Wow, the reviews broke a hundred! Thanks for all your wonderful reviews, which helped me write this quickly and get a new chapter up soon. Enjoy the next chapter!

Little Miss Spell-of-the-Week: Actually, Chris can be a murderer. Remember the sixth season's premiere Valhalla of the Dolls, where Chris kills three Valkaryies to get their pendants for the sisters? He is capable of being a murderer when he feels it is for "the greater good" or it's his last resort. When a person is upset or angry, they often say or do things that they don't mean. I also didn't want to ignore the darker aspects of Chris's personality. I'm glad you like the story and thanks for the review!

Serina Kat: Thanks for pointing out about the mistake about Vision Piper. It's a plot hole, but I think I was unconsciously trying to make it seem more un-vision quest like so the twist would be less obvious. I'll watch out for those, and please tell me if you catch any more. Thanks for reviewing!


"Chris, can you hand me the Murdock root?" Piper asked, not even bothering to look at her whitelighter, instead keeping her attention on the simmering potion and putting her arm out in Chris's direction, palm flat and waiting for him to give her the ingredient.

"Sure," Chris answered, sifting through the potion cupboard. "Uh . . . which ones' the Murdock root?"

Piper sighed exasperatedly and turned to Chris. "The one that looks like a root."

Chris bristled indignantly, his tone annoyed, "I know what a root looks like, Piper. But there are five different roots in here, and they all look the same. You should really label these bottles. It'd cause less confusion."

The matriarch ignored his comment and waved him aside, grabbing the correct root herself. Chris couldn't help it, but he found his eyes staring at Piper's stomach, at the baby inside, himself. This was just too weird.

"What are you looking at?" Piper's sharp voice snapped.

Chris blushed. "Nothing!"

Piper's eyes narrowed in irritation. "I have enough strangers reaching out to touch my stomach and staring at me. I don't need my whitelighter doing it too."

He had to struggle not to flinch at this unintentionally stinging comment. Chris was having a hard time dealing with the sisters' attitudes towards him, especially now that they knew he was family. He had seen how loving Piper could be, thanks to the vision quest. To be called a stranger by his own mother really hurt. All week he'd been longing to tell them the truth, thinking that it'd make things easier.

However, Chris had not told the sisters of his identity before losing his memory, so he knew that there must be a good reason why the sisters didn't know.

So for now, Chris will have to deal with the hostility.

"Chris, why don't you go help Phoebe upstairs?" Piper suggested, "I've got things under control here."

Nodding silently, Chris made his way up the stairs. As he walked along the corridor towards the attic, he felt a strong hand on his arm yanking him into a room.

"What the hell!" he snarled when he saw who the hand belonged to.

"Relax, Chris, I just want to talk," Leo reassured him calmly, although he took a couple steps back to give the seething whitelighter some breathing room.

Chris closed his eyes, trying to collect himself. He tried to put out of his mind the thought that Leo was his father. Now he had a good idea of why he hated Leo so much. Judging from the few memories he had, Leo was a neglectful father. Chris didn't know the whole story, but that's when he assumed happen.

When he opened his eyes, Chris saw his own eyes staring back at him, albeit blue irises instead of green. Unable to stand Leo's very presence, Chris quickly averted his eyes towards the window.

"Listen, I'm not going to leave until I get some answers, so don't try to talk your way out of it; it'll just waste your time and mine."

Chris shrugged, unconcerned. "I don't know what I can tell you. No memory, remember?"

Leo crossed his arms and leaned against the closed door, blocking Chris's escape. "Oh, I think you'd remember this."

The whitelighter in question unconsciously crossed his arms in defense, his stance uncannily like Leo's. Shrugging, Chris tried to keep the dread out of his voice. "Remember what?"

"You've been acting weird all week." Leo observed instead of answering Chris's question. Chris really wanted to strangle the man, but kept his glare determinedly set on the billowing tree branch outside of the window. "Chris, Chris, look at me."

Reluctantly, Chris met Leo's eyes, infuriated that he was treating him like a child. "Just get to your point!" Chris snapped harshly.

"Fine," Leo replied calmly, "What I'm trying to say is that ever since the vision quest, you've been more on edge, more nervous. What did you see that's shaken you like that?"

Chris stiffened, knowing he couldn't tell Leo that he was his son. "I don't see how it's any of your business."

In the blink of an eye, Leo had glided across the room to stand in front of Chris, "If whatever you saw endangers my family, then it becomes my business."

I am your family. Chris thought bitterly.

"It won't endanger your family, trust me." Chris replied coolly.

Leo narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "Trust you? Sorry, that's not a good enough reason."

Chris bit his lip, knowing that Leo wasn't going to let him go. Finally, after some inner debating, he decided to tell Leo the truth.

Taking a deep breath, Chris told him, "I found out who I am, and who my parents are."

A Halliwell. Yours and Piper's child.

Leo's eyebrows rose. "Who are they?"

Remembering Wyatt's remark in the vision quest, Chris spat sarcastically, "Why do you want to know? What, you going to stop my mom from pushing?"

"No! Elders are pacifists! I would never do that!" Even if it was you, Leo thought as an afterthought. He looked outraged at the very suggestion, and he was.

Chris was starting to take pleasure in annoying Leo. He decided to take the mocking one step further. "Pacifist, huh? You know, I wouldn't think so, especially when you were waving that Valkarie sword in my face."

Suddenly, Chris found himself pinned up against the wall, Leo's hand holding a strong grip on Chris's throat. Chris found himself strangely calm in the face of Leo's angrily contorted expression.

"I knew it!" Leo snarled, all patience gone from his voice, "I knew you've been lying about losing your memory!"

Chris kneed Leo in the abdomen, causing the older man to release his grip on Chris and recoil, backing away from the whitelighter. "No, you idiot, I knew about that because it's one of the few memories I've recovered. And –are you even listening to me?"

Leo was looking away from Chris, up at the ceiling, his fierce gaze no longer on the whitelighter.

"Wyatt." Leo muttered, his eyebrows scrunched together in worry. Without saying a word to Chris, Leo orbed out, leaving Chris standing there alone and feeling abandoned.

Chris was excited. He was going to spend some quality time with Dad for the first time in a really long time. They were going to a basketball game, to watch the San Francisco Giants play the Seattle Mariners.

He quickly fished through all the junk in his closet, searching for his baseball hat and mitt. You never know when a home run could be coming your way, after all. Chris looked up and found his baseball mitt high up on top of his closet, beyond his reach. Knowing that his mother was out grocery shopping, Chris called for someone else.

"Aunt Paige!" he called. After a beat, chiming filled the air and his youngest aunt materialized.

"Yeah, Chris?" Aunt Paige asked. She was dressed in her magic school robes and had a red pen and a piece of paper in her hand, so Chris assumed she had been grading papers.

"Sorry to bother you," Chris apologized.

Aunt Paige smiled at him warmly. "No, it's okay. Did you need something? 'Cause I've got to get back to grading papers or you students are going to give me grief tomorrow." Aunt Paige absently raised the paper higher, pointing at it. Chris noticed the familiar scrawl at the top of the paper: Christopher Halliwell.

"Aunt Paige, is that my test?" Chris asked innocently.

"Huh?" His aunt looked back at the paper and quickly flipped it over. "No, of course not."

Chris gave her his best pout. "Can you tell me what I got, please?"

Aunt Paige waved her finger at him, mock scolding, "Now that wouldn't be fair to my other students, would it?"

He just continued pouting.

"Don't try that on me, mister! That may work on Phoebe, but not on me!"

"I promise I won't tell anybody that you told me!" Chris pressed further, his lips now hurting from pouting so much.

Aunt Paige frowned. "No, and that's final. After all, I can't give you special treatment just because you're my nephew, can I?"

Chris looked at her in confusion. "Yes, you can,"

"I spoil you enough at home," Aunt Paige pointed out, affectionally patting Chris's head, smirking when she saw Chris scrunch up his nose like she knew he would. He hated it when people did that. "Now, what did you call me for?"

Chris gave up trying to get his aunt to show her his test score, so he pointed up at his baseball mitt. "Can you get it for me? I can't reach."

Aunt Paige obliged, handing hand-me-down mitt that used to belong to Wyatt to its current owner. "Where are you going with that, anyway?"

A huge smile lit Chris's face as he happily explained, "Dad's taking me to a baseball game!"

Matching Chris's smile, Aunt Paige dared to ruffle Chris's dark locks again as she said, "Good, that's great that you guys are spending more time together." Suddenly, Aunt Paige paused and seemed to be listening to something. "Oh, sorry Chris, I've got to go, a student's calling me." With one more smile at her nephew, Aunt Paige disappeared in a whirl of blue lights.

Chris put his baseball cap on, slid the slightly scratched leather of the baseball mitt through his hand, and made his way to the living room, where he would wait for Dad. As he walked down the stairs, he inhaled the familiar scent of chocolate chip cookies. An eager smile bursting on his face, Chris practically ran towards the kitchen, where he found a mound of grocery bags on the table and a plate of freshly baked cookies on the table.

He stealthily looked around for his mother, and when he didn't see her, telekinetically zoomed a cookie into his hand, from which a familiar hand promptly grabbed the stolen cookie out of his hand.

"Mom!" Chris whined. "Can't I have just one?"

Mom shook her head. "Wait until your father gets here. Then you can eat the cookies together."

"Fine." Chris pouted, settling himself on a seat in direct view of the cookies, presently content with just smelling the scent of cookies in the air.

He turned around quickly when he heard the sound of orbs, and his father arrived.

"Daddy!" he shouted, running up to hug his father, who returned the tight embrace.

"Hey! How's my little boy?" Dad asked, releasing Chris, "And is that cookies I smell?"

Mom chuckled from the corner of the room, where she was watching father and son. "I swear, Leo, they both get their obsession of cookies from you."

"Or from you, since you make them," Dad teased back.

Chris looked at his mother. "Can I eat one now?"

At Piper's nod, Chris eagerly rushed over to grab a cookie for himself, paused, and then grabbed one more for his dad. Dad smiled in thanks at the cookie, then took a giant bite into the treat.

"Let's go!" Chris said impatiently, tugging at Dad's plaid shirt.

"Okay, Chris, we're goi –" Dad paused and tilted his head slightly to one side, listening to something.

Mom sounded concerned. "Leo, what is it?"

Dad turned to Mom with a regretful expression. "The Elders are calling me,"

"What?" Mom snarled, uncrossing her arms, "But you just came from there!"

"I know," Dad looked pained, "But it sounds really important and urgent."

Mom didn't look happy. "Leo, your son is important to, especially after you missed his birthday! You promised him, Leo!" Chris flinched at his Mom's harsh words, a tight knot appearing in his stomach as he remembered that birthday, where he'd received another card. This baseball game was supposed to make up for that missed birthday.

Suddenly, Mom was up in Dad's face, holding on to his shirt collar menacingly. She was whispering quietly to Dad, but Chris could hear. "You never cancel on Wyatt, and you sure as hell are not going to cancel on Chris!"

Dad really looked miserable. "I know, and I'm sorry, but this sounds like a really bad crisis."

Sighing, and looking defeated, Mom released her husband.

"It's okay," Chris's small voice said quietly, "Dad's job is important."

Mom leaned down and held Chris's shoulders. "Are you sure, Chris?"

Chris nodded. Dad squeezed Chris's shoulder and said, "I'm sorry, Chris; I'll make it up to you, I swear." With those last words, he orbed out back to his important job.

The small boy had been holding his tears in before, but he let them fall now. He angrily threw his baseball mitt skidding across the kitchen floor, the only outburst he allowed himself to show. Chris knew how upset his Mom got when his Dad bailed on him, and didn't want to make her more distressed.

Mom hugged him tightly, attempting to comfort the boy, "It's okay, baby, he'll keep his promise."

Chris nodded, but only for his mother's sake. Deep inside, he knew that Dad would never keep his promises and that he had been abandoned by his own father.

Blinking away the unshed tears that the memory had brought into his eyes, Chris orbed up to the attic to see what Leo looked so worried about. He arrived to see utter chaos. Leo was clutching Wyatt tightly, hidden behind one of the sofas. Chris noticed Phoebe throwing various potions from her hiding spot, to no avail.

The demon in question, who looked humanoid save for the yellow eyes and disfigured face, looked strangely familiar. Without even thinking about it, Chris gestured with his hand and sent the demon flying into the wall, using the other hand to send a broken piece of wood soaring into the demon's chest, causing it to scream in agony and disappear into ash.

"Thanks," Phoebe said, walking over to Chris, "I guess it's pretty convenient to another person with offensive powers around."

Chris shrugged. "I guess."

Phoebe gave him an implying look. "Hey, you didn't find out if you had any more powers from your vision quest, did you?"

His expression quickly shifting to the cold, emotionless mask Phoebe was so used to seeing before the amnesia. It looks like Chris was starting to revert to the person he was before.

Chris was severely annoyed. God, he bet Leo probably put Phoebe up to goading him about the vision quest too! He really could not stand the Halliwell family at the moment.

Phoebe pouted. "C'mon, Chris, you can tell me! I promise I can keep a secret!"

Instinctively snorting at this comment, Chris scrunched up his nose in confusion. How did he know that Phoebe couldn't keep a secret for her life?

"Please, please, please?"

"What are you, a five year old?" Chris asked. He laughed as he informed her, "You're giving me a Halliwell Headache."

Wyatt was prodding Chris about his first date. "C'mon, how was it? Did you kiss her goodnight?"

Chris's face was flushed red in embarrassment. "Not any of your business," he muttered.

"Chris, I'm your big brother, and had to put up with you for thirteen years. I think I at least deserve a play-by-play."

"Oh, you had to put up with me?" Chris retorted sarcastically.

Wyatt grinned mischievously. "Chriiiiiiissss." He drawled.

Chris dramatically covered his ears with his hands, groaning, "Wyatt, shut up! You're giving me a Halliwell Headache!"

"Did you just make that up?" Wyatt asked, testing the phrase on his tongue.

Chris's grin matched his brothers. "Uh . . . yeah, actually."

"Nice," Wyatt commented, "Halliwell Headache. Hmm. I can think of plenty of times where I could have used it on you."

"Right back at you," Chris teased. "But your voice is giving me a Halliwell Headache. It's just so scratchy and ugly . . ."

Wyatt snorted. "Your hair gives me and Mom a Halliwell Headache. She's been after you for a long time to cut your hair. We aren't in the twentieth century, you know!"

Chris stuck out his tongue at his brother and whispered, "Halliwell Migraine!"

"No, it doesn't sound as good. Sorry, little brother."

A brief flash of horror at his unintentional slip up crossed Chris's face as he stuttered in attempts to cover up his mistake. "Um, I mean, well, that you are a Halliwell that's giving me, a non-Halliwell a headache. Uh, I've got to go!" With that, Chris orbed out.

Phoebe glanced at Leo through the corner of her eye. "What was that all about?"

Leo shrugged, also confused, and shifted Wyatt into a more comfortable position. "I have no idea."


Chris breathed a sigh of relief when he found himself back at P3. That was close. He walked out into the empty club, settling himself near the bar and resting his head on the table. He felt someone poking at the back of his neck, causing his head to jerk up suddenly. He stared into the eyes of Peter the bartender.

"Change into who you really are," Chris growled, refusing to show any signs of weakness, especially when spikes of fear were crawling up his back.

Peter looked surprised for a second, before black lights surrounded him and he became Wyatt. "So . . . you've figured it out, huh? Took you long enough,"

"Shut up," Chris snapped, his voice hostile as the image of him plunging Excalibur into Wyatt's heart replayed in his mind again.

Chris could have sworn Wyatt's eyes glittered black for a second, as if he could see into his little brother's thoughts. He noticed subtle differences now between the bartender that patiently listened to him, and the man who stood before him now, who by appearance alone should be more comforting than the stranger Peter. But Wyatt seemed to have transformed into a different person. All the kindness that Chris had originally seen in Peter's eyes were gone now, the shine nonexistent. Chris gathered all the courage he could muster to stare into those dull blue eyes, so changed from the bright orbs that occupied baby Wyatt.

Before he had more time to reflect on this, Wyatt reached out and grabbed Chris's shirt collar, yanking him closer, his dark eyes boring into Chris's, piercing into his soul. Chris felt coldness freeze his spine, fear chilling his brain into inaction.

"Well, Chris, I think you've caused enough trouble. You may not remember, but I remember all that you've done. You will pay for your betrayal, little brother."

Chris opened his mouth and tried to say something, anything. The words were stuck in his throat, trying to claw their way out to no avail.

Wyatt smirked at his futile attempt. "Don't worry, though, Chris; in good time, your family will reject you, just like they did in the future."

Eyes narrowed in disbelief as Chris found his voice. "You're lying." Wyatt had to be. He had flashbacks where he had a family who loved him. Well, except Leo, he thought bitterly.

"No. I'm not." Wyatt said, conviction in his voice. He leaned in closer to Chris, smiling wryly, "By the way . . . this is only a taste of what I'll do to you for giving me a Halliwell Headache." He released his grip on Chris and let him absorb this information, pleased with himself. Of course, he'd never kill his own brother; he just wanted to break him down, make him vulnerable in order to make Chris see the light, and drop those fictional ideals of good and evil.

Chris felt anger coursing through his veins, anger similar to what he felt during the vision quest. Once again, Chris wondered why he risked everything to save his monster of a brother. The future couldn't possibly be that bad, could it?

Lashing out with a growl of frustration, Chris swung his fist towards Wyatt, who only laughed as the fist went right through him. Chris stared at his hand, bewildered and panicking as he wondered if he was still in the vision quest. God, those things can be tricky.

"Astral Projection, little brother. Another little power I picked up." Wyatt explained, making a show of looking at his watch to check the time, "Oh, sorry to cut this reunion short, but I've got some business to attend to. See you later." Wyatt's image fizzled for a second, and then vanished.

Chris slammed his fists onto the table, numbly watching blood flow from a cut on his hand, and held his head in his hands, feeling more lost than ever.