Thanks for the reviews! Happy Easter, enjoy the extra long chapter!


"Chris!"

Piper paused for a moment, giving the whitelighter time to make his appearance. Tapping her foot impatiently on the hardwood floor of the attic, she called him again, this time with obvious irritation.

"Chris!"

He finally orbed in, slowly and reluctantly. Once his orbs fully materialized into his form, Chris stumbled and fell to the side, almost crashing into the table and knocking down Piper's newly made potions.

Scolding Chris with a glare, Piper grabbed onto his arm and helped to pick him up. "Why didn't you come before?"

Feeling slightly lightheaded, Chris took a few seconds for the nausea to subside before answering coolly, "Didn't hear you."

"You put me on mute?" Piper demanded incredulously, her hands now planted firmly on her hips.

Chris blinked, surprised, an inspired smile curling on his lips. "I can put you on mute?"

Piper smirked triumphantly. "So you did hear me!"

"Yeah, well . . ." Chris trailed off sheepishly, shuffling his feet in embarrassment. He frowned and changed the subject. "Are you always this impatient and bossy?"

"Eh, blame the hormones."

Smiling despite himself, Chris gestured to the vials on the table. "What are those for?"

"Those," Piper began, shoving a vial into his hand, "are potions. For whatever demon is after you."

Chris shifted his feet, looking slightly uncomfortable. "You . . . want me to fight a demon? Aren't I an angel? And aren't angels supposed to be pacifists or something?"

"No!" Piper wrinkled her nose, "Not fight, just throw. Throwing a potion isn't that hard. But I also need to you grab Phoebe and Paige. I called their cell phones, but neither of them have been picking up. Can you get them?" Before Chris could utter a word of confirmation, the eldest Halliwell sister turned her back to him and started to pen out a spell.

Chris stood there, confused, his eyes glancing around the room, inhaling the nice, familiar wooden smell of the attic, watching the sunlight shining through the stained glass window, all the while musing on how peaceful this attic made him feel, despite all the constant demon attacks and the confusion of not knowing his identity.

His musings were interrupted by Piper's sharp voice. "You're still here?"

"How do I know where they are?" Chris asked as realization dawned on Piper's face.

Smiling apologetically, Piper replied, "Sorry, I forgot that you don't remember. Um, I guess you could just sense them."

"How?"

Piper shrugged. "I don't know. Concentrate on them, maybe? Ask Leo, he knows how." She stopped rigidly, suddenly realizing what she'd just said. "I'm sorry, Chris!"

"It's fine," Chris said stiffly, his green eyes hardening at the mention of Leo's name. Trying to distract himself, he decided to try and concentrate on locating Phoebe and Paige. Scrunching his nose and eyebrows together, he concentrated hard on the two, thinking of their faces and names until they became clear pictures in his mind.

"You got it?" Piper asked gently, attempting to make up for her slip a minute before.

Chris nodded uncertainly. "I think so . . . how do I get there?"

Piper hesitated, her lips pursed in thought. She didn't know; she wasn't a whitelighter. The only advice she had for Chris was, "Wing it."

That really doesn't help. Chris thought dryly, but decided to try it out. He orbed, concentrating hard to Paige, and felt himself pulled in her direction.

When he arrived at Paige's location, Chris thought his eyesight had gone hazy for a moment before he realized that the windows were closed, and the curtains draped. His eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness, he was able to make out two figures moving rapidly in what looked like a King's size bed.

"Oh god," he exclaimed in disgust, "I really don't need to see this."

Paige's head shot up suddenly, staring in shock at Chris. "Wh–A–What are you doing here?"

"Piper told me to get you." Chris explained, his face still scrunched up in revulsion.

Sinking under the covers in embarrassment, Paige managed to stutter, "Go. I'll orb myself."

Chris nodded rapidly, agreeing wholeheartedly with this plan before orbing out to get Phoebe.

Paige glanced over mournfully at Richard. "Sorry,"

"It's alright. Go to your sisters." Richard encouraged with a warm smile, hiding the disappointment from his face.

"Thanks," Paige said before giving him a last kiss.

Meanwhile, Chris orbed in search of Phoebe, only to find her immersed in her work at the office.

"Phoebe!" he called. She raised a pointed finger at him, telling him to wait, before typing out the final sentence of her column.

Taking off her glasses, she looked up at the whitelighter in concern. "What is it, Chris? Is something wrong?"

Phoebe had done her best to try and be kind to the whitelighter in light of him losing his memory and getting the crap kicked out of him by Leo.

She could have smacked herself. "Getting the crap kicked out of him by Leo."What kind of thinking was that? She hated how cruel and unconcerned she had just sounded. It's just that she was so stressed lately, with breaking up with Jason, to Chris losing his memory, to protecting Wyatt, and Leo's behavior, as well as her work as an advice columnist.

"Piper's going to kill a demon." Chris informed her briskly, although Phoebe did catch that slightly uncertain tone when he had said "demon". It looks like, despite everything he's seen, Chris was still wary of them. Not that Phoebe could blame him.

"Vanquish."

Chris looked up at her, confused. "What?"

"Vanquish a demon. Gotta get the vocabulary right, right?" Phoebe said brightly, sounding far too cheerful. Chris just continued to stare at her, his eyes haunted. "You ready?"

Sighing loudly, Phoebe gave up. "Yeah. Just let me get this out to Elise."

Chris nodded and sat down on the couch in her office, waiting for Phoebe to come back. When she did, they orbed out together.

"All right, let's get this show on the road," Piper said briskly, slapping Paige's arm, who flinched at suddenly being woken up.

"I was sleeping." Paige moaned, resting her head back on the table.

Piper frowned at her youngest sister. "And why are you so tired?"

"You don't wanna know," Both Paige and Chris replied, only to shoot embarrassed looks at each other. Chris couldn't help but wonder if this is the kind of stuff that he has to deal with every day. No wonder he was so neurotic.

Chris tried to regain his ground, neutralizing his expression and asking, "So . . . how do you, uh, vanquish demons?" he asked, sending a significant glance at Phoebe, who gave him a thumbs up.

"Oh, there are a lot of ways," Piper replied idly, handing out potions to her sisters.

Paige looked up, counting the possible ways off on her fingers. "There are potions, spells, swords, athames, beheading, witch powers, and stuff."

"Right." Chris said uncertainty, clutching the potion in his hand even more tightly. It seemed to him that this little frail vial was the only barrier between him and a very painful death. Wait, he forgot. Chris was already dead.

This is driving me crazy . . .

Piper smiled sympathetically at the whitelighter, even though she couldn't help but feel a distinct guilty pleasure of them being the one holding all the cards and him being the confused one left in the dark for once.

"This message," Piper explained, pointing to the letter "was written in blood. We can use it to scry and summon the demon that wrote it. Granted, it could be a trap, which is why we are prepared for anything."

But Phoebe didn't look so sure. "Shouldn't we find out more about this demon before summoning it?"

Piper hesitated for a moment, a flash of uncertainty in her eyes. "Yeah . . . but the only way we'll know more about the demon is if it attacks again, and I don't think we can risk that. We might as well get rid of him now."

The two younger sisters glanced at each other and shrugged.

"We could also capture him and question him," Chris suggested, trying to sound helpful.

"Good idea," Paige nodded "Let's go with that."

Handing her sisters the spells Piper had been working on; she gave them some time to look it over. Noticing Chris's nervous shuffling, she strode over to him. "You okay?"

"You've got them here now, right? So you don't need me anymore . . ." Chris trailed off, starting his retreat down the stairs.

"Hold on, mister," Piper snapped, grabbing the back of his shirt, "You never had any problem sending us on demon hunts, so you're sure as hell are going to be here for the vanquish of the demon who is after you."

Chris rolled his eyes, hiding his fear with deep edged sarcasm. "Yes mother." He blinked, confused. It had come out so easily and fluently. The sisters must have been right; he was a neurotic, sarcastic whitelighter.

"All right, people, let's go,"

Holding onto the bloody message with one hand, and the summoning spell in the other, the Charmed Ones began to chant:

Demon with origins and motives not yet come to light
Come hither so that we can fight
By our word, by our spell
Slither out of your hiding place in hell

"Not bad," Phoebe critiqued, "But the last couple lines didn't really flow well. And you should invoke the Power of Three, just in case it's an upper level demon–"

"Don't need complaining right now, thank you very much," Piper interrupted through clenched teeth.

Phoebe didn't have time to shoot back a retort, for a demon came twisting and moaning from the depths.

First, the eldest Halliwell sister tried to blow the demon up, merely sending him backwards into the wall.

"Damn, there's another dent," Paige mumbled, throwing her potions at him in rapid succession.

"It's not working Piper!" Phoebe called out.

After she had run out of potions, Paige called out, "Crystals!" which orbed out in blue sparkles from the trunk and into the air around them. "Circle!"

The crystals positioned themselves around the demon, trapping him in a void of Good magic.

"Let's start with the basics," Paige began, staring the demon right in the eye, her posture and smile confident, "Who the hell are you?"

The demon glared at them. "Shouldn't you know? You summoned me, after all." He surveyed his surroundings, his black eyes resting on Chris.

He smirked. "Having fun, Christopher?"

Chris involuntarily recoiled two steps backwards, shocked at the familiarity the demon was presenting him.

"Do you know him?" Paige asked, her eyes locked on the whitelighter's, which were clouded with confusion.

He turned to his charge, shaking his head vigorously. "I don't–I don't know."

The demon merely smiled. "Don't you remember?" he taunted Chris, his coal black eyes flashing ominously.

'Remember the day she died?'

Chris jerked involuntarily. The demon's voice boomed in his head, sharper and clearer than if he was speaking to him with his voice.

Suddenly, as the demon's cold eyes burned into his, Chris could almost feel himself shrinking in his fiery gaze, a familiar chill of fear creeping up his spine.

He remembered.

This time, the memory was hazy and blurred, unlike his previous flashbacks. Spots of darkness intertwined with light, the grey, still world shattered with the strangely loud and shrill sound of a door hinge bending.

A small figure was thrown in, a teenage girl. Chris, though surprised at the suddenness of it all, caught her. He was shocked to see the black eye, swollen shut, and the bruises on her skinny frame.

Chris's exhaustion evaporated instantly, replaced with a fierce rage for the one who had done this to his youngest cousin.

"Penelope," he whispered, "Pen. Wake up."

She opened one eye reluctantly, as if afraid of what she'd see.

"C-Chris?"

"Yeah."

But before he could offer comforting words, anything, the door swung open even wider, but the figure remained in the shadows, cloaked by the haze.

"I'm sorry Chris," the male voice said, sarcasm dripping in every syllable spoken. Chris couldn't see the man's eyes, but he could feel the man's heated gaze on him, "The girl's been far too much trouble for my Master. See, demons are talking. We can't have them thinking my Master weak and forgiving, can we? Think of it this way; she brought it on herself by defying him. Unfortunately, I'll have to make her death slow, but at least she'll end up being with her dead mother . . ."

Chris's green eyes blazed in anger, now pushing Penelope protectively behind him. "What the hell are you talking about? You're not allowed to hurt us."

The shadows were still for a moment; not even a breath could be heard.

"This is an exception; at least, that's what my Master said." There was a pause, and Chris could almost feel the cruel smile that he was sure was making its way onto the man's face.

Before Chris could even flinch, he heard a faint choking sound behind him. Alarmed, he turned around sharply to see Penelope clutching at her throat, no audible sound coming from her. Her eyes bulged, and she was suddenly sent violently crashing back into the stone wall, bits of rubble crumbling down from the ceiling.

"NO!" Chris shouted, flinging his arm out at their captor. He stared at his hands uselessly when nothing happened.

"Your powers are bound, Christopher, you can't stop this."

But it didn't stop him from trying. Chris, the desire to save his cousin, an innocent, drove him to charge straight on at the man, only to be thrown into a wall with the flick of a finger.

"It's too late."

Chris scrambled over to his cousin, who was now slumped down against the wall, her eyes wide open, the shine gone from them, leaving nothing but the dull blankness of death.

"No . . . no . . . NO!" Chris sobbed, shaking Penelope fiercely, as if trying to shake her soul back into her body. Seeing his cousin dead . . . he couldn't believe it.

There was a chuckle in the doorway, a chuckle that progressed into a fit of sinister laughter, so cold and casual, as if Penelope's death meant nothing.

He stepped out of the shadows, and even though Chris's eyes were blurred with tears, he could see the figure clearly.

It was the demon with coal black eyes.

"No . . ." Chris muttered, holding his head in emotional and physical pain as the memory ended, still reeling from the heart breaking loss that still echoed in his heart.

The demon smirked, his own mind veering back to that sweet, satisfying moment in his demonic career. It was a major highpoint in the future; the killing of one of the most powerful creatures on the planet, a mixture of a whitelighter and a witch-whitelighter, although the girl was more angel than witch, given the fact that both of her parents had whitelighter blood in them.

He had to admit; he was surprised when Lord Wyatt gave him the order to kill his cousin. Wyatt had always been strict about not hurting any of his kin. Naturally, Lord Wyatt was the only one allowed to discipline his brother and cousins.

Lips curling cruelly, he reminisced back to when he had disciplined the girl. He was supposed to have made it quick and swift, but the demon simply could not resist the addicting fear in the girl's eyes, even taking the torture further than instructed . . .

And now he had been instructed to help deliver a message, written in his own blood, making him a clear target for the Charmed Ones.

It was his punishment for not stopping Christopher from escaping to the past, as well as for his disobedience in the girl's case. Lord Wyatt had been furious when he discovered what the demon had done to his cousin.

Ironic, really, since Wyatt had been the one who ordered her execution.

"Kill him, please." Chris hissed through clenched teeth, hatred blazing clearly in his green eyes. His balled fists shook with anger; it took every single shred of self control to prevent him from flinging himself onto the crystal barrier and tearing the demon apart with his bare hands.

Right now, his mind wasn't on the fact that in the memory he had powers, like a witch would.

"We have to find out what he knows, Chris, and why he's after you first." Phoebe said gently, putting a quelling hand on his shoulder, feeling the boy shaking underneath her fingertips.

That flashback must have had one hell of a punch.

"Not likely."

Their heads whipped around to the demon, who was chuckling darkly.

"I may be condemned, but I am sure as hell not going to be vanquished by the Charmed Ones." He raised his eyes to the heavens, shouting maniacally, "Do you see now? Do you see my loyalty? Damn it, I promise you, this mistake will be one of many! You'll regret this, the boy will be your downfall, and I'll watch your death and laugh from my personal suite in hell!"

Taking an athame out of his shoe, his eyes boring into Chris's, the demon plunged the athame into his chest, and the Charmed Ones could do nothing but watch as he laughed at the flames engulfing him, incinerating him slowly until he became nothing but a pile of ash.

"I've never seen a demon do that," Paige said, her voice strained from shock.

"Seen a demon do what?"

Piper turned around at the familiar voice and saw Leo standing in the doorway, a content Wyatt sucking on his thumb, leaning his golden haired head against his father's shoulder.

"What are you doing here?" Piper asked, glancing nervously at Chris, who had barely noticed Leo's arrival, still staring at the remaining ashes of the demon.

Leo shifted Wyatt into a more comfortable position first before explaining, "I heard Wyatt crying and nobody came to him, so I came."

"Oh," Piper exclaimed, feeling guilty. She had left the baby monitor downstairs in the kitchen and didn't take it up with her when she was bringing the potion ingredients up to the attic.

"So what happened?"

Paige took over the narration, explaining to Leo about summoning the demon, both the demon and Chris's weird behavior, and finally, the demon's suicide.

Leo had listened to Paige's story quietly, rocking Wyatt in his arms. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, and he glanced quickly over at Chris, still immobile.

"Look, you guys had better talk to him. Getting select memories like that, probably tragic or really affecting in some way . . . we can't have him distracted."

Piper frowned. "Why do I feel like you're using us to find out about Chris and who he was? Or his agenda or whatever?"

Leo shifted his feet guiltily, looking into his wife's eyes. "I just want to make sure the threat to Wyatt isn't someone close to us, that's all. And Chris does have a lot of secrets."

Piper sighed and absently rubbed her pregnant belly. "Okay. Could you put Wyatt back in the playpen?"

"Thanks Piper."

Looking at her sisters, she asked, "Okay, so which one of us is talking to him? Phoebe? You're the empath."

"Paige's the whitelighter." Phoebe shot back.

"Half whitelighter." Paige corrected. "I think Phoebe should do it. You're an advice columnist, this fits right into your shtick."

Piper smiled coyly. "Sorry Pheebs, two to one."

Phoebe scowled and mumbled something her sisters couldn't hear, but could probably guess what she was saying.

"Hey Chris," Phoebe greeted cautiously.

Chris's eyes flickered to meet hers for a split second, but other than that, he gave no acknowledgment.

"You know you can always talk to us, right?" Phoebe continued, "I mean, this is a lot to take in."

He looked down at his sneakers and didn't answer her. Phoebe waited, and he finally whispered to his shoes, "You wouldn't understand."

"Try me. 'Remember the day she died'? I know a lot about death. My mom died, my grams died, my sister died . . . there's been a lot of death in this family."

Chris sighed. He wanted to say something, he really did. It would take a whole load off of his shoulder, and it would be a sigh of relief. But he knew he couldn't. Something, some instinct imbedded inside of him, told him to keep this to himself.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, "I need to be alone,"

He orbed out, leaving Phoebe with no answers and even more questions.


The loud music was distracting, and that's exactly what he needed. Pushing his way past dancing bodies, Chris sat down at the bar of P3, watching everyone else's happiness, trying to forget his own troubles.

A blonde haired bartender finished cleaning the glasses before asking, "Do you want anything from the bar?"

Chris shook his head silently, staring again at the masses.

"Uh . . . are you okay?"

Reluctantly, Chris forced himself to meet the eyes of the nosy bartender.

"Yes." He answered calmly, if not a bit too forcefully.

Putting his hands up in mock surrender, the bartender admitted. "I'm a bit nosy. Sorry about that. I read somewhere that bartenders are supposed to be like therapists or something." He grinned in good humor, kindness sparkling in his eyes, "I guess it's not true, or you're having a really shitty day."

Chris was surprised at the forwardness and honesty of the bartender.

You don't see honest people that much in this world. Chris realized.

"I'm Peter, by the way."

"Chris."

A smile tugged at Chris's lips when he heard Peter's name.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. I just happen to know three sisters whose names all start with a P, so . . . oh god, I don't know why that's funny to me. Life is funny, I guess. And screwed."

Peter nodded his head, listening to this stranger, so young but so old at the same time, as if he was carrying the entire world on his shoulders.


"Uh, shouldn't we be trying to help the sisters restore their whitelighter's memory?" Sigmund asked, watching the Elder think out his next move.

Gideon shook his head, his head bent over some ancient volume.

"No. This is actually quite convenient, actually."

Sigmund opened his mouth to speak, closed it, then opened it again. He wasn't always this jittery around Gideon. But ever since he had first asked Sigmund for his help on his mission, Sigmund thought that the Elder had taken a radical, perhaps too radical, turn. Not that he'd ever say that to Gideon in person, lest he anger him enough to unleash his Elder powers on him.

Gideon always seemed to be on the breaking point lately. Despite the fact that Sigmund and Gideonwere old friends, Sigmund knew that Gideon was betraying Leo, another old friend by plotting to kill his son. He knew that Gideon, in his current state of mind, wouldn't hesistate to betray Sigmund as well if he felt it was for the greater good. Gideon looked so exhausted lately, using every moment of spare time trying to deflect the sisters from finding out that they were after Wyatt, and finding out a way to kill Wyatt.

Actually, Sigmund thought it was ironic, how the sisters were tired from trying to find out who turns Wyatt, and Gideon was exhausted from trying to figure out how to kill Wyatt. Personally, he found it immoral to kill a baby, but what could he say to Gideon?

It's for the Greater Good. After all, we know now that Wyatt's evil in the future, right? Sigmund reassured himself. He felt a little better now.

Just a little.

"Convenient how?"

Gideon looked up from his tomes, speaking as if it were obvious.

"The sisters will be far too busy trying to get their whitelighter's memories back to worry about us too much." Gideon paused, knowing this must have been some gift from the Powers that Be, proof that Gideon was meant to kill Wyatt, "The ideal window to get Wyatt is coming up soon; we just have to sit tight and wait for it to come."