A/N: Shorter than usual because I like where this chapter ends…

Thanks go to:

Starry Sky 44: I wanted a better acronym, but it was the only one I could come up with. Thanks for the encouraging review – it is much appreciated!

Charmed Ravenclaw: Yep – I tried to rethink Redundant, but this kept coming out instead. Hope you're enjoying it. Thanks for taking the time to push that button and letting me know your thoughts.

Jade Hunter: Thank you so much for your very kind words (here and for No Fate)! Your comments gave me such a pick me up to complete this chapter. BTW, good pick up on the ID cards – unfortunately, this is inspired from real life events. Sad, eh?

Chattypandagurl: Thanks for the wonderful words – regarding Chris' illness I will say that it is magic related.

Girl-with-the-green-eyes: Glad you liked the humour – always a challenge for me to incorporate. Between you and me, I'm not really sure what Zankou is up to either! Thanks again for always taking the time to review.

Indigochipmunk: Hope this meets your timeline. Thanks for the review!

Mjp3: Chris' illness is definitely magic related, as I was too lazy to actually research a real illness. By making it caused by magic allows me to create my own symptoms to suit the storyline. More will be revealed in the upcoming chapters, I promise. Again, thank you for the encouraging comment!

Connor: I don't write Buffy fics because I don't think I could do justice to the wonderful characters Joss has created.


The End of All Things

Chapter 5

The splotches were spreading.

From far away, it looked like he had some sort of rash. He frowned at the reflection in the mirror. But of course, on closer inspection, the pale red splotches which smattered his skin were slowly increasing in number and size. He had noticed the first one several months ago upon his return from the past. At first, Chris had thought he'd pick up some sort of allergic reaction as a result of his visit with his family, not surprising given the incredible differences between living in the past and his present.

But of course, fate was never that kind.

He shuddered.

He'd ignored the warning signs, keeping his suspicions to himself. Besides, his attention was consumed with the incredible burden of returning the world to what it once was. The balance of good and evil had once more tipped back on the side of good, but you wouldn't know it from the devastation left behind. He had had to focus himself on righting the world as quickly as he could, leaving himself blind to the slow deterioration of his health.

Days, then weeks and months passed. Other symptoms appeared – the nosebleeds, the hair loss, momentary loss of motor control and the most recent and alarming – the vomiting of blood.

When he had finally accepted the inevitable, when he finally decided he could no longer ignore his condition, he had sought help – and they only confirmed what he already knew.

Lilah had been by earlier for another of their countless healing sessions that were growing increasingly in number and frequency. She had berated him once again for not seeking help earlier – not that it would have made a difference in the long run, he had quickly returned. No, she agreed, but you needn't suffer in silence, which you're want to do.

"Me? Suffer in silence?" Chris asked, his right eyebrow raised in sarcasm.

"Very funny, Chris. Sometimes I think you enjoy playing the martyr," Lilah accused.

"Never," Chris shook his head empathically. "That went out of style with Joan of Arc."

Lilah sighed, "Ever the erstwhile comedian, I see."

"I try," Chris shrugged, trying to look nonchalant and promptly spoiling the effect as another coughing fit attacked him.

It was the truth. Chris didn't enjoy suffering in silence – he just hadn't been able to admit to himself the reality of his illness. He had convinced himself it was a bad cough that would eventually go away. The symptoms had onset so gradually, he honestly hadn't noticed. The tiredness could be attributed to the reconstruction efforts, the splotches to an allergic reaction, the nosebleeds to the change in the environment…all logical conclusions.

And if I couldn't even acknowledge it myself, Chris thought, how could I even admit it to the others?

He'd visibly stepped back from his position as leader of the Resistance, ostensibly to deal with his illness though there were few who were in the know. Both Darryl and Les were insisting Chris inform the general populace of his illness, not understanding his reluctance to do so. Not up to arguing with either of his friends, Chris had stubbornly maintained it would be his decision to communicate the nature of his absence, if at all. He preferred it that way – less pitying looks and sympathetic murmurings to avoid.

The last thing I want is for people to treat me like some bloody invalid, Chris thought, his lips curling into a slight grimace. Stumbling from the bathroom, he made his way to the couch, slowly plodding forward before collapsing onto the piece of furniture, breathing heavily.

The illness had taken its toll. It had been hard to summon up even a semblance of interest in the current ongoings. Even though he wasn't visible to the general population, both Darryl and Les had daily meetings with him to keep him abreast on current events. Just the other week, Les had complained how he was nervous about how mortals knew all about the weaknesses and strengths of magical beings – the information 'taught' to many of the Resistance scouts as part of their training. Meanwhile, Darryl had been unable to dissuade the Council from supporting the mortals' request – pretty soon all magical beings would be 'issued' temporary identification documents.

Oh, it wasn't that he was disinterested, exactly…but rather, he found it incredibly difficult to remain focused for a substantial length of time. He tired quickly, for one, and the pain had a draining effect on his energy reserves. It often became so bad he had had to ask his two friends to leave and fetch Lilah.

He sighed, his breath leaving his lungs in a long wheeze.

None of his friends could understand his attitude. They were furious at the fate hand had dealt. He was young, he was a good man – if anyone deserved some good fortune, they had argued, surely it was Chris. Surely he should be upset at the injusticeness of it all, they pointed out.

He had agreed with them on the surface, knowing they couldn't possibly understand the complexity of the emotions he was feeling right now. Hell, he wasn't even sure himself if the utter lack of concern on his part was due to simple acceptance of the inevitable or almost a feeling of relief. Relief that someone else would have to be responsible, relief that someone else would have to shoulder the burden…relief that he could finally, selfishly, be free of all his obligations.

Horrid thought, that.

Dying just to escape my duties? You can't get more pathetic than that, Chris thought bitterly, his eyes closed as he rested. Regardless, they're just going to have to learn how to get along without me.

After all, he was dying.


Still furious from her conversation with Zankou, Kate continued to fume. She knew in her head she needed to calm down before returning to Valhalla. If her sisters saw her in this condition, she would have no hope in controlling their need to avenge the slight against them.

No, as she drew in a slow, deep, breath, Kate thought, I need to figure out what exactly is going on, what I'm going to do first and what Chris is up to exactly.

The moon overhead glowed brightly, illuminating the forest and its beauty with a glow from within. As she continued to stalk through the woods from her recent meeting with the demon, she could feel the calming effect the surroundings had on her.

Could Chris have promised the humans a part of Valhalla?

While her heart automatically said 'No!' her mind said differently. When she had first met Chris as the war with Wyatt had begun to emerge, she had always known he was a ruthless individual when it came to doing what he perceived to be right. Behind the cajoling and coaxing in his words, she had seen the steely-eyed determination bordering on zeal.

She had been hovering on the border of making the decision to join Chris and his cause. She had known the chances of the mortals surviving the round with Wyatt had been slim. But she wasn't going to form an alliance just because the humans needed it. No – she had to think of her sisters first.

Oh, she knew he had manipulated the information before it got to her – after all, she had years of wisdom in the way of war and human nature on him. But she had admired his sheer audacity that he could fool a valkyrie and the conviction in his heart that he was doing the right thing.

All in the name of protecting the lives of hundreds of thousands.

She had come to respect the young man. He was intelligent and he was brave –characteristics that she greatly admired.

She wondered what Chris would say if she told him she hadn't joined the Resistance out of goodness but rather her desire to keep her sisters safe.

She knew he would never judge her.

And she knew then she would give him the benefit of the doubt he would have given her if their roles were reversed.

Pain!

As her nerve endings exploded in her back, she lost control of her limbs. Collapsing to her knees, she gasped painfully, trying to speak. She gurgled, desperate to alert someone to her situation…but all that bubbled forth was blood.

Falling forward onto her hands, she felt the pain spread quickly through body like a brush fire, consuming everything in its path and leaving her only with the feeling of white-hot searing pain.

She blinked stupidly, the darkness overwhelming her, swallowing her whole.

What the fuck–?

Her face hit the ground.

She could smell the fresh pine.


As soon as she materialized, Piper didn't waste a moment, whirling on Les and demanded, "What the hell is going on?"

Piper gave the area a cursory glance, noting the familiar walls. She vaguely remembered talking with Chris here, in this small room with the maps tacked against the walls and the incredible stacks of paper weighing down the nearby desk. Perhaps a sign of the passage of time, but the desk's surface was clean; although maps were still pinned to the wall, the desk stood litter free.

"Funny," Les remarked, sarcasm prevalent in his tone, "I thought that was my line." He stomped around the desk to gaze at them furiously from behind it, not bothering to mask his irritation. He crossed his arms across his chest, resembling a petulant child.

"Where's Chris?" Not the least bit intimidated, Paige stated the obvious question hovering in all of their minds, "And why hasn't the future changed?"

"Maybe that's a question you should ask yourselves," came the short reply from the telepath.

"And maybe we should ask Chris," Leo replied evenly, his eyes never leaving Les.

"He's not available," Les stated tonelessly, his expression carefully blank.

Piper watched with interest as his eyes fell abruptly away from Leo's. Experienced in the ways of reading body expressions as a mother of two little boys, Piper's eyes narrowed. Clearly, Les knew something and wasn't intending on sharing. "Where's Chris?" Better to throw down the gauntlet now and find out where everyone stood, she reasoned.

Hoping to avoid answering, Les tried to distract Chris' mother, saying instead, "We need to get you out of here."

"Not until we've seen my son," Piper insisted, her mouth set in a mutinous line. Did he really think she would be so easily put off? "I repeat – where is my son?"

"He's busy," Les hedged, his eyes shifting from side to side as he tried to buy some time.

"Too busy to see his family?" Piper's eyebrows shot up in disbelief, "I highly doubt it. Either you tell me where my son is, or I'll go looking for him myself!"

"Look, Piper –,"

"Chris! Chris!" Piper began to call her son's name. "Answer me this minute, young man!"

"If you would just –," Les tried again.

"Leo, can you sense him?" Piper asked her husband, who tilted his head to one side. Hollering now, "Chris!"

Leo shook his head, "I think…I'm having a hard time sensing him. But I think…something's wrong."

Alarmed, Piper grasped her husband's arm, rounding on him in agitation, "Wrong? What do you mean, wrong?"

Again, Leo shook his head slowly, as if puzzled, "I'm picking up on him…but it's weak. Faint, almost. It's making it difficult for me to narrow down…"

"It's probably because your senses are all screwed up from being in the future," Les injected quickly.

Phoebe blinked before saying quietly, "You're lying."

Anger fuelled by fear quickly swamped Piper, causing her to stalk over to the telepath and clutching both of his arms to give him a little shake, "Where is my son?"

"Piper!" Paige came forward to restrain her sister, alarmed at Piper's behaviour, "Take it easy."

Shoving Paige's hands away from her, Piper came nose to nose with Les, who was wincing under Piper's hard glare, "Don't you tell me to take it easy! Something is going on with my son, and he knows! I want answers and I want them now!" As if to emphasize her displeasure, she jabbed her index finger into Les' chest with each word to punctuate her point.

Shooting a glance at the whitelighter standing uncomfortably in the corner, Les said quietly, "Leave us."

A quick nod and the whitelighter orbed out, leaving the Halliwells and Leo alone with Les in the small room.

"Well? What is it that you couldn't say in front of that guy?" Piper demanded, still angry.

Her empathy kicking in, Phoebe could suddenly feel the swirl of emotions emanating from Les. Grief. Sadness. Pity. Phoebe shook her head in disbelief. She staggered backwards, her hands rising as if to feebly ward off the feeling of dread, groaning, "No…"

Quickly coming to her sister's side, Paige steadied Phoebe by grabbing onto Phoebe's arms. She swallowed, "Phoebe?"

Whipping her head to look at her sister, Piper asked, concerned, "Phoebe? What's wrong? Are you okay?"

Silent tears bubbled forth, leaking from her eyes to stream down her face. Phoebe swiped at them furiously, her eyes locked on Les', whispering hoarsely, "It's not me, Piper."

Thoroughly alarmed, Piper slowly swivelled her head to stare at Les, aware that Leo was also focusing on the telepath. "Les? What's going on?"

Visibly upset, Les reined in his emotions with an enormous effort, knowing if he didn't suppress them, Phoebe's power would continue to assert itself. His eyes never leaving Phoebe's, Les shook his head imperceptibly. His voice was curiously flat, "I think…I think you should come with me."


The darklighter contemplated the body beneath his foot. Pulling out his arrow rather carelessly, he rolled the valkyrie's body over with his foot onto her back. Leaning down, he gently picked up the pendant lying on the now still chest of the warrior woman. Carefully, he wrapped the silver chain around his fist and with one brutal yank, he ripped away the valkyrie's heritage. Pocketing the object of his kill, he knelt down next to the valkyrie, picking up the body in his arms. Looking to his left and then his right, the darklighter grinned in satisfaction as his eyes alit on the perfect spot a few metres away. Shifting the weight of his kill in his arms, he slowly walked towards the edge, his breath laboured.

He stood on the damp ground, his eyes carefully watching the reflection of the moon in the lake in front of him. The lake seemed to stretch for miles, the late hour making it difficult to see beneath the surface. Grimacing, he stepped into the watery grave, the water splashing against him as he continued to walk forward.

When the water reached his waist, the darklighter stopped. Looking down into his arms at the still warm body, Kate's face was peaceful, giving the appearance that she was merely sleeping. He lowered his arms until they were under the water's surface, and with a gentle push, he let go.

He watched as the pale face of the valkyrie slowly disappeared from his sight, sinking into the inky blackness of the lake.

Satisfied no trace of the valkyrie remained, the darklighter dissolved in a swirl of black orbs.


At the Resistance's headquarters…

Although they had only spent a brief time in the Resistance's base during their last impromptu visit to the future, Leo had no trouble recognizing the steel halls for what they were. As Les continued to lead them through the winding corridors silently, Leo began to feel the dread building in his stomach with every step they took.

However, the feel of the base was significantly different from before; whereas before, the base had been buzzing with activity and had seemed almost…alive…now…now it felt like they were the only ones around.

Casting his gaze over the sisters, he noticed that Paige seemed to be lost in her thoughts and Phoebe was, curiously, silent. Piper, like himself, was tight-lipped. Les' refusal to discuss Chris any further than the few words exchanged back at command central and coupled with Phoebe's emotional outburst only confirmed both his and Piper's suspicions that all was not well.

But I can feel Chris, Leo argued with himself, trying to ignore the bleak feeling in his heart. Granted, it's…faint. But he's here. And he's alive. So things didn't change. Yet. At least we know. And maybe there's still a chance we can fix things.

He exchanged another worried glance with Piper; he didn't need to be a telepath to know she was devastated that the future, and their sons' fate, hadn't changed. Every step echoed loudly in the empty metal halls, serving to remind them of the sterile future that awaited their children.

Another turn and the group entered a hallway that seemed to stretch for miles ahead. Taking in his surroundings, Leo noted the wooden doors, many with names slotted in a placeholder stuck to the front of the door. Abruptly, Les came to a halt, stopping in front of a door marked "Chris Halliwell."

Rather than knocking on the door in front of him as Leo expected Les to do, the telepath turned to face Chris' family. As if weighing the words he was about to say, Les said carefully, "You should…prepare yourselves."

"Prepare ourselves for what?" Paige asked, confused and irritated all at once. "What is with all the cloak and dagger stuff anyways?"

Les shook his head, "Chris hasn't shared with anyone except for a few of us on his…condition."

"Condition? What do you mean condition?" Fear caused Piper's voice to rise with an octave with each word. Leo placed his hand on Piper's shoulder, hoping to convey her the comfort she needed. Piper, in turn, raised her hand to cover his, giving it a slight squeeze as if to say, thanks.

Rather than answering, Les merely shook his head. And at that moment, that flash of expression that flitted across Les' face so quickly that he thought he might have imagined it, that Leo began to feel his heart rise into his mouth. Full of sympathy, it told Leo everything he had dreaded – that whatever Chris' condition was, it wasn't good.

Rapping on the door briefly, Les called out, "Chris. It's me."

A cough. Then a weary, "Come in."

Opening the door, Les indicated to the family to precede him. Stepping over the threshold, Leo paled significantly. The harsh white fluorescent lights revealed two people, one an older woman, clearly a whitelighter given the golden glow coming from her hands as she healed her patient, and the other, her patient. Chris.

"Chris?"

"Mom?"

The thin reedy word definitely coming from Chris' lips, though it didn't sound like anything she had ever heard from her son's voice before.

Unable to say a word, Piper stood staring at the horrific wreck of a human being that was her son. Chris was currently seated on a couch, huddling in blankets, shivering and looking as sick as a dog. Behind her, she could hear her sisters' gasp as they all crowded into the room and caught a glimpse of the ill young man. Her hands came up to her mouth, and she could only stare in disbelief.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Chris demanded, his voice weak but no less angry.

Feeling his family's eyes trained upon him clearly in shock, Chris, in no mood to be pitied, snapped, "Are you finished staring? If you are, then you can turn around and get the hell back to your own time." Swinging his eyes to narrow on his friend, he accused, "And what the hell were you thinking, Les? Get them out of here. Now." He punctuated his displeasure with a deep cough.

"Chris," Lilah reprimanded her friend softly, gently supporting him as he continued to hack and heave.

Even from where Leo was standing, he could see the changes that had wrought in Chris since they had last parted. His son's skin was a sickly yellow, his hair lank and flat against his head. As his green eyes blazed across the room to meet his, Leo saw the sunken cheeks and heavy circles under Chris' eyes, giving his son's face an almost skeletal appearance.

In short – he hardly resembled the wise-cracking, energetic young man Leo had come to know and love.

Before Les could defend himself, Phoebe leapt to his defence, "Don't blame him. He didn't want to bring us here. But Piper and Leo…we…came to the future because we needed to see you."

Shoving himself up and away from the couch where he had been sitting on, Chris' gaze shot daggers at his aunt, saying brutally, "Why?" Standing, Leo could see Chris' clothes seemed to hang from his skinny frame, indicating he had lost significant weight.

"Because…because we needed to know you were going to be…are…okay," Paige finished lamely.

"Obviously, I'm not," Chris snorted, his steps slow and measured as he circled his family like an animal stalking its prey.

Suddenly snapping out of her stupor, Piper pushed her way to Chris' side. Although she didn't mean for it to sound so, concern inflected her voice, causing it to come out shrilly, "What's wrong with you?"

"Oh, just a really bad cold, I think," Chris winced, and promptly started to hack.

Piper looked up at him with dubious eyes. His dark hair was molded to his head, his forehead was beaded with sweat, and his skin seemed to be mottled. Putting her hand to his forehead, she recoiled instantly at the heat emanating from him. She accused him sharply, "That is not a cold!"

Pushing his way into the room, Leo looked down at his son in alarm, "Piper? What's wrong with him?"

Chris shrugged. "Nothing's wrong. I'm feeling just peachy, thanks." He then spoiled the effect by having another severe coughing fit.

Paige's eyebrow rose, "Isn't that my line?"

"What? You got a patent on it or something?" Chris asked sardonically, clutching his side. He groaned as he struggled to remain standing.

"Son," Leo's voice was hoarse with concern, "What…what's happened?"

Chris shrugged, choosing to avoid answering.

Staring into the fevered eyes of his son, Leo could feel his heart shrink. In the corner of his eye, he could see Piper, who was sobbing quietly. Preparing to reject anything less than the truth, Leo managed to croak, half-demandingly, "Chris – what's wrong with you?"

The silence in the room grew as all the occupants held their breath, waiting for an explanation. Leo's voice had broke no argument. Letting his breath go in a long, slow, hiss, Chris closed his eyes briefly, before confessing, "I…it's hard to explain."

Choking back her sobs, Piper raised her tear ravaged face to stare into her son's deliberately expressionless face, "Just tell me…just tell me you're going to be all right. That you're going to be just fine."

A pause, and Leo felt himself cringe as Chris responded to Piper's request. His son's voice was low, each word spoken slowly as if he were measuring each one out carefully, as if the truth were something to be doled out cautiously.

"I can't tell you that."

"Explain yourself, Christopher," Piper's tone did not give him an option to disobey.

Opening his mouth to respond, Chris suddenly doubled over in pain. Spasms ran up and down his spine, and he began to cough uncontrollably. Blood dripped from his mouth, his dry heaving leaving him weakened. Alarmed, Piper threw a glance at her husband, as Leo rushed to his son's side, his hands aglow.

Chris continued to hack and cough.

"Why isn't it working? Why aren't you healing him?" Piper asked anxiously.

"I don't know," Leo responded, puzzled. "It should work. If something was blocking me, I'd feel it. But it feels like it should be working." He threw a desperate glance at Lilah, who could shake her head sadly, "Why isn't it working?"

Regaining control over his body as the spasms died away, Chris shook his head weakly. Pushing Leo's hands away, Chris whispered, his throat dry, "It won't work. You can't heal me. No one can."

"Chris? What are you talking about?" Piper traded glances with her sisters and Leo. "What do you mean, 'no one can'?"

Sighing, Chris met his mother's concerned gaze, knowing he had to tell her the truth, no matter how much he didn't want to. "I'm dying, mom."

Gasps from Phoebe and Paige reached Leo's ears as he watched Piper sink to the floor in defeat. His wife's arms were wrapped around herself, as she rocked herself back and forth, shaking her head in denial. Crouching down next to his distraught wife, Leo's eyes locked with his son's over Piper's head, and he saw the resignation in Chris' gaze. Licking his dry lips, Leo could only plead, "Why?"

Chris' mouth quirked in a self-deprecating smirk, "Time travel. It can really turn around and bite you in the ass."


In the Underworld…

Zankou stared at the valkyrie's pendant, the jewel winking hypnotically from the firelight in the dark cavern. He smiled, allowing his gaze to shift to the deeply bowing darklighter in front of him. "You have done well."

The darklighter didn't look up, "Thank you, my lord."

"I will reward you as promised," Zankou leaned back in his throne languidly, still toying with the jewel, "but first…"

The darklighter's shoulders stiffened, but he said nothing.

Zankou let the chain slip through his fingers as he held out the pendant to the darklighter, "But first…I need you to do one more thing for me…"


To be continued…