By natural instinct, the first thing Chris attempted to do was orb his way out from under the dark mass. It let go its hold on him backing away at the light of the orbs. Chris looked around, saw he was down in the underworld, and groaned.

"I guess this means it's already opened," he said to himself.

The black shadow again began to roll towards him and he jumped out of the way.

"Think quick, Chris. You know the book inside out. How do you defeat a shadow demon?"

He remembered how it had let go of him when he tried to orb away. He orbed to the other side of the room. The shadow began tossing and turning like wild waves, rolling towards him and then rolling away when he orbed somewhere else. After about five attempts of doing this, Chris realised it was getting him nowhere. It was an endless game of catch-me-if-you-can that neither of them was going to win. He needed another plan.

Looking around his surroundings he saw this crypt of a cavern was pretty much bare. One lone flaming torch burned on the wall, providing just enough light for the shadow to survive. Chris orbed over to it. He wasn't going to put it out. If he placed himself in eternal night, who knows what would happen. Instead he ripped it from the wall and held it in front of him. The shadows flickered at his feet. He passed the torch in front of him. The shadow crept back a little.

"C'mon, take a shot at me," Chris taunted. "Or are you just going to be a useless dark mass like the Blob or… or Flubber?"

He pulled the torch back, giving it an easy shot at him. The shadow demon sprang forward like a wild animal and Chris thrust the torch into the belly of it – or what would pass for a belly if it had one. It let out a high-pitched squeal like a pig in great danger, and then burst into pieces. Suddenly the room wasn't as dark as what it had been.

"Now, for a way to get out of here," Chris said, looking around.

There was a small opening to his left that was covered in some kind of stringy mass. He walked over and placed the flame of the torch against it, setting it alight and watching it burn upwards, fragmenting down. He crouched down and walked through the narrow tunnel, holding the torch steady in front of him, at the same time trying not to burn his face as the flames flickered backwards. The tunnel ran flat for a while until he reached a point where it rose on a sharp incline. He sighed with frustration, patting on the wall but finding his only way out would be to climb. He laid the torch on the ground, watching as it smouldered out, before wedging his fingers into the cracks and lifting himself up onto the slope. He found the going slippery, his feet sliding out from under him as he progressed. Parts of the wall were slimy, residue from left over rain that had tumbled down into this little hidey hole. He hoisted himself over the edge and tumbled into an open area. His hands and clothes were covered in brown muck. He looked up, squinting into the sun, and figured he was in a place which wouldn't prevent him orbing out.

"Here goes," he said and orbed back to P3. It was empty. "Paris?"

He searched around the main room, and even the back room. She was nowhere to be found. Chris panicked, wondering what would happen when his aunt, or even his mother, found out he'd lost her. He orbed himself back to the manor.

"Chris?" Piper said, spying him through the kitchen doorway. He grimaced at being caught and slowly made his way into her. "Honey, are you okay? What happened?"

"Shadow demon," he answered.

"Shadow demon?" Piper repeated disbelievingly. "And they became slimy creatures when?"

"It was his… oh, nevermind," Chris said, giving up on trying to explain it all. "The important thing is that someone really did get to Melaina, and that they definitely reopened the underworld."

"I see." Piper glanced behind him. "And where did you leave your cousin while all this was going on?"

"Paris? Well… uh…"

"She's here," Leo said, guiding Paris through the front door.

Paris looked at Chris and screwed her nose up when she saw he was covered in some kind of slimy substance. "Ew."

"Thanks," Chris said. "Nice to see you too."

"Looks like you've both been through some trouble tonight," Leo said.

Piper came out of the kitchen and tapped Chris's shoulder. "Go on, go upstairs and get changed out of that, then throw it in the laundry."

Chris glanced back to his mother then went upstairs without saying a word. She gingerly pulled her hand back and shook it, looking at her fingers to see if she'd gotten any of the stuff on her. She put her hands on her thighs and looked at Leo and Paris who were still standing in the hallway.

"So where have you two been?" Piper questioned.

"I found her in the park," Leo explained. "She was being chased by a Lupine."

"It didn't bite you did it?" Piper asked concerned. Paris shook her head.

"She, ah, blew it up," Leo explained.

"What, like…?" Piper motioned with her hands, indicating her own power of molecular combustion.

"No, I…" Leo looked down at Paris. "I'm not really sure yet. I don't know what her abilities are."

"You didn't tell mom, did you?" Paris suddenly piped up in a frightened voice.

"No, no," Piper answered, shaking her head and cocking it to the side. "I haven't tried again."

Chris reappeared at the bottom of the stairs, his hand still on the head of the banister as he looked between them all.

"So, dad, any word from the Elders?" Chris asked.

Leo moved Paris into the living room and sat her down on the lounge. Chris and Piper followed.

"They want you to be her whitelighter, Chris," Leo said.

"What? Who?" Chris questioned.

"Paris. She needs one. You get to be the lucky overseer."

"Dad, no! I don't have time!" Chris complained.

"Why not?" Leo said, having the eerie feeling he'd had this conversation with Chris before.

"Because I just… don't. Why do I have to oversee her, anyway? She's my cousin. Can't someone else do it?"

"You don't get to be a whitelighter without having charges, Chris. That's what we do."

"Need I point out that I'm half witch?" Chris stated.

"All the better," Leo said. "Paris needs to learn and adapt to her new powers. You seem to be well aware of what she's capable of."

"Is this my punishment for kidnapping?" Chris asked, looking back to Piper. She smiled and nodded. Chris gave a defeated sigh and looked at Paris, seated on the lounge with her hands clasped together in her lap. "This is all your fault."

"Chris!" Piper scolded. He dropped onto the lounge across from Paris, annoyed at what he'd just got himself into. Piper looked at Paris who seemed to be trying to act like the good-natured girl her parents thought she was. "This is better for Paris, anyway. She doesn't want Phoebe to know about her powers, and at least with Chris around it won't be quite as obvious that she's trying to learn to control them."

Paris, liking the suggestion, sat up straighter and smiled at Chris, nodding that he should accept the offer. Chris rolled his eyes, looking away.

"Please, Chris," Paris begged. "I couldn't trust anyone but you. And this way mom doesn't find out. Will you help me? Please?"

"Fine," Chris agreed with a wave of his hand, giving in to the three of them. "So when do I start?"

"Right now," Leo said.

"Now?" Chris whined.

"Yes," Leo answered.

Piper looked back to the kitchen. "I'll leave you guys to this. I better get dinner out."

Paris bounced in her seat. "So how does this work? Can you teach me new things? Can I orb?"

She stood, racing over to a clear space in the lounge room, closing her eyes and motioning with her hands. After a moment she opened her eyes again. Chris and Leo were staring at her.

"Guess that doesn't work then," she said, reluctantly sitting back down.

"You can only use the powers that have been given to you," Leo said.

"Which means you can't orb. You're not part whitelighter," Chris added.

Paris stuck her tongue out at him. "Show-off."

Chris rolled his eyes, looking back at his father. "Do I have to do this?"

"Yes," Leo said. He turned his attention back to Paris. "So apart from the blowing up Lupine's trick you pulled, what else have you been able to do?"

"Well I had a premonition about that," she said honestly. She glanced back to Chris. "As well as other things."

Chris leant forward. "See this is the thing I don't get. You had all these powers before we went back in time, and now you're suddenly new to it all again."

"I didn't have them all before we left! Well, okay, I did but only briefly. I'd only just got them then too Chris, it's not my fault what we did ended up with me having no powers when I came back."

"We?" Leo intervened. "Okay you two have some serious explaining to do. What exactly did you two get up to back then? I mean, apart from the stuff I saw."

"Chris never came back before," Paris explained. "He died. Someone stabbed him."

"Almost," Chris countered. He glanced up to Leo, seeing that his father needed an explanation. "Gideon."

"And I thought it was you, that's why I went back to warn him," Paris added. Leo looked shocked.

"Me? Why would I hurt Chris?" he questioned.

"Well you weren't around." Paris shrugged offhandedly. "Plus the temper thing, and Wyatt."

"Hey, hey, hey," Leo held up his hands. "What are you talking about?"

"Wyatt was evil. I went back to change that, remember?" Chris said. Leo nodded slowly.

"So this is the change," Leo said. "Everything improved?"

"I think so," Chris agreed. "But I didn't know any of this underworld stuff. You must never have told me."

"I thought it was in your best interests."

"Well now it's a problem. And I need Paris to help me with it."

"What about Wyatt?" Leo asked.

"Forget Wyatt," Chris snapped, cutting Leo off as he mentioned his brother's name. "He's got to be behind all this."

"How is that plausible, Chris? He's got his own life now. He's so busy at the hospital he barely has time to even talk to us, let alone open up the underworld."

Chris folded his arms, sitting back in the armchair. "There has to be a way he's doing it."

"Look, Chris, I'm not going to fight with you about your brother. You're supposed to be looking after Paris now." Leo turned back to Paris. "So, premonitions. What else can you do?"

She thought for a moment. "I've warped metal things."

"Warped?" Leo questioned.

"Scorched. Melted." Her eyes flicked to the kitchen. "Oh, and apparently I burnt the chicken."

Leo looked at her strangely, trying to work out exactly what to categorise the power under. Chris leant his head back against the chair.

"She has a heat source in her hands," he explained.

"Is that how you destroyed the Lupine?" Leo asked. She lifted a shoulder, a little unsure. "It might be a form of pyrokinesis. Can you do it again?"

Paris lifted her hands, aiming them with the palms facing outwards. Chris moved into action, leaping off his seat and grabbing her hands and twisting the palms so they faced up.

"No, don't! I wouldn't be doing it that way. Mom would kill you if you flamed something else," Chris explained. Paris looked a little guiltily into his eyes. He gave her a reassuring smile. "Hey, don't look so worried. I'll help you get it under control."

"Thanks," she said, and returned his smile.

"So take it easy. Start small," he encouraged. She looked down at her hands. Nothing. Chris tilted his head to the side. "What's the matter?"

"I don't know," she said.

"Well how did you do it before?" Chris persisted. She yanked her hands away, getting angry at him.

"You know, Chris, all I had to do was think about it before. I just had to want it more than nothing else. But now that doesn't work. None of it does. I don't even know if it was worth bringing you back," she shouted.

Chris looked at her in surprise, wondering how she could say such a thing. Her hands suddenly ignited and Chris quickly reached out, folding her fingers over into her palms. He kept a tight hold over the fists he had made from her hands.

"Looks like her emotions are a catalyst," Leo said.

Chris kept his eyes locked on Paris'. "Don't get upset with me. You have to keep calm if you want to do this."

Paris swallowed and sighed, her gaze drifting away. Gradually Chris released his grip on her hands. She looked down at her hands, and again she could see nothing wrong with them. She opened and closed her hand, working her fingers, wondering how exactly that had happened. Chris sat patiently in front of her.

"Are you ready?" Chris asked. She nodded. He put his hands under hers, the palms still facing upwards. "Try."

She stared at her hands. Nothing happened. She looked back up to Chris helplessly.

"Do I have to get mad at you again?" she asked. He chuckled.

"No, just concentrate," he said.

She looked back down, closing her eyes briefly. She heard her uncle telling her to picture it in her mind. She did so. Slowly she opened her eyes and stared at her hand. The centre of her palm sparked and flickered like she'd just lit up a match, then went out again.

"That's a good start," Chris said with a nod of his head.

She smiled and tried again. This time the flame was a little higher, it burnt for a little longer, and went out just as quickly.

"Now you're getting the hang of it," Chris encouraged.

"Maybe she should try something else?" Leo suggested.

"Like what?" Chris asked. Leo held out his hand and generated an energy ball, quickly putting it out before Piper could spot him. "Oh that."

"Leo!" Piper called.

He glanced from Chris to Paris. Paris was smirking as if she suspected he was in trouble. "I'll be right back."

"How's she going?" Piper asked as Leo joined her in the kitchen doorway.

"Good," Leo said positively. "She's making progress."

Piper glanced over his shoulder, watching as Chris patiently sat with Paris, giving her a little encouragement every now and then. She seemed to be listening intently to him, appreciating his help. Piper looked back to Leo and smiled.

"Our little boy's a good teacher, huh?" she said.

"That he is."

"You know if this doesn't work out, at the club, maybe I should give Paige a call and see if he can help out at the magic school."

"Don't you think he wants to spend time with his family right now?" Leo asked, looking at Piper doubtfully.

"Yes I know I said that, but…" She looked at Chris thoughtfully. "I don't want to be holding him back from anything."

"He's on a learning curve. Things will work out. You know Chris, he may get into trouble, but he always lands back on his feet."

"With a little help from his family," Piper added, her lips curving into a smile.

"Exactly," Leo said. He softly patted her arm and then turned back to Paris and Chris, heading around the couch to where he had just stood. "How's it going?"

"I think I got it," Paris said happily. She held out her palm and instantly a small flame ignited. "I wanna try the ball."

"Go ahead," Leo said, nodding encouragingly.

She closed her eyes, screwing up her face in concentration as she tried to picture a ball exactly like the one Leo had shown her. She felt something move in her hand and opened her eyes. A flame lit, dividing like the Red Sea, and spilling up and around into a sphere-like shape. At first she was happy, but then she looked at it a little worried. It wasn't glowing with a blue essence like her uncle's, but with an angry red colour. She glanced to Chris. He smiled and passed his hand over the top in a circular motion, as if he was patting the back of a cat. The red colour dissolved, lightening and changing into the same whitish-blue that Leo had produced. Paris gasped in amazement.

"How did you do that?" she asked with awe.

Chris glanced up to his father, smiling with satisfaction. "My father taught me."

"But… why was mine red? Why not blue like yours Uncle Leo?"

"Well I think it has a little something to do with your mother," Leo said. Paris looked at him strangely. "She's absorbed a number of powers over the years - demon powers. Every time someone takes on one of those powers it becomes part of their DNA."

"But didn't Paige stab her to get them out?" Chris interrupted, cringing at the memory. Paris stared at him, horrified. He glanced back, noting what he had just said. "Oh, no, um, the athame. The one you found upstairs from the Witch Wars."

"That was used to drain the powers back from her, yes," Leo explained. "But being exposed to those powers for a series of time and having the ability to use them, it leaves a permanent mark on your DNA. Because of this Paris will probably show signs of demon parentage."

"But that wasn't like pyrokinesis, was it?" Chris asked. "I mean even though it originated from a demon, the energy balls were still blue."

"Well in that case, yes, but she had the ability of pyrokinesis when she was pregnant to the Source."

Chris' jaw dropped. "The Source? Hang on, when was she pregnant to the bad guys?"

"After she married Cole Turner," Leo answered. Paris' eyes lit up, staring at her uncle. She remembered the name from the business card she had flipped over in her mother's old room. She also remembered that her mother had written pages and pages about him in her diaries, but the actual details were now vague in her memory. "She didn't realise that he had been imbued with the power of the Source, and it all became an elaborate plan to produce his evil offspring. His son."

"I have a brother?" Paris asked.

"Well, no, he was vanquished. His power was too great for anyone to handle. He was beginning to take over Phoebe with his powers from the womb."

Chris shook his head, looking annoyed again. "Not another one. Why didn't I?"

"As I said, it all depends on your DNA, and your parentage. Some people's powers are developed sooner than others. It took years for the Charmed Ones to receive all their powers. Wyatt had the majority of his from the womb which is what made him such a dangerous threat. You, Chris, didn't have any until after you were born, and Paris, you are only starting to develop yours now. Everyone is different."

"If Wyatt's such a dangerous threat because of all his powers, how come we don't see him use them more often?" Paris questioned.

Leo smiled. "He's more of a lateral thinker. You will see him use them, but you have to look closely. He's very subtle in the way he does things."

"Black? Or white with two sugars?" Wyatt thought aloud, staring down at the coffee cup on the bench.

Making up his mind he picked up a sugar packet between thumb and forefinger, tearing it open across the top and easing the contents into the already steaming cup. With the second packet in hand he gently let it go, watching with an amused smile as it hung suspended in the air, pouring its contents into the cup without any physical assistance from himself. He wasn't concerned about anybody catching him out, he always had an offbeat excuse at hand if they did.

The place had quietened down remarkably now that visiting hours were over. Even half the staff appeared to have vanished.

'Must be changeover time,' he thought dully, raising the cup to his lips. The warm liquid did nothing to aid the growling in his stomach. Glancing at the clock on the wall he realised he hadn't eaten in almost twelve hours. 'Mom would be putting some gourmet meal out right about now.' His mouth watered at the thought

He heard his name announced over the loudspeaker and groaned audibly, putting the coffee cup down. All he wanted right now was food and sleep, not more irritable patients and work demands. Slowly he made his way up the hallway, plastering a smile on his face as he rounded the corner into one of the rooms.

"Yes, Mrs Grace?" he said, immediately picking up her file at the end of the bed and leafing through it. It took him only a few short minutes to notice that she wasn't responding, and that a series of nurses were surrounding her. "What happened?"

"She's not responding," one of the nurses said.

"I can see that," he replied grimly.

"Dr. Halliwell," another nurse called from the doorway, motioning for him to come out.

Casting a quick glance at Mrs Grace, Wyatt walked back to the hallway. He heard someone flatline. His beeper sounded. He raced towards the room where he'd heard the flatline, and then the sound echoed somewhere else. All the patients seemed to be dying right at this moment, no matter how healthy their condition was.

"What the hell is going on?" Wyatt asked, confused, running from one room to another.

He was thankful that all the staff seemed to have reappeared. Everyone had divided themselves into the various rooms.

"Jeannie, get Dr. Lee," Wyatt said, seeing one of the nurses he knew quite well. She nodded and raced off.

Wyatt picked up the pace, noticing the trend seemed to be making a progressive line down the corridor. Hoping he would be able to stop whatever was going on he dashed down the hall and around the corner, heading for the last few rooms. He stopped in his tracks as a demon uncloaked before him. It was massive in both height and build, its horns curling in spirals on the top of its head. Wyatt wasn't certain, but he could swear that its skin seemed to move of its own accord. He smirked, looking the demon up and down as its nostrils flared; obviously angered that Wyatt had interrupted him.

"What do we have here?" Wyatt questioned.

"Kegrah," the demon growled, its voice so low that it almost sounded like a stomach rumble instead of speech.

Wyatt stroked his chin, nodding. He knew of Kegrah demons. They were soul-keepers. He'd heard stories long ago of how they used to prey on the sick, the elderly, lurking anywhere that they could easily feed on their habits.

"Ah, I see." Wyatt made a grand sweeping gesture with his hand. "Welcome to San Francisco Memorial. I'm sorry to say that we don't cater for your kind here, so I will have to request you leave. Visiting hours are long over."

The Kegrah growled, taking a step towards Wyatt, disliking the mocking tone in his voice. It raised its hand. Wyatt lifted a finger, shaking it at him.

"Uh uh, I wouldn't do that if I were you," Wyatt warned.

The demon refused to listen and Wyatt snapped his fingers closed, lifting his hand. The demon's skin stopped moving as he glared at Wyatt, his breath coming out in short wheezes through his flaring nose. Wyatt saw the strangulation measure wasn't enough. He lifted the heavy demon so that it levitated off the ground and then threw it backwards, powering up an energy ball as he waited for it to regain its footing.

"I'm not fond of your modus operandi," Wyatt said. "Especially not in places of my business. Now if you care to return a few souls, I'm only happy to allow you a few extra minutes, but I'm afraid you will be unable to persuade me to concede to any further action on your part."

The Kegrah's hand shot forward, a stream of air jetting from it like particles of dirt in the wind. Wyatt activated his shield, letting the grit fall against it and tumble to the ground. Realising he wouldn't have a decent excuse for a bubbled force field being around him, or for the monster in front of him, Wyatt quickly deactivated the shield. The energy ball still in hand he pitched it forward, watching it smoulder as it hit the demon squarely on the chest. The Kegrah growled, bringing its hands forwards and slapping them together, then dropping down and slamming the ground with his huge fists. The floor trembled and Wyatt had to take a step back to try and steady himself. He could hear the trolleys further down the corridor squeak as their wheels moved, and then an almighty metallic crash as they collided with one another and with the walls around them.

"That's hardly fair," Wyatt said to the Kegrah.

Hearing footsteps running up the corridor he had run up earlier, and knowing someone would shortly turn the corner and see them; Wyatt knew he had to do something quick to finish this once and for all. He brought his hands forward, flicking his fingers, and the Kegrah exploded. Wyatt shielded his eyes from the fleshy pieces that blasted out, lowering his arm a little to peek out as he saw something like a small tornado circling on the ground emitting a high-pitched whining noise. Thin wisps of transparent air began to break off and guide their way back into the various rooms. The constant drilling of flatlining stopped, and Wyatt heard the distant echo of steady beeping. He knew he hadn't saved them all, only the last few of the not so severe cases. He lowered his arm as the wind disappeared, running a hand back through his hair as he looked at the mess on the floor.

"Wyatt?" another man in a white coat cried in surprise, stopping in his tracks as he rounded the corner only metres from Wyatt, watching as he turned towards him.

"Davis," Wyatt acknowledged with a nod of his head. He glanced back to the mess on the floor, his eyes cocking back towards Davis. "We're going to need the janitor for that."

Davis nodded, looking past Wyatt towards the mess, trying to determine exactly what it was. Wyatt walked up to him and Davis watched with interest, wondering how he could be so casual about what had just happened. Strange occurrences as these were not part of normal life.

"Do me a favour – look after my patients for me. I've been here for twenty-two hours straight. I need a break; just a short one. I know I should be spending it sleeping, but first I think I have to pay a visit to my little brother. It seems he's in serious trouble."

"Uh, sure Wyatt," Davis agreed hesitantly.

"Thanks," Wyatt said, patting his shoulder, and made his way out of the hospital.