Neurotic


Disclaimer: Charmed does not belong to me.

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

Notes: In case you hadn't noticed, I'm back to posting daily, which will continue until June 9th, barring huge FFN/Internet failure. So by this time next week, 'Neurotic' should be over. See you at the finish line!


Chapter the Forty-Eighth

"Onslaught"


Wind whipped around them and long claws started snaking into the room, long claws attached to long, scaly bodies and ferocious red eyes and large black scaly wings.

"What the-" Leo yelled into the howling that seemed to bodily surround them. He dared to edge a look at Chris, and his stomach dropped even further, all the colour had drained out of his face. He was vaguely aware that Paige had managed to orb her and Dan out of the attic, Paul had grabbed at Cole and Victor and orbed them away, but Piper must have refused, because she was on her feet, hands outstretched, but somehow all he could look at was Chris' gaunt face.

"I can't believe it," Chris said, shouting above the howling. "He did a Calling! There's no way he could do that on his own."

"A Calling?" Piper yelled, her hands starting to twitch into action. Some of the winged things at the window exploded, causing more shards of timber and glass to fly into the room, but the ones that were gone were almost instantly replaced.

"A Calling," Chris said, his own body snapping into action as he started to use his power, squeezing the life out of them. "It calls any and all demons in the area to attack wherever they can sense magic."

There was a large explosion somewhere, and the house rocked.

"Any and all demons," Chris repeated, his eyes wide. "And because we have the greatest magic users in this house, they're attracted to us, like high powered magnets."

"Paige," Piper said, her expression mirroring her son's, eyes wide, skin pale.

"She'll get herself somewhere safe," Chris said. "I trust her. For now, we've got to keep fighting."

Leo's eyes narrowed, and he summoned an energy ball with one hand.

"You'll get in trouble for that," Chris yelled at him above the noise, gesturing and waving his arms around madly, trying to kill as many demons as he could, but they just kept coming, ripping past each other in their frenzy to get in. The house rocked again, and they tried not to think about what other demons were piling into the house.

"I don't care," Leo said, "my wife and son are in danger from demons. I can't stand by and do nothing." With that, he let the energy ball go, and it pummelled into the demons, doing a large amount of damage.

Still the demons fought, and the three battled side by side, getting wearier and wearier, until the demons started to get less and less, and Chris inextricably stood back, breathing hard.

"I can stop them," he said, and dropped to his knees. Leo was about to run to his side, when a silence barrier crackled around him, and he had to turn his attention back to the demons. He didn't know what Chris must have done, but one minute later, a purple sheet of energy crackled up over the windows.

The demons flew against it, screeching, their claws outstretched, grappling with the shield and getting burnt. Several of them tried, but were hurt, and eventually they flew away, screeching angrily.

Leo whirled on his feet, looking down at Chris, still knelt on the floor. He looked absolutely winded, and when he looked up, his face was gaunt and grey. "I can hold it for a while," Chris said, his words forced and fast. "I don't know how long. A day, maybe. More if we get the Power of Three back."

"How?" Piper said. "Is it the same way you transferred the pain from me to you?"

Leo looked between them, confused, as Chris nodded.

"And it hurts you," Piper said.

Chris nodded again.

"I don't want you to have to hold it for a day," she said, and turned to the wreckage of the attic. Walking steadily forward over timber, she grabbed the book, and turned to go downstairs. "We're gonna find a way to reverse this Calling."


Lieutenant Darryl Morris rubbed his eyes tiredly, leafing through the paperwork on his desk.

He knew exactly who he could call to explain this mess, but he still couldn't work up the courage to do it, especially since the explosion in the morgue. And especially seeing as how someone must have magically messed with his memories. It didn't take a genius to work out that it was because he'd gotten wrapped up with the Halliwells again. He couldn't afford to.

But maybe he couldn't afford not to.

The entire state was buzzing with alerts of grotesquely deformed people, large birds with claws, dragons, people breathing fire, all attacking random houses, or gypsy communities, or communes. And it was starting to slowly spread outside the state, with reports coming in from everywhere.

The hospitals were filling up with victims quicker than they were able to get out of the hospital, and that was leading to the hospitals being attacked too. Every policeman was hard at work… and Darryl was left with the dregs of it. Despite his expertise in the area, he still wasn't trusted enough to go out in the field with the demons (and, oh, how he hated that word still) out there, for fear his report would come back with only half the information.

So he was sat there. Babysitting. Because apparently all the social workers were out with the police, trying to calm down citizens, and round up any children orphaned by the number of bodies piling up in the county's morgue.

He looked up from his paperwork to look at her. The little girl stared solemnly back at him, swinging her legs, her brown eyes wide and curious.

He was babysitting an orphaned six-year-old girl while the entire world was being attacked.

Just another Halliwell side effect, he thought uncharitably, resenting the fact he was stuck in the office.

"I shouldn't be here," the girl announced suddenly.

Darryl frowned. "Why?"

"You'll be in danger."

"Me?" He tilted his head. "Why would I be in danger, Bianca?"

Bianca stared at him flatly for a moment, and then lifted up her wrist. Darryl looked at the red birthmark that looked like a stylised bird in flight. "You know these attacks are evil. I can tell. In your eyes. You know my world exists."

"Your world-" Darryl inhaled sharply.

"Demons," she said. "Magic."

"Are you a demon?" Darryl slid his hand underneath his desk, automatically searching for his gun, his throat going instantly dry.

"No, silly," Bianca said, shaking her head and laughing. "I'm a Phoenix." She held up her wrist again for him to see.

Darryl's hands froze in the search for his gun. "I see," he said slowly, trying to take it in. "Uh, does that mean you can come back from the dead if you die?"

"When I'm older," Bianca said. She rolled her eyes. "I'm not a bird. I'm a witch."

"Oh," Darryl said, looking away, suddenly feeling worse from the turn of conversation. "Right."

"And the demons are only attacking people with magic," Bianca said. Darryl turned his gaze back to her. She was talking earnestly, her hands folded on her lap, deadly serious, and something about it all just hit Darryl. This was a six-year-old kid, given to them by a 'mysterious stranger' who just so happened to sound and look a lot like Chris, (whoever he really was) whose mother had died, and she was so serious. A six-year-old.

"And you have magic," Darryl said, keeping his voice down. There was hardly anyone in the building, just a skeleton crew, as most of them were out and dealing with the demons.

"So you'll be in danger," Bianca said.

"What kind of magic do you have?" Darryl said, suddenly curious.

"Nothing much at the moment. Shimmering is what I'm good at," Bianca said, looking quite proud. "Mama said-" She was smiling brightly, but her smile dropped away, and she looked down at her feet. "Mama said I was real good at it."

"Can you take other people with you when you shimmer?" Darryl asked, vaguely recalling seeing Paige orb with more than one person.

"Yes," Bianca said slowly, drawing out the syllable.

"So if someone attacks, you can take me with you," Darryl said. "Or you can shimmer away, and the demon won't attack me, because I'm not magical."

Bianca clapped her hands together and looked up at him, her face shining. "You're right. Thank you!"

"So you're going to need a new home after all of this," Darryl said lightly.

She turned her face away to look out of the window. "A whole lot of children are, after this."

Something in her face moved him.

"This is a Calling," Bianca said, her voice soft. "Someone with great power has called all the demons to eradicate all good magic. It's going to be a long night." Her face twisted again, and she looked sad, so desperately sad that Darryl moved around his desk, and took her hand in his.

She turned around and impulsively hugged him, sniffing into his shirt.

"It's going to be such a terribly long, dark night. And we might not make it," she said.

He turned her face up to him, and was sad to see it so tear-stained.

"But after that night there'll be morning," he said, not knowing where the words were coming from, just reaching inside himself to memories of seeing his girls, the Halliwells, in action, and feeling so sad that he'd pushed them away so harshly, trying to think what they'd say in this situation. "And after long nights, mornings are brilliant."

Bianca sniffed, and nodded, her tears stopping.

"And after that, you can come live with me, my wife and my two boys. How would you like that?" For one long moment, Darryl didn't know where those words were coming from, and a dark part of him suspected magic had made him say it, made him promise, until he realised that he honestly meant it. He wanted this pale girl with such devotion and seriousness in her to be part of his family.

Or maybe it was Fate. Sheila had been making some noises about wanting a girl, and with her hormone problems at the minute, conceiving normally was looking unlikely, and Sheila had mentioned vaguely about adoption…

But if Darryl believed in Fate, it would mean having to believe in magic too. And that was something he'd been rather keen to avoid embracing.

Bianca looked at him for a long moment. "Are you sure?" She said, finally, sensing his reluctance, but attributing it to herself rather than the difficult internal struggle he was going through.

"Yes," Darryl said, realising he meant it, realising it meant embracing her world and everything thing in it again, from the magic to the demons to everything. But embracing the bad meant embracing the good too. "Yes, I do."

"Then yes," Bianca said, her eyes shining. "Uh, but don't you think you should ask your wife and sons first?"

Darryl nodded, and reached instantly for the phone, and as he dialled the number reflected on how serious Bianca actually was. And how three days with his manic kids would probably let her be relaxed enough to be a kid again.

The phone connected. "Hi love," Darryl said, as brightly as possible. He smiled at Bianca and she smiled back, and that gave him the courage to continue. "It's me. I've got a preposition for you…"


T - 5