Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed. I admit defeat after ten chapters… Sometimes. :plots wickedly ways to kill Arron Spelling and take the show for my own:

The time remote geared up and they were yanked forward unceremoniously. For less than a second there was silence, then Paige burst,

"Okay, what was the deal with you and your parents? I mean, I hated my parents-- my adopted parents-- for most of my life, but I still loved them, especially after I lost them. What'd they do to make you hate them like that?" she added in a whisper, "Even in death…?"

Phoebe shifted where she stood, wondering if she should intervene. But then the part of her that couldn't hold out felt a sudden urge to take the situation into her own hands and spill his secret then and there. Luckily, though, her mouth had a mind of its own and asked a different question, directing the attention away from the not-so-conversational previous one.

"Who was Paris? I mean, why would she leave her only home to go with you to who knows where for who knows what reason? And if you were trying to disappear, why would you let her come with you in the first place?"

Chris inhaled slowly, looking down. There, again, was that look on his face, the one she recognized vaguely but couldn't quite say where she had seen it before, or what it was. He let his breath out even slower. "Paris," he said, " was a really close friend. There wasn't anything anyone could say to convince her she shouldn't be by my side if I was… struggling. She always stood by me, especially when everyone else backed down. She knew I didn't really want to have to leave, so she came with me and we left everything behind together." He gave a small laugh. "And she didn't exactly make her presence known until it was too late to send her back."

The ones from the past stared mutely. Whatever response they had anticipated, it was not for him to be so completely honest and straightforward.

Phoebe suddenly gasped, however, as Chris let out a cry of shock and pain, crumbling to the ground, face taut as he forced himself not to scream again.

"Chris-- what is it?" she was at his side without delay.

Sweat beginning to break out across his forehead, he choked, "Bianca-- she's trying to-- summon me--"

The sisters exchanged looks of confusion. How could someone resist a summoning spell? It wasn't exactly something they'd heard of before, and they were probably the most active witches out there. The boy's muffled cry brought them back to the moment and he gasped,

"I can't-- keep it back-- much longer--!" He halted abruptly, screwing his face up with the effort and pain. "You have to keep-- going without me. I'll-- find my way-- back to you."

"Chris, is there any way we can fight this?" Paige asked urgently, kneeling down beside him with Phoebe and ignoring his last comment. At least she didn't want to give him back to the assassin without a fight, Phoebe thought vaguely. "Is there any way to stop it?"

This was all unfamiliar territory. Throwing off summoning spells had never been on any of Piper's quizzes, but Chris was like a walking Book of Shadows.

He shook his head. "No-- Just go! Finish the Elders'-- assignment--! The date is-- somewhere around-- around--" He faltered, racking his memory furiously. The exact date was somewhere in there, he knew. He was good with numbers, it had to be in there somewhere. But the violent wrenching of the summoning spell kept him from being able to pull it forward. Why hadn't he just taken the time when he had it, when they first asked? The vicious jerking was almost to the point of unbearable now. Still, he forced his mind to dig. It had been around his birthday… maybe a day or two after… When Was It? He couldn't resist anymore. Picking a day, he gasped,

"Eleven nineteenth, two-thousand twenty---"

And was consumed in golden summoning lights.

Piper, Phoebe, Paige, and Leo stared. They couldn't go after him. They had no idea where Bianca was, or even what year she was in. They just had to trust their whitelighter could handle himself in his traitorous fiancée's presence. Trust he could find them again, whatever year they happened to be in.

"Eleven--- November," Paige counted off. "November 19th. Year 2020. Great. Now how are we supposed to find the date in every time period we come across?"

Piper shrugged uselessly, somewhat dazed. "I… dunno. Maybe the spell will work now. We have the date… just not Chris."

"Can it work without him?" queried Paige, frowning thoughtfully.

Again Piper shrugged. "We're already in the future. Maybe magic will say 'ah what the heck, they're already there, what can a few more years hurt?' and let us."

Phoebe considered. It was un-Piper-ish to quote something an inanimate thing would say/think. Especially in such simple terms. She mentally shook herself. "It's worth a shot," she determined.

But at that moment, the time remote slammed to a jarring halt, sending them all flying.

Paige groaned and got up, rubbing her arm tentatively where she had landed on it. "How come Chris never fell?" she demanded, inspecting the now forming bruise forlornly, but Piper stopped her from speaking further by holding up a hand. They were in a large bedroom where a strange scene unfolding before them. And it was only by a lucky chance that someone had cried out at the moment of their impact, or they might have been discovered.

"You know, you could have avoiding this all," said a deep, malevolent voice that sent shivers down their spines. They all recognized it as the voice that came along with being the Source. The effect that felt as though they had had ice water doused over them was unmistakable.

And the Source was there. In the bedroom. Sitting in a chair next to the bed-- where lay a teenaged Chris with the two streaks of shock-white hair and haunted green eyes, even more so than they had last seen. Again Leo felt something within him stir when he saw the scar across the boy's cheek, but still didn't understand why. The half-blood had bruises and bloody gashes covering every exposed bit of skin. His shirt was also ripped, exposing even more raggedly torn flesh. His eyes were staring, a distinguishable note of anguish glossing them.

Phoebe's heart fell like an icy stone into her stomach. He had been tortured. Whipped. Beaten. He just can't get away from it, can he? She thought, swallowing hard. There was no doubt he had been the one to scream as they landed. The Source must had done something else to cause him pain. And speaking of...

The Source had his back to them, but they could see he was wearing the customary black robes and hood. And it fit on this particular Source more than they had ever seen on any other. Maybe it was because it seemed to enhance even further the power they could all feel emanating from his very being. "If you would just forget that stupid concept of good and evil and join me, this never would have happened again. And stopping going to the Resistance wouldn't hurt either…" he added as an after thought.

"Killing innocents is evil. Period," replied the battered one quietly. They could all hear how it hurt to talk. They could all see it in his tormented eyes. "I won't."

"You won't what?" said the Source, obviously not paying that much attention.

"Fry tennis shoes," retorted the fifteen year old softly.

The Source laughed suddenly. A real laugh. Confusion flicked across Chris' face, "What's so funny? My sarcasm hasn't amused you in ages-- and if I'm allowed to use it again I might have to stop."

"No," came the man's amused response. "I just remembered how Jessie once said that exact same thing. Actually I think I may have that video, still." He thoughtfully waved his hand and a slender disk appeared in his grasp. The ones from the past frowned. Geez, everyone knew this Jessie, didn't they? The Source hit a button and a 3D projection appeared between him and the bed.

The scene it showed was of a Phoebe, maybe eight years in the future, chatting to a friendly looking, tall brunette man and a ten year old Wyatt. Suddenly they heard two voices calling from a distance, "Paige, Paige! Look what we can do!"

Clumsily the camera turned to face two children, running across the park to the small crowd. One was a little boy with a mop of unruly brown hair and vivid green eyes. The other was a girl with glowingly bright golden curls and startlingly brilliant blue eyes. Paige's laugh was heard, and they knew she was the one holding the camera. "Alright, what have you two figured out this time?" She asked, laughing, the two's enthusiasm contagious.

The girl and boy exchanged breathless smiles, each putting an arm over the other's shoulders.

"Okay. One, two, pickle!" They jumped simultaneously, doing a somersault in midair, and landed on their feet, all in perfect unison. Future Paige, Phoebe, and the man all laughed, clapping.

"Come on, Wyatt!" called the girl, they now figured must be Jessie.

"Let's have a trio!" continued the youngest Chris, hair scattering into his face. He wrinkled his nose and tried to blow it out of his eyes.

The camera turned to see Wyatt's reaction. The little blonde boy laughed, shaking his head. "And break every bone in my body? I'll pass."

"I won't," said Phoebe suddenly. She had her cell phone to her ear.

"Won't what?" came Paige's voice, confused, not seeing the slender ear piece.

"Fry tennis shoes," said Jessie absently.

"Jess," said Chris, in something like a cautious voice. He suddenly looked nervous. Jessie's bright blue eyes widened.

The Source cut the projection off abruptly. "Remember how active and energetic she used to be?" he said softly, thoughtfully. Chris just stared at the spot the projection had been and didn't reply. The Source seemed slightly annoyed at his lack of response and added indifferently. "Hm. And now imagine her lying in a four foot pine box with maggots crawling through her eye sockets and a worm living in her decomposing tongue."

Chris' face snapped up to meet the Source's, his eyes wide and startled. He looked confused. "Why… why would you say that?" the boy whispered, and for the first time there was a vulnerability in his voice they'd never heard before.

Mutely, coldly, the Source stood and flamed out. For a moment Chris stared, gaping, at the spot he had once stood, tears gradually welling in his eyes. Tears that would never fall. But tears that wanted to, so, so badly.

Phoebe felt his anguish, though he was blocking her without even realizing she was there. She felt the pain, and she wanted him to cry. Tears were so much easier to watch than this silent internal struggle they had to witness. Anything was better than this, she thought, crying softly herself.

"Come on," Paige from her time whispered. "Let's get somewhere to say the spell. I can't watch this." She, too, had tears in her eyes.

They all took hands and invisi-orbed out. The four reappeared outside a door where raised voices were inside. Their chanting wouldn't be overheard, the way the other demonic ones were shouting.

"IT'S TOO RISKY!" one yelled. "He won't join us! Admit it! He'll keep helping them behind our backs, no matter how we punish him afterwards! His will is too strong!"

"Behind our backs?" scoffed another. "He openly defied us! He went straight to the Resistance and put a shield around the whole damn planet! He didn't even care that he would be tortured when we brought him back! And he knew it would be just like every other time--- he just didn't care!"

"The boy doesn't value his own life," said a calmer, but no less evil voice. "Those are the most dangerous ones of all."

"I will deal with him," said the Source's voice. "He may have a strong will, but he has been an emotional wreck ever since Jessica died seven years ago. It won't require much to put him back in his place again. To break him."

"But what if you push him straight into the hands of the Resistance?" pressed the second voice. "What if they actually take him in-- trust him? Not just until he is strong enough to leave, again, but permanently?"

"They won't trust him. He has too much history for them to willingly," asserted the Source. "Nobody in their right minds would trust a fallen angel such as he."

"But they did," retorted the first voice. "He went to them and they helped him. What if they realize where he's being held-- and against his will? They might try to come and take him!"

There was the sound of a demon being vanquished. "Anyone else doubt me?" the Source asked lightly. No one answered.

The Charmed Ones and Leo shared a silent, confused look, each knowing what the others were feeling... thinking. Paige finally pulled out the paper with the spell on it and handed it to the middle sister. They chanted tonelessly,

"Time of deeds, time of future

Take us to another era

Help us complete our task

The date now unmasked

Take us to November 19,

2020."

They were instantly consumed in golden beads of light.

22 Chris watched as the sisters chanted the spell inside the little seeing pool and turned back to Bianca. They were in a silver bubble, drifting out of the reaches of time, able to look into any era they wanted inside thousands of similar seeing pools. The empty space outside and around them resembled a spider web and their own silver bubble glided along an endless strand of it.

"You can't keep me here forever," he said for the dozenth time, not expecting her to give a response since she had maintained her silence for so long. She merely smiled again, that You-have-no-idea-what-you've-gotten-into-and-I-do smile that made his blood run cold. But… his eyes narrowed as her noticed a gleam of gold on her finger. His heart did something strange, but what exactly it meant he had no idea.

"I didn't give you that wedding ring," he whispered, his voice sounding distant in his own ears.