Disclaimer: If only, if only...Me? Owning Charmed? That's right up there with the, "Mommy, will you buy me a pony? And a Lexus convertible just in case I don't like the pony? And maybe a fancy truck with four-wheel-drive in case I don't like that?" Mm-hm. Just like the pony...no Charmed. But I don't feel too bad, because I don't own Charmed--AND NEITHER DO YOU! HAHAHAHA! (Apologies to Aaron Spelling and all the Charmed actors and actresses if, by blessed and unlikely chance that you stumble upon this page and really DO own Charmed.) Other than that, though, I have NO REASON to be ashamed for my lack of Charmed-ownership. Lol. So there...

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Chapter Seven

Chris didn't even have time to think about what was going to happen before he slammed into the water. His body hit with such a force that he was completely numb and lost to feeling—the next moment, feeling as though he were on fire. Yet the water was so cold. How could you burn and freeze at the same time?

He'd never seen so much water in one place before. The biggest amount of it he'd even seen was in a bathtub, and that wasn't endlessly deep like the bay seemed to be. Was it possible to lose track of up and down? Where was the surface? He tried to look around, but couldn't see anything in the murky water. His eyes stung and his lungs burned for air. He was thankful, though, that he remembered not to try to breathe on impact. He'd be done for by now. He had some air left…

But where was the surface? He couldn't swim—he couldn't remember having done so before. No one had ever taught him how, but some strange instinct came over him and he started paddling upwards with his arms and feet. Anything to get him anywhere—hopefully towards oxygen.

His muscles began to scream on the inside with every forced movement. His ragged, old clothes felt ten times heavier than ever before. Something brushed his foot. What lived down here? Whose habitat have I invaded? He wondered randomly. If I die down here, will eat be eating my remains?

Ew. He tried not to think about that. Focus—that's what he needed right now, more than ever before. He had to somehow find a way out of this so he didn't fail the mission and let down Pete and the Alliance. He had to—

Then the orbs overcame him again. He let out the precious breath of air in relief, letting the lights travel him where they may. He didn't care where he was headed. Anywhere was better than that water.

He landed with a crash in the corner of Pete's office, drenched and choking for air. His vision immediately blackened and slowly restored itself as he grasped a vague awareness of his surroundings. He was underground again, and Pete had just shot up from his chair in alarm.

"Chris?" he gasped. "What in the—are you all right?"

"Fine," Chris managed to splutter. He grinned ruefully. "Just a bit wet."

"How in the hell did you--?" Pete's dark eyes grew wide with comprehension, then he narrowed them. His expression was suspicious and angry. "No way. I can't believe this. You're a whitelighter?"

"N-no!" Chris shook his head, coughing again to clear his lungs. "I'm not a whitelighter. I have no idea how I…did that thing. It just happened. You have to believe me!" he added desperately when Pete's attitude ceased to change. "It's never happened before today, I swear."

Pete crossed the room over to Chris. "Stand up."

Chris did as he was told. "I…" He wanted to make an excuse, but couldn't find one. What was so bad about orbing? It wasn't like it killed anyone. So he had a weird power. Plenty of people in the Alliance had weird powers, didn't they?

"You what?"

Pete's eyes were cold and unwelcoming. Chris shivered. This man that he'd known all his life, looked up to and tried to please, was suddenly a threat to him.

"I don't understand," said Chris uneasily. "Why are you mad?"

"Because you lied to me," Pete sneered. "You lied to all of us, Chris. How could you? We trusted you. Little did we know, there was a—" His face contorted in disgust. "—whitelighter in our midst."

"What's so bad about whitelighters?" asked Chris. It didn't make any sense. Didn't whitelighters and elders do good? That's what he'd assumed, though there wasn't much talk of them in the Alliance. Actually, people hardly ever mentioned them. His positive feelings for whitelighters came somewhere from within the past he didn't know, a little piece of him that he kept to himself.

"So you admit that you're a whitelighter!" Pete cried.

"That's not what I said! You're not even listening to me!" Chris protested. "What's wrong with you, Pete? Who are you?"

Pete's expression slowly changed into one of unease. "So…you really say that you know nothing of this power? That it just came out of nowhere?"

"Yes."

He sat back down, muttering something under his breath. Chris didn't say anything while Pete thought to himself. What was to happen now? He felt unexplainably guilty for something he didn't mean to do. It was just an orb, a silly power. What was it to Pete if there were whitelighters in the Alliance, anyway? Wouldn't it only make change for the better?

For the first time Chris began to doubt his whole world and everything he knew.

"Does anyone else know you have this power?" Pete demanded.

"The Halliwells," said Chris.

"What!" Pete hissed, outraged. "I can't believe this. How much do they know about you?"

"Just that I'm an orphan kid living on the streets with a demon after him," said Chris. "And Wyatt…he seems to think that I'm…"

"That you're what?" Pete demanded. "Tell me!"

"Nothing," said Chris quickly. "I don't have to tell you anything." He'd never been defiant in his life—he'd always followed the rules, doing what people told him to do. But now he was afraid. The more he was with the Halliwells, the more he felt out of place in the Alliance. Something was wrong.

Why hadn't he seen it before? There was always something weird about the Alliance. Something…tainted, something evil.

"You do have to tell me. I sent you on this mission, Chris," he said in a poorly controlled voice that was shaking in anger. "Not the others. I sent you. I am your commander in this situation, I am your superior. You are entitled to tell me what you know. That's the way things work. Do you understand?"

Chris swallowed. "I don't trust you. I don't know what to think anymore, Pete. I'm old enough now to see that this whole place is amiss. I…"

"You can't do that. You can't just change your mind. We took you in when no one else would! You would've died, being a witch out there."

"I'm grateful that the Alliance took me in, not you. You had nothing to do with it." Chris stared at Pete long and hard as the man caught his breath from the exhilaration of their argument. "Before you question me, I have a few things to ask you myself," Chris said bravely, almost cockily. He didn't know where this sudden courage was coming from, but it felt right.

"Fire away," Pete spat.

"Why is it that the elders and the whitelighters can't sense anyone in the Alliance?" Chris asked.

"You told them about us?" Pete nearly screamed.

"No, I didn't, but I ran into Leo. He said he should've been able to sense me, no matter where I was on earth, seeing that I'm a witch," Chris explained as calmly as possible. "Why couldn't he?"

Pete hesitated. "The Alliance is cloaked," he said simply, as if that was a sufficient explanation.

"Why?" asked Chris incredulously. "Why do we not like elders?"

"The elders don't agree with the Alliance on what's obviously right." Pete didn't—or couldn't—meet Chris in the eye. "We cut of ties with them at the massacre."

"What is it that the Alliance thinks is so right if it's leaving the members down underground without supplies when the elders could help?"

"The members of the Alliance are faithful and are here by choice!" Pete said.

"Well, maybe I'm not here by choice."

There was a stony silence between the two of them.

"Look, Chris. The massacre…it instilled a lot of anger in witches like you and me."

"You and I are not alike in any way," Chris interrupted. "I'm sure of that now. But go on with your explanation. I want to hear this."

Pete shook with rage. "I feared that this day may come, when you'd turn against us. I just didn't think you'd—oh, never mind. Chris, after the massacre, witches realized that it was simply too unsafe for mortals to be dominant. We knew that it was our right, as the magically gifted, to be superior to them."

"So this is all about power?" Chris shot at him.

"No, it's not power. It's our right."

"We have no such rights. Mortals are people, too. They just didn't understand—"

"Oh, really? They didn't understand, so they killed hundreds of witches?" Pete scoffed. "You, most of all, should understand, with your parents dead and everything."

"What are you planning to do?"

Pete cleared his throat, grinning a bit at the sides of his mouth. "We're planning to emerge in several months when we're powerful enough as a whole to dominate over the mortals. We'll finally get the respect we deserve; we'll never have to live in hiding again." The dark holes of Pete's eyes sparkled with greed. "We will make the rules for once."

"That's sick," said Chris.

"They're sick!" Pete challenged. "Remember, Chris. They killed your family, wiped out your memory, drove you here to the Alliance underground for all these years."

"No," Chris whispered. "No, they didn't. You did."

He turned his back on Pete and ran out the door, slamming it loudly behind him. He ran down the hall, running into several people who cussed loudly at him, but he didn't care. He had to get out of here.

Desperately, he reached the hatch leading to the outside world and wrenched it open. The light was not so blinding this time—yes, he was finally seeing the light of all this darkness. He knew what was right and what was wrong. For once, something seemed clear to him. Wyatt killed Cassandra to stop the Alliance. Chris would have to forgive Wyatt for his mistake.

Wyatt had to trust Chris now, because Chris was probably they're last hope.

He had to hurry and warn the Halliwells.

Oooo, plot twists...MWAHAHAHAHA. Review, plz! Will accept flames (but only send them if your willing to make a small girl CRY! WAHHHHH lol kidding) THANKS FOR ALL THE REVIEWS I LOVE YOU PEOPLES!