Neurotic


Disclaimer: Charmed does not belong to me.

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

This chapter is dedicated to: Stony Angel, Mellaithwen and Teal-Lover. :)


Chapter the Forty-Sixth

"Accident"


They were falling.

Paul felt his lungs constrict painfully, but couldn't see anything, could only feel a crushing pain against his chest. He could feel his eyes were open, but the darkness was pushing against his eyes too. He tried to Orb, but couldn't, and fear clawed at him – the Void. They were in the Void.

He kicked out, but there wasn't anything to kick out against, and then a sudden flare of light almost blinded him. He closed his eyes against the flare of blue light, and then slowly opened them.

Somehow, Chris had managed to put up a silence barrier around himself. Paul twitched his hand, but couldn't manage it, so he stared at Chris as they continued to fall hard. Paul gestured at Chris, but Chris had shut his eyes, and was mumbling something under his breath, and then the pain, the crushing, felt so intense and then-

WHAM!

It felt like the floor had dropped beneath Paul, although he knew there'd been nothing underneath him, but that's the only way he could explain the sensation just before there was a floor beneath him.

"Ow!" Paul rubbed his bottom as he blindly clambered to his feet, light bursting through his closed eyes, red and pink and dazzling. He blinked rapidly, trying to get used to the presence of light after such extreme darkness, and a room swam slowly into focus in front of him.

Then a shadow of a figure moved in front of him.

Bewildered and frightened, Paul immediately lashed out to smack the figure, only for his arm to be gripped by something firm, and for a familiar chuckle to fill the room.

"You're such an idiot," Chris said, his voice tinged with a warmth Paul hadn't heard for a while.

"Am not," Paul said through clenched teeth, automatically. He blinked for a few moments more until the room became clear and he could see Chris' concerned face.

"Are you okay?" Chris said.

"Yeah," Paul said. "What was that? And how did you get us back?"

Chris inclined his head, and Paul looked to where his cousin was pointing. There was a large charred area on the floor. Paul recognised that they were back in Gideon's office, and the charred patch was where the chair had just been.

"I think," Chris said, his sea-like eyes flicking around the room quickly, with the grace of a soldier trained to look for danger, "that Gideon had locked the chair with a Void Extraction charm. I suppose anyone who used his name and the word 'evil' in the same sentence would be immediately transported to the Void."

Paul looked at Chris, upset, noticing Chris had avoided his second question. "So it was me that triggered it?"

"Isn't it always?" Chris said with a small grin. Paul sent a withering glance at him. "You weren't to know," Chris added quickly. "But it makes sense that he'd be able to do that. Transportation to other planes must be his magical niche. He must have been the one to get rid of Phoebe."

"You don't think Wy could have done it?" Paul said, folding his arms and looking nervously around the room, as if another object could be triggered by his words.

"Wy?" Chris smirked. "Why?"

"Why not," Paul said in return.

"But why?"

They laughed together for a second, and Paul watched Chris laughing, and wished suddenly, painfully, that none of this had happened. Seeing Chris so carefree, if only for a second, with the aid of an old joke the two used to share, really highlighted how old Chris had gotten in the last eight years. He'd had to grow up so fast…

"Wyatt was always better at getting people out of phase than in them," Chris said. "I suppose it's because that's what mom and dad made him practise the most – demons were always throwing the Charmed ones out of phase. We hardly ever needed to lock something away on a different plane."

"Except for Grandpa," Paul said.

Chris looked at Paul, a little shiftily. "Uh, we don't need to be telling him that in this time, though, do we?"

Paul snorted. "Why tell, when you can show?"

"Paul!"

Paul rolled his eyes. "Fine. I promise not to do anything of the sort." He stepped closer to Chris, putting a hand on Chris' elbow, looking him directly in the eyes. "I wouldn't. He meant a lot to me too, you know." Even though he wasn't technically my Grandfather.

Chris nodded, and then looked around the room again. "I don't think there's anything else in here that's spelled to take us to disaster," he said, "but I think we ought to get back to the manor and tell the family it's definitely him. Let's do it outside in case of any overlap charms designed to keep Whitelighters out."

Paul nodded in return; unconsciously shifting to mimic Chris' tense, alert poise as they walked out of the room. Never was Chris more graceful, or dangerous, than when on the hunt for something, and Paul knew from Chris' face that the hunt was definitely on.


"It seems so weird."

Paige looked up from the small cauldron, bubbling away under the heat of an old Bunsen burner they'd scavenged a few months ago from the local high school, and watched Dan as he sorted through all the potion ingredients, grouping them together based on Paige's handwritten lists. She'd gone through the Map and taken out all the remaining potions that needed to be made, and added some more of her favourite All-Purpose potions, and was making them all in the order Chris had formulated – the most efficient timing.

Paige had never considered how many Potions could be made all at once, if you did bits one after another, but had slightly quailed at the number of Potions she had on the go. Several burners were set up, and they were using every saucepan in the house – saucepans they obviously still had way in the future, as Chris had labelled each potion with each contained to be used.

Still with the amazingly efficient timings, though, she'd been at this for three hours, and was slightly sweating, which she hated. Perspiration made her feel wrong and dirty, and she longed for a shower, but knew she had to crack on with this. Time was of the essence.

"Paige?"

Paige blinked, and she shook her head, realising Dan had said something. "What's weird?"

"These ingredients," Dan said. "The first batch of potions had weird things, like those Chinese roots, but these are just… everyday household stuff. I mean, you could be baking cookies, and bam, accidentally have whipped up a vanquishing potion for-" he squinted at the paper on the table "-Ashmolean Zombies." He pulled a face at the name.

Paige nodded, and started to stir one of the potions in a flowery saucepan that had just started to bubble. "Yep. How do you think some of those herbs and spices got to be everyday household stuff? Your common, garden-variety house-witch would have them in stock. A lot of witches through the past were herbalists, who incorporated a little bit of magic into just a lot of common sense and knowledge of plants. The knowledge of plants, herbs and spices were usually passed down from generation to generation. Even if the magic wasn't passed down, the knowledge of herbs and spices was."

"And people would go to their witches for remedies for hurts," Dan said.

"Yeah, and take that knowledge, and pass it down to their children." She smiled down at the surface full of potions. "There's a little bit of magic in every household, if they only knew. My adoptive parents, for example, whenever I'd scrape my knee, my mom would put a bread poultice on it, and clear it right up. Part magical remedy, part household commonsense."

"It's still amazing. If only everyone had this knowledge, everybody could be able to make vanquishing potions. Help you in your struggle."

"Not really," Paige said. "We're fighting so that people don't have to know this danger exists. Some people just can't take the knowledge of demons; they just can't handle that world. And yes, they could technically mix together the lamb's blood and rosemary, or ginseng and lavender, but there has to be the intent. You have to want something specific to happen with your potion. And the universe has to need that something to happen, or it won't let the potion work."

"I couldn't handle this world." Dan's eyes were dark and he looked down, concentrating on pulverising some garlic bulbs with a pestle and mortar. "When Piper told me, I couldn't take it. I wished she'd never told me. And that feeling- I never want to feel like that coward again." He bashed at the garlic harder. "I won't."

Paige watched him sympathetically, his body tense, eyes dark, and she understood.

"Everything you've done since I've met you hasn't had a single hint of cowardice," she said. "Which is ridiculous."

His head flew up, and he looked hurt. "Ridi-"

"Nobody can be brave all the time," Paige said. "It's impossible. That's why it's the Power of Three. Sure, one of us could have been given all of the power, the responsibility. I'm sure of it. But I couldn't do it on my own – I need my sisters to lean on. Sometimes I'm brave for them, sure, but sometimes they're so brave for me, and I need that. We all need someone for support, and someone to support. Especially in our world."

Dan looked at her. "You always know the right thing to say, don't you?"

Paige winked. "Always. It's such a curse."

He rolled his eyes, and opened his mouth to say something when the door sprung open. Paul stood there, his eyes flickering nervously between the two of them.

"Paul," Paige greeted. "What's-"

A loud screeching whistle interrupted her, and she looked down at the source of the sound in confusion, but she wasn't fast enough to be able to move out of the way as one of the pans exploded, covering her in potion.

She let out a yell and fell backwards to the ground, clawing at her face, shrieking.

"PAIGE!" Paul and Dan ran forwards at the same time, ignoring the fact that they'd both shouted her name at the same time.

"It hurts," Paige managed, and Dan supported Paige's head as Paul put his hands over her, a small glow spluttering out of his hands. He moved his hands over her chest and head, where the potion had hit, and seconds later she was able to stop making a sound.

She pulled her hands away from her face. She felt horribly weak, and very dizzy.

"What was it?" Paul demanded. "Which potion exploded?"

He got up on his feet to go over to the table, and turned the gas off at the same time.

"The one in the green saucepan," Paige said. "It was the, uh-" She gasped and held her stomach, feeling sick. She gagged, but managed to stop herself from throwing up.

"What the hell is going on?" Chris demanded from the doorway. Paige could just about see him from the floor. He looked angry, until he saw her down, and then concern flooded his face. "What happened?"

"The green saucepan exploded," Paul said, urgently.

"The green saucepan," Chris echoed, his eyes travelling across the table, his brow furrowed. He turned to Paige, anger back on his face. "Why were you doing so many? The Map said a maximum of seven at once. You've got ten here."

Paige flinched from the anger in his voice, and tried to answer, wrestling the words out even as she felt more nauseous. "Thought I could handle a couple more," she said weakly, coughing, leaning into Dan as he held her, his eyes trained on her face with worry. "They were easy ones, I thought-"

"You thought wrong," Chris said, his voice harsh.

"Leave her alone!" Dan immediately defended, his voice strong. "She's trying her best, it was your potions and organisation, and your urgency! We probably won't even need this potions if I'm right, yet she felt she had to, just because you were so neurotic and thought it couldn't hurt. And it has."

Chris visibly sagged, and looked away, suddenly looking so defeated that Paige's heart leapt. "It was my fault," she said quickly. "I tried too much." She turned to Dan. "You said I was attempting too much. I should have-" She jerked spasmodically in Dan's arms, wincing from the pain and nausea. "I should have listened to you."

"What's wrong with her?" Dan demanded, looking up at Chris with hard eyes.

"Disintegration potion," Chris said, his eyes travelling over the table again with worry.

"Disintegration?" Dan's grip on Paige got harder as his voice rose angrily. "She's going to be disintegrated?"

Chris shook his head and looked at Paige instead, ignoring Dan. "How long had it been boiling?"

Paige thought, fighting past the feeling inside her, which made it feel like all her organs were compacting inwards. "Uh… ten minutes?"

Chris exhaled suddenly, and looked up at the ceiling. "Thank you," he breathed upwards, to no one in particular. He looked down at her, then looked at Dan. "Get her onto the couch," he said briskly, moving quickly to the ingredients table and grabbing two large bottles of mineral water.

Paige gasped as Dan bodily lifted her up, seemingly without any trouble, and laid her down gently on one of the soft couches. He knelt down beside her, his hand on her forehead, his eyes dark. "You're soaked with sweat," he whispered, and she whimpered, not wanting to hear anything like that.

Dan turned back to Chris as the young witch-whitelighter skittered across the room to them with the water.

"Get her to drink this," Chris said. "All of it. Paul-" He twisted his head. "Go downstairs. Find any and all water containers, jars, flasks, bottles – you name it. Fill them with water and bring it upstairs as fast as you can."

Paul nodded and orbed downstairs without comment.

Chris fumbled with the water briefly, then opened it, and passed the bottle to Dan. "She needs to drink this, and all of these, and fast." He looked at Paige directly. She looked back at him, her vision blurring, her eyes wide. "Don't be afraid if you need the toilet," Chris said, "just go where you are. I need you to do this, stay here, and drink anything and everything you're given."

Paige nodded, her insides burning, and started to drink the water Dan immediately put to her lips, her eyes burning too.

"Whatever Paul brings upstairs, make her drink," Chris said. He lifted up Paige's hands, and Dan looked at them briefly as he helped Paige drink the water. Her fingernails were all a centimetre longer than they had been. "She's completely dehydrated. The potion wasn't ready – it's aged her. Only by a month, considering the amount of fingernail growth, but that still means she's sixty litres of water down. The potion wasn't ready, so it'll take a while to take complete effect, but we need to get sixty litres of water into her, as quickly as possible."

Paul orbed into the attic, right next to the sofa, with a large eight pack of mineral water. "I'm getting it from P3," he said, and orbed off without response.

"What about food?" Dan said.

"I'll deal with that," Chris said, getting to his feet. "You keep getting water into her. Because if you don't," his eyes were harsh, "she'll die."

Dan nodded.

"And if she dies," another voice floated in, "it'd be such a great pity."

Chris turned on his heel, and stepped backwards automatically in horror.

Wyatt was leaning against the wall, his arms folded, his trademark sneer fully in place. He looked at Chris. "But I won't interfere, if you give me the Book of Words, right now."

Chris stared flatly back at him, hatred full on his face. "I can't," he said, his voice heavy and angry.

"Yes," Wyatt said smoothly, "you can. I was tracking it. You disappeared off this plane at the same time it disappeared, and vice versa. You have it, I know it. So give it to me, and Paige might just survive this."


T - 7