confused, but judging from the way she felt Leo tense behind her, whatever that meant couldn't be good ad so she promptly stopped making fun of it in her mind.

"Piper…stop. We need to get back to the manor." Leo said soothingly, speaking for the first time in a while, though she could sense a worried, shocked undertone to his voice.

"Yes, go on, do as you husband says run back to your sisters." the demon said snidely.

"Do you have a death wish?" Leo hissed in his direction before speaking to Piper in a softer tone. "Listen to me, we can't waste anymore time here. We need a new plan."

"Your right." Piper said lowering her hands, the confusion making itself prominent in her thoughts, though the anger did not fade from her brown eyes.

"Good, lets go." Leo turned, leading Piper out of the demons house, she walked to the exit of the kitchen like place before spinning round. She raised her hand, and in one quick blast, blew up the demons arm. He cursed, but managed not to scream as other demons did.

"You better hope I never find a way round the contract." Piper began dangerously, speaking in a harsh undertone Leo only barely managed to hear.

"For your sake."

----

No not gone. Just unreachable.

He could sense them, but they were far beyond his reach, something was hiding them. Something was taking them away.

He didn't need to be a genius to figure out what.

Damn, he couldn't do this without magic! Even the potions he had with him weren't designed to help him in this situation. What could he do? Someone was bound to be on their way to arrest him. He couldn't afford to leave the sword, he couldn't afford to go without it.

This was his only chance.

Wait…

He still had powers didn't he?

Well, technically he didn't have the powers but that was exactly the point. They weren't in his body, so therefore, they couldn't really be blocked by the illness he had. He had the athame. Taking it out, he looked at the almost innocent gleam to the silver metal and sighed.

"Don't play all innocent with me, I know that you're really a evil, power containing, demons athame." He whispered, then rolled his eyes as he realised that he was talking to a inanimate object.

He had the athame in his possession, so he should ,technically, be able to flame. There was just one problem…

How the hell did that help him?

Well, if flaming worked like orbing, then he suspected that he should, technically, be able to call things using the flaming power. Technically. He didn't know whether it would actually work when he put it into practice, but, if he used the extra power as a sort of 'boost' he may be able to access his orbing powers and the sword should be flamed into his hand. If it worked, then he could get out of here, if not then…he didn't want to think about it. Stay positive.

He stared down at the sword, memorising every feature that he needed to summon. The darkness of the room was oppressive, the crimson light harsh. He couldn't actually see much of the sword, but the slight glimpses of metal that he did see was enough, he hoped. Holding the athame in one hand, the other free, he tried to call the sword, tapping into the flaming power trapped within the athame he had. His fingers clenched around it and he knew that it was now or never. So he said, again, words laced with power.

"Sword."

In a burst of dark, red and orange fire, the sword disappeared from its case, before reappearing in Chris's free hand. The fire, enveloping the sword, making it seem so small and vulnerable. The darkness in the room was momentarily lightened, by the afterglow of the burst.

Chris smiled.

"Mission accomplished."

Then the metal covering the door behind him retracted and the only exit and entrance was opened. Ten men filed through, guns raised. Pointing at him. Turning around, he slipped his athame away quickly, placing the sword gently on the floor. It was dark, and he couldn't get a good look at it. Oh well.

"Freeze!" the men, obviously guards, said in unison. Wow, they must have a lot of practice.

"No. I don't feel like it." Chris hissed. He started to walk towards them, slowly, as if he had no care in the world. He'd faced demons, did they really think they could scare him?

"Freeze. Freeze, or we'll shoot." one of them demanded.

"No you won't. I'm the criminal here. I know your types. All talk." Chris contradicted, and if they did shoot it would be a non lethal shot. These guards weren't killers. Chris appreciated that. Not just because it meant that they wouldn't really hurt him, but because they wouldn't abuse their power, they wouldn't take a life. He'd said it as a insult, but he'd meant it as a compliment.

The man shot at the floor just in front of Chris, the bullet lodging in the floor, the sound deafening. "That was just a warning, next time it'll be your leg." he said, dangerously low and cold.

"I don't think so." Chris hadn't stopped moving.

"That's it. We warned you." the man said, taking aim. Chris examined the angle, estimating where the bullet was aimed. So he could dodge. "Last chance."

Chris just smiled.

The mans finger tightened on the trigger.

Chris moved, sprinting forwards, grabbing the mans wrist and lifting it up, the gun pointing at the ceiling. The gun fired, the bullet safely being shot up to the roof. The mans fist came to punch Chris in the face but he caught it, twisting it round in one smooth motion behind the mans back, his other hand still holding the hand with the gun. Then, the man he was fighting head butted him backwards in the face. Hard. Chris let go, stumbling backwards, the man spun round, aiming his gun, once again, at Chris. So not fair. In two steps, Chris had, once again walked forwards, closing the space between them. Before the guard had a chance to shoot him, he'd punched him right in the face. Grabbing the gun out of his hand, he pushed him into a group of two other guards on his left, knocking them over.

Turning to his right, he shot the guard there in the leg, before he was jumped from behind. He found one of his hands and pulled him over his shoulder, throwing the man to the floor. He shot him in the arm. Looking towards the door, he saw another guard running at him and startled, he shot, but missed. Dodging the first blow, he punched the man right in the gut, pushing him backwards into the unfortunate guard behind him. He shot them both in the arm as they went down.

Seeing five guards left, as some had got up of the floor, he sighed, and tried to shoot at least one of them. Non lethal shots of course. However, there were no bullets left.

"Shit."

Turning back to one of the other guards that he'd shot, he picked up their guns, dropping the one he had to the floor. Left discarded on the floor, he found two. Turning back to the other guards again, he managed to get three shots of before the guns were knocked out of his hands. He felt his arms being pulled behind his back and struggled. As another guard came up in front of him, he kicked him. Right were it hurts. He felt the guard behind him wince in sympathy as his friend went down. Taking the advantage of the distraction, he drove his elbow backwards into the mans stomach. He heard the guy gasp as the breath was knocked out of him. The grasp on his arms loosened and he wrenched himself free, diving for one of the guns before spinning round and shooting the man in the lower leg.

Needless to say, the man went down.

Breathing somewhat heavily, Chris walked over to the sword, picking it up before running from the room. The gun still in his hand. He had four bullets left. He felt guilty for shooting them, but it's the only way he could ensure that they wouldn't keep chasing him. Anyway, they had their radios, they could call for help.

The lasers were gone from the corridor and he ran down it, stopping when he came to a open door of another room.

Time to do some trashing…

---

The bars separating the cells were 'wooden'. Personally? Chris thought that it had been based on Valhalla.

It was there to mock them. Wooden bars? Any demon would be able to easily crush them…they wouldn't even need to crush them. All they'd have to do was shimmer or flame out and they'd be on their way.

But these weren't just any wooded bars.

Orb proof, shimmer proof, flame proof…just about anything proof. And what really irritated him was that they were Chris proof. Nothing was Chris proof. However, these damn bars seemed to be. He couldn't rip them apart with his telekinesis and, believe me, he'd tried. He'd been one year, one whole year and still nothing had changed. It was insulting. He didn't know what Wyatt was trying to prove but he didn't like it. He would escape, he would get out. He missed Victor and Mel.

Today, someone new had been 'delivered', a woman. She was pretty and she was in the cell right next to his. She hadn't said anything since her arrival. Chris was going to talk to her. He didn't care if she was, most probably, a demon. They were all prisoners here. Anyway, he needed the company.

"So, what did you do to piss of Wyatt." Chris began casually.

There was silence, then "I could ask you the same thing."

Chris smiled, he liked the sound of her voice. "Lets just say, Wyatt doesn't like anyone who disagrees with him and he…he likes to prove a point."

"Well, in that case, lets just say that he doesn't like someone to refuse to join him and ask who he is in the same sentence. Or for one of his special bodyguards to be killed." the woman said.

"What?" Chris asked, choking slightly, things like that didn't just happen. Wyatt must have been really pissed.

"Me and some of my friends were out. This demon walked up to me. Started checking me out. He was gross, wouldn't leave me alone, so I stabbed him. Turns out, he was one of Wyatt's lackeys."

Chris winced in sympathy.

"I, being the idiot I am, decided to dig myself a even bigger hole. You see this guy walked up to me. Blond hair, blue eyes and told me that I'd just killed one of his best men. Then he asked me to take that guys place as part of his guard. I refused and asked him who he was. I hadn't actually seen Wyatt before or heard his voice and it was really dark. I didn't wait for a answer and turned to walk away. My friend then whispered the name 'Wyatt' and I knew I was in deep shit."

"That's bad. Why did he throw you in here though? Wouldn't he just kill you?" Chris asked. He knew his brother, he would of killed her.

"He gave me one last chance to join him, I refused. He called me a traitor and I found myself here."

"Why did you refuse?" Chris asked curiously, he knew why Wyatt had thrown her here, compared to this, he considered a death by his hand 'merciful'. Arrogant prat.

"I'm a assassin, a hired gun. I work for my clan and my clan alone."

Chris accepted the answer, turning the conversation down a different route. "My names Chris."

A figure walked up to the bars that separated their cells.

"I'm Bianca."

---

Chris ran down the corridor, leaving the rooms he had basically destroyed, the sword and the gun in the same hand, held tightly. He didn't want to drop them. That would suck. It had wasted time, but that was necessary. The gun was still, obviously, in his possession, he felt guilty for shooting those guards as they hadn't done anything wrong except do their jobs, but it made him look like the ruthless criminal he 'was'. Still, it had felt strange, almost natural. Oh well, he didn't dwell on that feeling. Instead, he concentrated on remembering where the way out was. It would not be good if he forgot where he was going. Or got lost.

He skidded to a halt and looked around, he had come to a crossroad, so to speak, in the corridors. Which way? Left or right? This way or that? How the hell was he supposed to know which way to go? He stood confused for a moment, before he made up his mind. Making a split second decision, he turned left. As he ran down the corridor he realised he had definitely gone the right way, he was heading towards a backwards exit. Though, it wasn't exactly a secret one. So nice of the museum to have such helpful signs.

As he rounded the last corner to the exit, he saw only one guard, and the door he was standing stonily in front of. Perfect. That was the way out. He was close. The man saw him, raising up his gun and screaming at him to stop, to freeze, just like other guards before him had done. Chris didn't even slow down, knocking the guards gun out of his hand before he could even fire of a single shot, he raced towards the door leaving the guard to scramble for his weapon. His hand closed around the handle, and he tried to open it but, of course, it was locked. Giving the handle one more frustrated yank, Chris let go and decided he would have to try something else. A different tactic. Stepping backwards, he held the gun in his free hand and shot a bullet at the lock. It didn't have any effect. He turned around, looking towards the guard with his gun aimed at him.

"Don't suppose you have a key on you?" He deadpanned.

The guard just looked at him like he was crazy.

"Guess not."

He ran through his options in his mind, what could he do? Without having to shoot the guard? He'd done enough of that. He needed something to distract the guard, something that he could throw at him. Possibly?. Preferably, something heavy. I wonder…

A second later, the guard felt something heavy impact on his face and was promptly startled. He hadn't even seen it coming and he didn't register exactly what it was until Chris had closed the five step gap between them. The guard looked at Chris unblinkingly, incredulously, raising a single eyebrow at his realisation of what had just hit him in the face. His look of complete and utter disbelief seemed to say, quite clearly.

"You threw a shoe at me?"

Chris had the decency to look slightly sheepish. "It was all I had."

The next thing the guard knew, he was on the floor, his vision blurring, as Chris brought the gun crashing down on his head, knocking him out cold. He vaguely registered the sudden flare of pain in his skull, originating from the point where he had been struck, but he'd worry about that when he woke up.

Just like he'd then ponder that bloody shoe that hit him.

Chris sighed as the guard slumped to the floor, he retrieved his shoe from where it had fallen onto the floor, dusted it off slightly, before slipping it back onto his foot. Then, he straightened his shirt, before turning around and walking back to the door. Casting a nervous glance around for cameras, he was annoyed at how much he'd had to do that tonight, Chris breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't find any.

Chris allowed himself a small smile as he contemplated getting out of the museum.

Spinning slightly on his heel, for a dramatic effect, he flamed out. The dark fire flaring, before disappearing once more.

Chris Halliwell has left the building.

----

No.

A lord sat on his gilded throne. Decked out in all his expensive and regal looking glamour.

A crowd. The lord…he was part of the crowd. Though, separated from the rest. Segregated, but not, more like a act done on purpose. To prove a point. I'm better, I'm stronger, I rule you.

Different.

Why?

What made him different? What made him better? What made him stronger? Why did he rule?

Beside him, but not, there sat six others. They seemed important, but not. Like everything else they were pieces in his game of chess. Not at all different. Its just, they were bishops and knights, instead of pawns. Still, they were there to be manipulated, puppets on the lords strings.

There was a stadium. Lights and people all around. The middle empty.

Noise.

Endless noise. Loud, happy. They didn't need to fear. Increasing in volume. Jeering, mocking. They didn't need to sympathise. Changing emotion. Cold, biting. They didn't need to be liked. It never stops. Honest, sincere. They didn't need to lie.

So much treachery.

Friends turned to foes. One dead. Families now estranged, taking sides. One type of loyalty lives, the other dies. Enemies turned friends. Both dead. Mortals. Dead. Demons. Dead. Whitelighters. Dead. Dead, dead, dead, dead, DEAD.

One reason.

Loyalty. Betrayal. Trust. Friendship. Survival.

One reason.

An offer. A wish. A want. A promise.

One reason.

Pride. Stubbornness. Good. Evil.

One reason.

Which side are you on?

----

Paige paced round in the attic nervously.

She had just checked on Wyatt, he had woken from his short sleep, and so she had helped him settle back down again. The manor was eerily silent and she couldn't help but feel apprehensive, like something was going to happen. Desperate for something to do, she walked over to the book and started flicking through the pages, there had to be something she'd missed. Something that would be able to help. She wished her sisters were here, they were stronger together. Poor Chris, she thought, she could only imagine how he could be feeling now. He was all alone. She didn't know why he had been so desperate to get away from them. It was strange. Could it be that all the time he had been trying to get their trust he had been also trying to give them his?

It made sense, since she doubted his trust in her and her sisters anyway. He always seemed guarded around them. Never really relaxed, even if he acted like it. He preferred to do most of the dangerous ideas he came up with alone. Though, somehow, he managed not to get himself killed. She just didn't know how he did it.

Though, despite his apparent lack of trust in them, she hoped he would come to them if ever he was in real trouble.

Still, she had a nagging suspicion that this really wasn't the case.

"He'd probably just find a way to get us to help him without letting us know he was in trouble. Sneaky lit-" Paige never got to finish her sentence as someone chose that exact moment to flame in. She raised her hand to orb any fire balls that they might throw at her and prepared herself for a vanquish.

The orange and red colours of fire rose from the ground in the shape of a person. A very familiar person. It took her a whole five seconds for her brain to process what her eyes were seeing and then another five seconds for her to find her voice. When she did, she said the only word that made sense.

"Chris?"

"Paige?" Chris looked at her through unfocused eyes.

Silence.

She didn't know what to say. She guessed she was in shock. Extreme shock. Its not every day you find out that your whitelighter, who is also part witch, can flame as a method of travel. How could he do that? She realised that she had to say something. It was kinda her turn to speak.

"So, you can flame?" Paige whispered.

"Yeah." He appeared uncomfortable, glancing at the floor as he spoke, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Your not supposed to be able to do that." Paige stated.

"I'm not supposed to be able to do a lot of things." Chris muttered bitterly, finally looking up at her. He didn't look as crazy as he did before but she saw a definite tiredness to his features. Green eyes showed obvious fatigue and he lifted his head up slowly, shaking his brown hair out of his eyes. Long story short, he looked dead on his feet. Worse of all, he seemed to be offering almost absentminded comments about himself. He never revealed things about himself. At least not willingly.

"Since when does that stop you?" Paige said, thinking absently to the fact that people weren't supposed to time travel.

Chris grinned briefly and said smugly "Never."

Silence. This time, however, it was more comfortable. Still, Paige knew that things had to be done and said.

"Look, Chris." She began, but he wasn't looking at her, his gaze had drifted around the room and she realised she no longer had his attention. "Its important."

Chris's eyes snapped back to her face.

"We, that is me and my sisters, know you have a magical disease. Portal sickness I think its called." She continued, pausing when she saw recognition spark in his eyes.

Chris nodded absently. "Yeah. That's it."

"Well? How do you feel?" She asked curiously. She didn't know how it worked but he didn't look like he was dying. Yet.

"Sleepy." He murmured quietly. "And someone's trying to smash my skull in with a hammer. Not good."

" Do you want to sit down?" Paige asked worriedly. That was a bad combination. Though, to her, it just sounded like a bad hangover.

"That might be a good idea." Chris replied. He took careful steps over to the sofa in the attic, showing that he had probably fallen over a short while ago. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Paige couldn't help but wish she had been there to see that. He sat down and she saw him relax, if she left him, he would probably go of to sleep. Paige sat down next to him.

"How can you flame?"

"You've just been dying to ask that haven't you?" Chris replied sarcastically. At her glare, he rolled his eyes and continued. "Three words. Power. Stealing. Athame."

"You have one?" she asked interested.

"Yep. A modified version. Got it from the future. Stole it from someone." Chris was smiling smugly, and Paige knew that she was missing something.

"You stole it?" she asked. Amused.

"Yes. From someone who really pissed me off." That would explain the smile then, Paige thought.

"Revenge is a dish best served cold, right?"

"Exactly."

Silence.

"Listen. I know that this disease…Portal sickness? Is fatal. I know that I'm going to die." Chris began quietly. Paige turned to him surprised.

"No. Piper and Leo have gone to find the cure. Its in the Underworld."

"But its just a rumour right?" he said.

She turned her head away slightly. "Yes."

"That's my point. Just a rumour. Demons lie. It may not even exist. I…I can feel my body shutting down. I can feel that I'm dying. I know I don't have much time left. I can't use my powers anymore." he whispered.

"So your just giving up? You don't even know that the cures a fake? How could you know? Don't be such a idiot!" Paige almost screamed. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Yes I do know. In my future, no cure was ever created for Portal Sickness." Chris answered slowly.

"But…but things change. The future isn't set in stone! You could of changed that. There could be a cure now." She didn't believe it. There was no way she'd believe it.

"No. There is no cure. The best potion makers and spell casters of my time tried to find a cure. I know because I knew the one who wanted it. Anyway, they couldn't find a cure and they had all the knowledge of the future I doubt anyone here could make a cure without that knowledge." Chris explained grimly.

"That doesn't mean you have to give up!" Paige spat furiously.

"I never said I was. Cure or no cure. Disease or no disease. I won't just let it kill me. I'm just going to be prepared for what is a distinct possibility, but I won't give up. I'm too stubborn." he agreed. Smiling slightly towards the end. "Part of that preparation, is to tell you something I should of told you when I first came to the past."

"What?" Paige asked, what could be so important.

He glanced around for a moment. "I told you that there was/is a evil in the future, right?"

Paige nodded.

"Well, I never told you what, or who, that evil was/is? Correct?"

With nothing else to do, Paige just nodded again.

"Well, I'm going to be blunt and just say it. It may shock you, but you should get over it." He paused.

"The evil is Wyatt."

Silence.

Paige didn't know what to think. Her mind was screaming lies, lies but part of her mind was also saying that it made sense. It a twisted sort of way. What else could of happened except Wyatt dying? And she knew from how Chris had acted that that wasn't the case. This was the only other option. Still, she didn't know how she was supposed to react to it. Chris clearly didn't either. She had to say something.

"I…I have to tell Phoebe and the others that you're here." Paige said hastily. She stood up and started to walk to the door in the middle of the attic. Chris hadn't seemed to of noticed it.

She was stopped when his hand reached out and grabbed her own.

Startled, she turned back to face him. He was freezing! However, whatever she was going to say fled her mind when he spoke before she did.

"Please. Stay with me."

----

Piper and Leo appeared in the library of magic school in s shower of blue and white orbs. Phoebe was sitting down reading a book, as was Victor, while Gideon was by a bookcase. They all looked up when they orbed in. Victor smiled in relief but Phoebe noticed the grim looks on their faces and she knew. She just knew.

"You didn't find it, did you?" She stated.

"No." Piper answered softly. "It was a hoax, someone's idea of a joke. There is no cure, there never was."

"The demon who planned it? What of them?" Phoebe asked.

"Their…dead. We don't need to worry about them anymore." Piper said hesitantly. Leo looked at her oddly. She ignored him.

"No!"

Everyone turned to Victor.

"No. That's not true! There has to be a cure. You can't let him die." Victor continued. He was yelling, shouting. There was a raw pain to his voice.

"We're not going to let him die Victor there must be another way." Phoebe tried to reassure him. "Anyway, Chris is tough." She tried to smile, but she could already feel the hopelessness of the situation. No. she mustn't think like that.

"Does this mean we are going back to the manor?" Leo asked sadly.

"But won't there be a solution in one of these books? We just have to find it. We can make him better. Maybe he's found the cure all on his own and when we tell him how worried we've been he's going to laugh at us." Victor said desperately. That did sound like Chris.

"No, we have to go back to the manor and talk to Paige. Did you find a way to find Chris?" Piper asked.

Phoebe slowly shook her head.

"It doesn't matter. we'll regroup with Paige and then everything will turn out fine." Piper said. She turned to the door in the middle of the library. "Lets go."

She walked through the door, with a confident, if subdued stride. The others followed her at a equally sedate pace. The door handle was cold, the wood echoing her mood. She wished that she knew how she could save Chris. He'd done so much for them. Paige owed her live to him. He was so young, he didn't deserve this. No one did. She tried to snap herself out of it. He's not dead yet. Weird. Just that thought seemed to fill her with hope….now she sounded like some sort of cliché character. She wished it was like that, because then Chris would live. Maybe if she thought as cliché like as possible then he would survive. Right, how about that I have just found out that he's my son? Now all he needs is to lose a arm and it'll work. She almost laughed, but then she remembered that he was dying and she felt sad again but also guilty for being almost happy.

Those thoughts were pushed aside when she entered the attic. Chris was lying down on the sofa and Paige was kneeling beside him. He looked so pale and tired. More tired than she had ever seen him. It hurt to think that he was suffering from something that she had thought could be cured. She had had it within touching reach and it had been fake. Chris saw her and gave her a weak smile but then his eyes focused on someone behind her.

"Chris?" Victor said.

"Hey Victor." Chris whispered softly.

"Can we have some time alone? It may give you a chance to figure stuff out. Take the book." Victor asked, but it was more of a order.

Piper nodded and motioning to her sisters and the two Elders, she left the room. Them following her, Paige carrying the book. She sensed that they needed this time alone and she knew that she could concentrate better if she was downstairs. They would find a solution. They had too.

---

"Oh Chris." Victor said sadly. "What have you got yourself into now?"

"I don't know." Chris said quietly. "I really don't know."

"Piper says that there was no cure, but don't worry. They'll figure something out." Victor stated firmly.

"Come one. You know that's not going to be enough." Chris whispered. "You know what's happening. You know I'm going to-"

"Stop it! Don't say that your going to die! Don't you dare tell me that." Victor shouted desperately. "Don't tell me that your going to leave me."

"I'm sorry." Chris whispered.

"I don't want you saying that either! You can't be sorry. Your not going to die so there's nothing to be sorry about." Victor retorted.

"I am sorry though. I'm sorry because I am going to leave you."

"I wish. I wish things had been different grandpa." Chris continued. Victor felt tears well up in his eyes. " I wish, that Wyatt had never turned and…and that we all still lived in the manor. A family. Just like before. Mum would still be alive and so would my aunts. You'll visit every Saturday. Just like you used to. Do you remember? I do. It was great. That's the world that I was trying to create. Bianca would be there. It would be just like before. We'd be there again. And, that time, it would be different. This time it will be different. That is the life we should have had. The life we will have. It all comes down to Wyatt. Save Wyatt. I-I can't do anything more. My times up."

"But your time doesn't have to be up. You can still be saved." Victor blinked back the tears and managed to say.

"Maybe, maybe not." Chris said, somehow managing to agree with Victor and disagree with him in the same sentence. Typical. "This is me preparing for the worst case scenario."

Victor was about to reply, tell Chris how stupid he was being when Chris spoke again.

"Where do you think I'll go?"

Victor knew what Chris was asking but he found he couldn't speak.

"I mean. I can't stay in the past. Do you think I'll go to the future and move on there? I'll…I'll see mom! I'll bet she's waiting. She's probably even found a way to bake me cookies. They'll taste great." Chris looked Victor straight in the eye. "I'll miss you." I love you.

Overwhelmed, Victor couldn't take anymore.

"Shut up! I won't have you saying that. You won't die. I won't let you. I'm supposed to kick the bucket first, not you." I'm the one with cancer! I'm supposed to have the incurable disease. Both of us aren't supposed to die. Your not supposed to die. Victor cut himself off before he said too much. He could bear to tell Chris that now.

Chris simply adjusted the way he was lying to make himself more comfortable. He then looked back to Victors face and smiled sadly.

"I have to say this before…before. Yeah. I have to say this. I've been thinking. Everything. Me coming to the past and more recent events like the business with the Illusion demon. Its…connected."

"Chris-" Victor began.

"No, let me finish. Its all been planned. I don't know how and I don't know why but there is something big going on here. Something dangerous." Chris continued, before he seemed to calm down and relax. Closing his eyes, he looked like he was drifting of to sleep, but it was more than that. Much more.

"Chris!"

No response.

"Chris!"

Frantically, Victor checked his wrist for a pulse. Chris would of responded to his calls by now. He wouldn't of ignored him for that long. He wouldn't og ignored him at all. He was relieved when he finally found one. Steady and strong. Maybe he was overreacting. Chris had looked incredibly tired so maybe all he needed was to sleep. Victor allowed himself a small smile. Chris would be fine. Soon everything would go back to normal, with Chris being his neurotic self. All this could be forgotten and Chris would stop his new found touchy feely stuff. His daughters and Leo would come up the stairs with a way to help him and-

Chris's heart stopped.

----

I'll leave it there. This chapter was getting too long anyway, eventhough there are less words in it then there are in others. Don't know how that happened. Sorry. Don't worry, I should have the next chapter up quickly. This has been dragging on long enough. I hope you enjoyed it. Sorry about the wait and any mistakes in here, I really wanted to upload it. There isn't much I can say about this one. Me and my sister acted out the fight scenes, obviously without the gun part. I added some references to some stuff in here so my big sisters going to be a little confused. She thinks she knows all about my storylines XD. It was also her idea for the whole shoe thing. thats why its a little wierd. All her fault. It was hard to write this chapter. I didn't really know how to do all the sad stuff so I don't know whether I did it well or not. Please review. I hoped you liked the chapter. Sorry about the cliffhanger.