Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed. But I do own this computer I'm typing on… I should name this computer… something classy… hmm...

… ah well, nothing's coming to mind, so on with the story!

The adult Bianca smiled the same cruel smile and shimmered out… and straight into the time period in question. Chris swore, sounding not at all staged.

"I thought she didn't know how to get out of this damn bubble," he grumbled.

"I let her," said a deep and malevolent voice. Chris sighed and didn't even turn around.

"Hello, Wyatt."

"Chris," returned the voice, nonchalant. "That wasn't nice, banishing me to the Gobi desert."

"That wasn't nice, vanquishing my fiancée and all," Chris replied in the same calm, collected voice. "And you didn't have to resurrect her as evil."

"Come on," said Wyatt coldly, and Chris could tell his eyes had turned hard. But he didn't shiver, as he would have when he was sixteen. He didn't even appear phased. "You know that girl never stays on the side she was born… or returned to."

"Could have fooled me," Chris responded bitterly. They didn't even know what time period they were looking into, but it didn't matter. They weren't looking at anything… they were just not looking at each other… Neither of them wanted to remember that they had chosen opposite sides of the war… It would only cause the pain of that betrayal so many years ago to return…

Chris could feel Wyatt look away from the designated staring spot to a new one as he said quietly, "It wasn't so many years ago. Just three."

Chris' eyes wandered to the ground. "Not so long? Just four years ago I was helping you with your calculus homework and you were trying to convince Monica 'it was a mistake'. You didn't know the dude you kicked off the basketball team was her brother…"

Without looking up, Chris knew Wyatt was smiling when he asked, "You still remember that?"

Chris' eyes rose to Wyatt's face, and for a moment their was unexplainable anger in the glamoured blue spheres. "Of course I remember," he said with a quiet passion. "Do you know what it's like, Wyatt? Do you know what it's like not to have everything, now? Or has nothing really changed since I left?"

Wyatt didn't respond, and for some reason Chris felt the anger rising in his chest, making it hard to breathe. He couldn't stop the words from flying out of his mouth, that which he'd been wanting to scream for so very long. "Do you know what it's like, now? Do you? To not have anything? Any reason to wake up in the morning? Do you know what it's like forcing yourself to anyway just to see if there's some chance that things'll get better, and then have that hope come back and slap you in the face? Do you? Gawd, Wyatt! How could I forget? Those damn memories were the only things that kept me going, because I knew that at one time it hadn't been so bad! Those damn memories were the only things that kept me believing it could be that way again! How could I forget them?"

Wyatt still didn't respond. He wasn't looking at Chris, or even in his direction. After a moment that seemed to be electrically charged with Chris' anger, he sighed and gazed up into his little brother's face with remorse… "Chris, this is what has to happen before it can get better. It's just… I wanted you on my side when it started. I had no idea you would be so… different when you came back--"

"Me? Different?" repeated Chris with a harsh laugh. His eyes raked over his brother in scornful amazement at the statement. "Wyatt, before I left, you were good-- angry, but still good. When I came back you were evil-- who do you think changed, there?"

Wyatt threw his little brother a sidelong look with turquoise eyes. He had put aside the total blackness, like he would sometimes do when he spoke to his brother. Now those eyes only made the pain Chris felt more intense. The young one looked away. It was really Wyatt in there. His same Wyatt… just doing things Chris had never thought he'd do before. But it was still him…

Wyatt likewise looked away. This was going nowhere either of them wanted it to go… so his black eyes he had antiquated from the Source came back and the brothers did the dance they were beginning to know best. The steps of the fateful dance involved one Source of all Evil, and his arch nemesis, one leader of the Rebellion.

Joden had raised the gun within a second, whirled around, and had it pointed straight at Paris' forehead. Before anyone could react, he had pulled the trigger... and shimmered out.
As though in slow motion, Paris' body began to fall backwards... her indigo blue eyes open... but the spark of knowledge and understanding, the spark of life... it was gone.

Chris' reaction came too late. He rushed forward and managed to catch Paris' body before it hit the cold, hard ground, but his flash of violent telekinesis hit the wall behind where Joden had stood, missing the man by a fraction of a second. His mind was in turmoil, still not able to fully register what had just happened… but he didn't need to. He knew it without registering it.

Tears spilled down his cheeks as his knees gave in, still holding Paris in his arms. Things were happening around him, but he just couldn't handle dealing with anything else right now. All he saw, all he knew, was the lifeless body cradled in his arms. Her eyes… her eyes were still open. Staring straight at him. But she wasn't in there. She wasn't there anymore. She wasn't anywhere… the tears continued to fall… just as merciless as the one who had just shot his own girlfriend… Joden had shot Paris… the last thing Chris had left to hold on to; the last thing he had that was keeping him sane… it had been taken away. He couldn't do it. Not anymore. It was too much. Too much…

He didn't know what was happening but there was fighting, there was struggling… there were screams… people screaming in pain… people screaming his name… things… the devices they'd come to retrieve… were being smashed and shattered. Nothing was right… it wasn't right…

Paris was gone… no more of her laughter after his lame jokes… No more gentle blue eyes that always knew what he was going through… No more taking on the world just so he would be spared… No more unconditional support… No more late night TV and putting bologna on Damien's face while he slept… No one left, at least none who cared, who even knew his last name… There was nothing… no one… there was no one left… He couldn't handle it. His breaths were ragged as he clutched the body tightly, unable to stem the cascade of tears… unable to try. The last person left…

"Chris!" the screams were frantic now… hysterical. He couldn't do it… "Chris! God, Chris, please!" There was sobbing all around him. Nothing was making sense. He just couldn't do it. He wanted it to stop… Paris… he just… couldn't.

The screaming… breaking… crying… fear… pain… hatred… he was losing control of his empathy. He wasn't even meant to be an empath… it was so hard… and now Paris… Terror… desperation… panic… loss… grief… so much pain… and anger.

He just wanted it to stop. There was blood. From the shot. And it was pouring all down her face… her beautiful face… dripping into her still opened eyes… staining them forever scarlet… no… No. Not now. He couldn't handle it. Not ever. Not Paris… He wanted it to stop. It had to stop.

He felt the emotions building up inside his chest… the ones he'd always suppressed beginning to rumble, then roar into life. They were all mixing and multiplying… so rapidly… so intensely, sparing him none of the pain… the anguish… he just wanted it to stop… he wanted it to stop so badly…

The emotions were building pressure inside him… then they were erupting. "Stop," he whispered, his voice cracking with the raw anguish at first. But nothing happened. They were still screaming at him… screaming at him to help them… They were so… desperate… they weren't going to last long… they were being hurt… dying… and screaming at him to help… he was the only one who could help… but he couldn't. He couldn't… handle it. An anger like he had never known began to flare to life inside his chest like a dragon, a dragon that roared and raged, rearing to life… rearing to strike. "STOP IT!" he yelled, more like a scream, so loud everyone was shocked into silence.

And in that moment, that tense moment of unadulterated solitude, he understood something. This was the climax. This was the culmination of all his years of abuse and torment at the hands of those he loved. Through the years Paris had acted as a container for all his built up grief and anger, who had shared his tears and troubles when they had become too much. It was this moment, when there was no one left on this Earth who shared his pain, that the pain overtook him.

Then he broke. Power-- raw, uncontrolled, unshaped power-- began radiating from him as he shook. He was no longer sobbing… just shaking. Then the barely visible power began coming off in waves. The floor vibrated. That's when they saw it in his eyes… he couldn't take any more.

The sixteen year old couldn't take it anymore… and he didn't have to.

The ground and walls were shaking violently, and the Charmed Ones and Leo felt as though the time remote had been activated again by the sudden hook and feeling of being jerked roughly backwards. Then, before they had even realized what had happened, they were on the ground, winded, and looking up at a confused Joden, who was pointing a gun into the air where Paris' face had been apparently only seconds before. Phoebe snapped her head around to find Paris gasp for breath, still held securely in Chris' arms.
Time had reset… But how?

She didn't have time to dwell on the concept, for at that moment Joden had lowered the gun down to the two teenagers' level, and once more pulled the trigger.

There was a scream from beside Phoebe… either Andre or Paige, she couldn't tell. The bullet had mixed up the dust in the air, and she was waiting, holding her breath, for it to clear.

When it did, she saw an outcome only slightly different from the first.

Chris had pushed Paris out of the immediate path upon a lightening fast reflex, and on a just as fast reflex, threw out his hand and sent Joden flying into the wall, where he was knocked unconscious. Before the rest of the team could rush forward to assess the damage and situation, the demon assassins had once again shimmered in and had them occupied fighting for their lives.

Chris, still in shock, still shaking violently, leaned forward and fell on his knees. He crawled towards Paris' prostrate body and tried to suppressed a cry of pain and horror. She had been shot, again, but this time in the chest. His hands pressed down against the wound, hard, but he couldn't stop the bleeding. He could feel her heart beat grow fainter. He could feel the blood slowly begin to decrease…

He felt her heart stop.

"Paris, no. Paris," he moaned as the tears began to come back. He couldn't think… the sounds of battle now screamed at him from every direction. What-- had he reset time only to watch her die again? The tears began to fall. Andre had been killed last time fighting her assassin. So had one of the 'tagalongs'. Were they going to die again, too? He felt as if the walls were closing in on him… he couldn't… not again…
But… a faint flicker of her eyelids… a small breath passing though her lips…

Paris was alive.

His hands shot forward and did the only thing he could think of. He didn't think about the consequences, he only thought of his friend. Chris forced the golden glow into his hands and forced the warmth to heal her… forced it to heal the only true friend he'd ever had. He couldn't lose her. He couldn't lose her again…

Paris gasped for the second time, her indigo blue eyes flew open, and Chris flung his arms around her, overwhelming relief.

Somewhat dazed, definitely perplexed, Paris returned the gesture halfway, still regaining her breath.
But it was never enough when it came to Chris.

Out of nowhere, blue orb lights appeared and surrounded Chris, enveloping him completely. Paris fell back and stared at the spot he'd been only seconds before. Then it dawned on her. Her face paled. Asking the battling room at large, Paris whispered,
"He healed me, didn't he?"

One wouldn't think such a comment could be heard over the clamor of desperate battle, but the Charmed Ones and Leo seemed to freeze, something clicking in the backs of all their minds. The four abandoned their fights with their own assassins and flocked to Leo, who immediately orbed them all Up There. When one had been cast down from grace, one couldn't use their healing power… without penalty.

What they found was a wide panel of Elders, all in their customary robes, formed in a half moon shape around a furious, teary Chris. The Elders were cold, their expressions stony. One particular Elder was speaking in tones of sedate authority, but his underlying anger was not far from the surface.

"Christopher, we have warned you again and again," he stated with suppressed heat. "And we wouldn't have to constantly add to your already overwhelming struggle if you would just pay the price without--"

"Pay the price?" interrupted Chris angrily. "Pay the price? I have already paid the price! I have already gone through freaking hell because of you, and now you want to make me 'pay the price' for trying to save the last thing that's keeping me sane? What the hell is your problem?"

"Our problem?" snarled back a different Elder, making Phoebe take a step back. She'd never seen any of the Elders so angry before. "You, Christopher, are our problem! You are the cause of this entire war, yet you take no responsibility for any of your actions! And if it weren't for you, heyana val antoi jza mehy…" he continued to rave in enraged tones in the once beautiful, yet now stabbing language of the Elders.

Whatever the Elder was saying seemed to incite Chris even more, and soon the two were not far from screaming at each other across the designated 'trial room'. …And then they were.

"What're they yelling about?" whispered Paige, catching onto Phoebe's shoulder as the empath swooned from the intense anger in the room. Leo shook his head, a look of mingled confusion and puzzlement on his face.

"I understand what they're saying… just not… what they're talking about." He responded vaguely, still trying to listen.

The heat seemed to be rising even more, if that was possible. Phoebe was close to hyperventilating just trying to keep the emotions from coming out in the form of physical violence on her part, when suddenly Chris yelled in English,
"Then I will fight the whole hyantei world if I have to! It is NOT a lost cause!"

"Yes, it is!" shouted the Elder, red in the face now. "If you hadn't tipped the balance in favor of evil in the first place, it might not be, though! Don't you get it? This is what you're paying for! You killed your own mother, giving evil the upper hand enough to attack us openly! You destroyed the Power of Three with her, paving the way for them even further! You have to pay for that! You must pay for that!"

Abruptly, Chris looked away, but not before they could see the tears glittering in his vivid green eyes. The Elders were momentarily taken aback, not having expected him to show any sign of vulnerability or defeat. For a fraction of a second there was silence, when Chris whispered, just barely audibly, "I already have." He suddenly looked up at them, swimming eyes blazing fiercely. "Do you think I wanted to kill her? Do you think I had any choice in the matter, whatsoever? I mean, what do you think h--"

"That's not the point!" boomed Odin in a stern voice. "That does not change what you did! You gave Evil the largest leg-up in history, while crippling our side critically! You cannot be allowed to get away with that! Whahey normada innosite dywei si!"

The look Chris gave Odin then… none present had ever seen it before. Then again, none had ever seen Chris during a moment of homicidal anger. "Odin, if you EVER try to hurt any of my friends again, I swear before God that I will kill you! You pathetic son of a hyaway, nomasteq yakatah fryair!" (--Leo's jaw dropped.)

Odin, along with the rest of the Elders, looked infuriated and flung out his arm. Chris was sent careening into the back wall, where he folded to the ground, but not before he threw out his own arm and sent Odin hurtling backwards. Odin was scarlet in the face and cast out his hands, and suddenly Chris' feet were knocked out from beneath him again, this time with an invisible force holding his arms behind his back. The Elder spoke something in the language and Chris very abruptly looked winded. Tears filled his eyes once again, but this time they were proof of the hurt the other's words had inflicted. Nothing more. His anger had vanished.

He stopped trying to fight the invisible bindings, and whispered, looking at Odin alone, "…How could you say that?"

While several Elders looked as though they didn't approve of what Odin had said, Odin himself portrayed not a flicker of guilt or regret.

"Christopher," said Odin in the voice of finality, "we have warned you about using your whitelighter powers after we cast you down from grace; and we have cursed you multiple times for disregarding those orders, but since it never seems to get through to you, we have come to a decision."

Chris merely continued to stare at him, the suppressed tears beginning to find their way down his cheeks. His hands, stained and dripping Paris' blood, were shaking so slightly.
Odin waved an arm, Elder robes flurrying, and a darklighter's crossbow appeared in the crook of his arm. Free Style materialized a few yards away from Chris. For a moment, shocked confusion flashed across Chris' face, when suddenly comprehension slammed into him. He instantly clambered back to his feet, but it was already too late. The Elders, without any verbal signal, had come down from their lofty perches and were surrounding him, at least four holding him into place away from his zail.

"No!" Chris yelled, struggling wildly; the Elders wouldn't relent, however. "No! Don't touch him! No--!" His voice broke, though, as the Elders grabbed Free Style, and his entire body seized up in pain and shock. He wasn't breathing.

From the sidelines Phoebe screamed aloud, grasping her chest as she crumpled to the ground like a rag doll. Piper and Paige were in a state of chaos. Piper was holding onto a hyperventilating Phoebe while Paige was yelling at Leo to stop the Elders. None of them had missed the reference of themselves in context with his mother. None of them understood it, really, but it didn't matter. They were on Chris' side and that was that.
Odin looked Chris directly in the eyes. "We warned you," he said coldly… and pulled the trigger.

Three screams filled the room; one was the sixteen year old's as he buckled to the ground, another was the empath's, and the last was the winged wolf cub's howl.

Piper, Paige, and Leo were momentarily shocked, then outraged. "How could you do that?" shrieked Piper, making their presence known. She advanced on the Elders, Paige and Leo hot on her heels. The Elders didn't take in her 'announcement' at first, their eyes too trained on the child as he tried to stop the bleeding as he had done with Paris, helpless sobs racking his body, but they did turn to pay attention as Piper flicked her fingers and the nearest Elder blew up. "Hey, I'm talkin' to you!"

Odin spun around to face her. "What are you doing here? Who are you?" he demanded coldly.

"Who are we?" repeated Piper hotly as Paige ran to the teenager's side.

"No," Chris croaked barely audibly through the heart wrenching sobs. "No… please, God, no…"

Paige knelt down beside him, motioning frantically for Leo to come and heal the beautiful, dying creature. But no. With one last, feeble breath, Free Style was gone. Leo's hands went limp at his sides as he gazed down at the tangible, dead piece of Chris' very soul…

Chris had completely broken down in tears, and Paige tried to pull him into a hug without thinking, only to have him startle backwards. His anguish wrought green eyes flashed briefly up to meet hers, and Paige suppressed a small scream as she looked into them.

"Who are we?" repeated Piper hotly, and suddenly a wave of nausea hit her as two and two added up for the first time in her consciousness. Her eyes went wide… her mouth came open. No longer mentally present in the room, but instead in a form of shock, she murmured, "… We're his family."

Hey, sorry for the delay. Maybe you saw my note before it was 'taken down'. Anyways... How many people were expecting that? And I got SO many reviews that were horrified/angry that I killed Paris. Come on! I may be sadistic to some extent, but I couldn't kill off his last and best friend! Anyway... Review please!