A/N: Thanks for the reviews! I'm glad everyone liked the last chapter of Breaking Point, and I'm glad everyone likes this so far. Hope you continue to!

Please enjoy and please review!

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When Piper awoke the next morning, she felt nauseous and out of sorts. Her stomach hurt and her throat was sore. She was cold, despite the eighty-degree heat outside. She made her way to the kitchen, where the smell of coffee made her want to vomit.

"Hey, sunshine," Phoebe said cheerfully.

"Coffee?" Prue asked.

"What's so sunny?" Piper grumbled. "And keep that coffee away from me."

"You okay?" Prue asked, frowning.

"Just nauseous," Piper grumbled again.

Prue felt Piper's forehead, just to be sure. "Piper, you're burning up."

"I'm fine." Piper grabbed up some toast, then stood. "I have to be at P3 for another delivery. We're opening in two days." She stalked out of the kitchen.

"Do you think she's okay?" Phoebe asked worriedly.

"No," Prue replied firmly, with no hesitation. She sat down beside Phoebe at the table. "She's been thinking about the Institution a lot the past few days. It's all she thinks about. That, and what she did to go there."

Phoebe nodded. "Do you think she's going into a relapse?"

Prue frowned, staring out the kitchen doorway. "I hope not."

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Piper wasn't sure how, but she managed to drive to P3 with no accidents, even though her vision kept blurring. She sat on a bar stool, a cool cloth against her forehead, waiting for her delivery. But her eyes began to droop and she fell asleep.

Piper walked down a hallway that seemed familiar, but she couldn't place it. It was dark and lonely. She wore a gown on her body.

"No," Piper whispered, her throat dry. "Not this place."

It was, indeed, the Los Angeles Psychiatric Institution. The place she had stayed for eight weeks. The place she feared above all others.

Out of nowhere, a man appeared before her. He had on a janitor's outfit with the name Brian embroidered on it in red letters. He grinned at her. Suddenly, she was pinned to the wall by his hand.

"No," Piper choked and spluttered.

"This should shut you up, you stupid witch," he snarled. He grabbed her wrists and exposed them, then drew out a long, sharp dagger.

"NO!" Piper cried louder, heart pounding extremely fast.

He grinned manically and slashed her across her wrists.

"NO!" Piper cried loudly.

"Ma'am?"

Shaky and sweaty, Piper snapped her eyes open. The deliveryman stood before her, looking as if he weren't sure whether to call for help or run.

Piper glanced at her wrists. They were scared, but no new cuts had appeared, no blood had been shed.

"Just a nightmare," Piper whispered, sighing with relief.

"Can you sign here, please, ma'am?" the deliveryman asked cautiously.

Piper nodded and sighed, then he nearly ran out of the club.

Piper got up to put the order of glasses away when she slid.

"Damn," Piper grumbled, looking down to see what she had slipped on.

Blood.

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"Paige where's that invoice?"

"It's on your desk, Mr. Cowan," Paige called.

She sighed and went back to typing her report. Midway through, her eyes began to droop and she fell into a light, uneasy sleep.

"So why the cutting?"

Paige stared at the shadowy figure of a teenaged girl. She couldn't see her face and knew not her name.

"It's just a way to act out, you know? They took away my drugs and my freedom and they don't believe a word I say. Plus life took away my parents. So it's just one thing I can do that no one knows – well, knew – about. Now that's even been taken from me."

"Paige?" the girl said.

"Yeah?"

"Promise me you'll stop cutting."

Paige nodded. "I promise."

The girl seemed to smile and leaned forward to hug her, then suddenly shifted into a man with brown hair. His name tag red Brian.

"Never make promises you can't keep," he said.

"What-" Paige asked, confused. Then a sharp pain made her gasp and look at her bloody, cut wrists.

"AHHH!" Paige screamed in terror.

"Paige!"

Paige's eyes snapped open. All of Bay View Social Services was staring at her, along with Mr. Cowan,

"Just a nightmare," Paige whispered, as the office slowly went back to its work. She sighed with relieve – until she noticed the blood dotting her desk.

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"It was a nightmare," Prue said. "But there was blood on the floor?"

Piper nodded. "Yes! And it felt so real. It took place at the institution."

Prue frowned with worry. Maybe Phoebe was right. Maybe Piper really was having a relapse.

"Let me see your arms," Prue said gently.

Piper's eyes widened. "What? Prue, I'm not cutting again! I told you, it was a nightmare. Maybe-maybe a demon's behind it or something. I don't know.?"

"Let me see," Prue insisted.

Piper stood angrily. "I'm not cutting. I can't believe you'd think I'd- I can't believe this. It was a nightmare! But if felt so real-" Piper paused. "Or maybe it wasn't a nightmare."

"But you just said-" Prue began, confused.

Piper felt lightheaded for a minute and stared into space.

Then she looked at Prue.

"Maybe it wasn't a nightmare. Maybe it was a memory."