"Someday when I ask you what it feels like to kill ... don't lie to me. Don't tell me you don't feel a thing."


Neurotic


Disclaimer: Charmed does not belong to me.

Summary: His name is not Chris Perry. It's Christopher. Christopher Halliwell.


Chapter the Fortieth

"Ashes"



Lynn made sure her athame was stashed where she could quickly get at it. Bending to her knees, she looked up at her small daughter. Bianca was looking at her with widened eyes, looking as cute as cute can be and swinging her chubby six-year old legs in complete incomprehension as to what was going on.

Reaching up her hand, Lynn tucked one of Bianca's soft brown locks behind her ear, and crinkled a smile at her baby girl.

"Bianca, baby, I won't be long. Mummy has a job to do and I'll be right back. You sit inside this car. And remember, if you see one of the bad people-"

"-duck and hide. If I can get out, run as fast as I can to one of the safe places. If they get close, kick them in the bad place and scream for one of the mortals passing by. Or shimmer away to the crypt if no one else is around." Bianca recited the instructions in a strident sing-song voice. Lynn beamed at her.

"Get in there," Lynn commanded softly, kissing her daughter's cheek and tracing one finger over her daughter's fire-red birthmark, the sign of their heritage. "I'll be right out, I promise."

Bianca smiled widely at her mother as Lynn closed the door on her, striding away purposefully, adjusting the amulet around her neck to make sure it was in place and brushing one hand impatiently through her cropped blonde locks as she walked into the entrance of the nightclub.

Her eyes grazed the sign "P3" almost clinically, smiling in grim satisfaction that she had found the right place. Mr. Wyatt had given her flawless directions. Lynn turned to check on her daughter, and felt that small rush of pride she always did when she caught sight of that happy, smiling face. Comforted, Lynn strode to the doorway and kicked the door open, unaware that that last glimpse of her daughter was the last one she would ever have.

All Lynn was currently aware of was the faint murmur of voices, and she hurried down the steps, blending into the shadows as she relied on her training to get her down into the club unnoticed.

She dodged back right into the darkest corner as she saw the back of someone's head. A dark-haired figure was moving into one of the side offices. Lynn reached out with her senses. There.

Confident now, she moved forwards to the office and listened in at the door.

"..lost so much time," a quite deep young male voice was saying. "The git bag knew just what he was doing, didn't he!"

"Yes," another voice said. "And we need to get mom and dad to remember as soon as possible, else... But one more important thing first. Did you manage to see if Phoebe was... was really dead?"

That's my cue!

Viciously Lynn kicked out, smashing the door in, powering up an energy ball as she leapt at the door. She let the energy ball rip as soon as the door opened, powering up several more in quick succession, slamming them into the room. She recognised the female as she dived over the desk, yanking a handsome man with her as she went, but Lynn wasn't too bothered about them.

It was the two younger men that were her quarry after all.

She kept the energy balls flying at the boys, and occasionally at the man and woman behind the desk to stop them from attacking. The older of her two targets, the pretty young man with brown hair slanting like curtains over blazing green eyes and with danger on his face, jerked his hand and some of her energy balls slammed back at her.

Telekinesis. Mr. Wyatt had warned her about that, and she retreated out of the office, still keeping up the barrage of energy balls as best as she could, slamming them into the small room one after the other. Cautiously she backed right up against the opposite wall, remembering one other thing: that three of them could orb.

However, even though she held that knowledge in the foreground of her mind, she was unprepared for all three to appear at once, so close to her. The darker-haired young man grabbed the arm she'd been sending energy balls with, and she yanked out the athame fluidly, only for the woman to bellow "athame!" The athame disappeared from her hand, and she gaped for a second.

It was the second that cost the battle for her.

The brown-haired man gestured, and her hands flew up, the back of her hands flat against the wall. He kept his hands tensed in the same position; he was using his telekinesis to restrain her. She marvelled for a moment at how much control he had over his powers for someone for so young, but the gravity of her situation struck her, and she glared instead of the brown-haired man. Chris Perry, Mr. Wyatt had called him, showing her a photo. The photo had been of a younger teenager, but this man in front of her was definitely Chris, albeit a grown up version. It was his eyes that gave him away, and the distinctive mole on his nose.

"What are you going to do with me?" Lynn asked brazenly when it appeared the witches weren't going to say anything.

"Who hired you?" Chris demanded, his voice cool and almost aloof.

Lynn smirked. "A phoenix never gives away their hirer's name."

Chris jerked his hand, and her cheek smashed against the wall.

"Chris!" The woman gasped, her eyes wide in horror, while the other one – he must be Paul – just looked resigned.

"Well, we could stand here and do this all day," Chris said evenly, his hand poised to hit her with his telekinesis again, "or I could go out and get your little girl and do it to her in front of you."

Lynn let out a strangled sound that came from the base of her throat.

"Bianca, isn't it?" Chris tilted his head. An angry flush covered his cheeks, and he looked incredibly pissed. "Brown hair, fondness for Frank Sinatra records, and strawberry jam and pickle sandwiches? She'd be about five now, wouldn't she?"

"Six," Lynn breathed out automatically, despair clutching at her heart. How did he know about her... unless he'd been watching them...

"In fact, I'd bet she's outside," Paul added, a malevolence to his tone, "probably sat in your SUV, waiting for you to kill us and then go back to her, maybe play a game, go to Burger King, and go home. Have a nice bedtime story, and then go to bed. Where she'd be all alone."

"To be honest, though, we know who hired you." Chris' eyes seemed to look past her into somewhere deep inside her, and she withered from the intensity of the stare. "Did he tell you I'm from the future? About twenty years."

"N-no"

"So is he," Chris said evenly, although his brow was a bit more creased and his breathing slightly laboured. "And in the future, I was there when he killed Bianca. A grown-up Bianca. The grown up Bianca you met several months ago. She came back to retrieve me, and when she failed, he killed her. Stabbed her through the heart, and then cut her head off-"

"Stop, stop it!" Lynn shrieked, the words burning and bruising her throat. "I can't bear it, I can't!" She remembered the loathing on that grown-up version of her daughter.

"So I think you're likely to co-operate with us and tell us exactly how Wyatt told you how to contact him when your job was done," Chris said levelly, danger giving his voice an edge like a newly sharpened blade. It cut heavily and swiftly through the atmosphere, piercing into their hearts with an inevitable dread. "I would hate to have to do the same to your young daughter. I would hate it more than you could ever understand. But I will not hesitate to do so if you don't tell us how to find him."

"She came to this time to get you, didn't she?"

"Yes. And Wyatt killed her for failing. I am sure he will do the same for you, too, unless we can stop him before he does."

"You're too late." Lynn smiled at him sardonically, hatred flashing in her eyes, the amulet flashing at her throat. Chris saw it, and took an involuntary step backwards.

"He's tied the success of this mission to your own life," Chris hissed out in disbelief.

Lynn smiled sardonically. "He gave me the choice to risk my life or Bianca's. But I intend to risk neither!" At that, she somehow found the strength and power to lunge forwards, trusting that Chris had been distracted enough not to hold her securely. She trusted correctly; Chris hadn't been concentrating enough to keep her trapped there, but at her brisk movement he reacted instinctively. He brought his arm up viciously, striking her against the wall. Her head smashed into the wall first, and she crumpled like a broken doll. Her eyes flickered, and then slid shut. A final groan issued from her throat, and it was all the warning they got before the amulet spluttered and engulfed Lynn in a dark crackle of energy. A dark shot of energy lanced through her heart, and she cried out before the energy completely engulfed her and she exploded in a howl of rage.

There was a stunned silence, and Chris found himself looking down at the remains in complete, final despair. I've changed so much here... Desperation and pain welled in his throat, and he sank to the floor, his fingertips touching where Lynn had lain in pain. This hadn't happened for several years. He'd just condemned Bianca to the life he'd known – a life without her mother.

He shook for a moment with silent tears that no one saw and that did not fall, before standing, resolutely dry eyed and tense with a fury. Paige and Dan remained silent, unnerved by this silently enraged Chris.

Chris clenched his fists uselessly, anger cooling his eyes into dangerous slits, and he probably would have done something rather rash, had it not been for the thin voice croaking: "Mama?"

Chris turned, and it was almost to him as if he were turning in slow motion. At the top of the stairs, looking small and vulnerable in the darkness, stood a small girl with long brown hair, a pretty blue dress, wide open brown eyes and a distinctive blood-red birthmark on her wrist. Bianca stumbled forwards with a soundless cry when she realised her mother was gone.

"Mama?"

Chris breathed out rapidly twice, looking to the ground and his mouth moving as if he was trying to say something, but no words were coming out. His back was tense, but when he looked up this time, his eyes shone with a desperate honesty.

He called out, "Bianca?"

The young girl blinked. "How did- how did you know my name?"

Chris shrugged, and spread his arms. "Didn't your mother ever tell you to run away if you were in the presence of dangerous strangers?"

"You would... hate to hurt me." Bianca's voice trembled a little, but she did not cry. Paige felt Dan come up behind her, and she grasped for his arm for a strength she could not find within her. At the touch of his hand on her she found the strength to remain standing, but not for much else. This girl had seen her own mother vanquished, and was still so strong.

"I would." Chris advanced to Bianca, and the small girl stepped down the stairs, meeting him near the bottom. She stayed up a few steps so she was almost as tall as him. He didn't explain if he meant he would hurt her, or he would hate to hurt her. Apparently he didn't have to. "I'm sorry."

"Wasn't your fault. It was the big nasty man's fault. Mr. Wyatt." Bianca's voice fell a little, but she remained strong. "I'll tell you where he is."

Chris felt a rush of triumph, but forced himself not to dwell in it for too long. Young Bianca had seen something she should never have had to see. "Why?" He almost stumbled when he felt her hand on his, small and pale and cold. He looked at her, startled.

"I trust you." Her voice wavered but her gaze did not. "I don't know why, but I do."

A small smile swept onto his face, but he still pulled his hand away. "I'm Chris Perry. Nice to meet you."

"Bianca Brooks," Bianca said, dropping a little curtsy. "Perry, what's going to happen to me?"

He didn't have the heart to correct her that his name was Chris, not Perry, and it didn't even occur to him to tell her his surname was Halliwell. Lying so much has really messed you up. "You don't have any other relatives, do you?"

Bianca shook her head. "Can I stay with you?"

Chris blinked at her request, and Paul started to laugh in the background. He shot an angry look at his brother, who suddenly developed a coughing fit. Chris almost felt vindictively pleased until he heard the word pervert floating out amongst the coughs. Another glare silenced Paul, and he turned back to Bianca, who was twisting her foot on the ground. "Uh, I don't think so," he muttered, going a little red. She looked disappointed. "I'll find you somewhere," he promised instead. "I'll find you someone amazing to live with."

"All right." Bianca seemed to think that was the end of the deal, and she skipped down the rest of the steps, and walked over to Paige. "I know you. You moved into the same building as us once."

"You've got a good memory," Paige marvelled. "Fancy using that memory to show us where Wyatt is?"

"Mr. Wyatt," Bianca corrected, but nodded. "Yes. He's living by the beach, in a house, with a pretty lady and a baby."

"A pretty lady and a baby?" Chris eyes widened, and he turned to Paul, who was nodding.

"The baby has to be baby Wyatt," Paul said smoothly, a small smirk quirking at the corner of his mouth.

"And?"

"And what?"

"The pretty lady," Chris ground out, frustrated. "Is it Phoebe?"

Paul looked at him, adopting a guileless expression. "How would I know? I haven't seen this pretty lady," he said. Chris clenched his fist and assumed his patented I'm-your-older-brother-and-I'm-going-to-smack-your-bitch-ass-down expression. "Of course, it very well could be. Providing he's put her back in phase with the rest of the world."

"No wonder you masqueraded really well as evil," Chris muttered, reaching out to smack Paul, who dodged nimbly out of the way.

"Wait, wait," Dan said quickly, looking between them all and looking baffled. "What have you just figured out?"

Paige looked at him with tears in her eyes and a smile on her face that answered his question for him, but she still spoke the words out loud as if she needed to hear them to believe them herself. "It means," she said simply, "that Phoebe is alive."


T-13