A/N: Bjoernar Haakensmoen and Norway – we owe you one!

Sorry for the delay – sometimes the words cometh and sometimes they don't.

Re: Zach in the previous chapter – I think Zach first made his appearance in the season 6 episode, The Legend of Sleepy Halliwell. I introduced him into the 'No Fate' universe in No Fate (chapter 11) and the character popped up again in Providence (chapter 6).

And on a more personal level…

Thanks so much to everyone who has been interested in this story and takes the time to leave me feedback: keisha, Charmed Ravenclaw, Sensue, chattypandagurl, Icantthinkofaname, Sparkling Cherries, charmedtomeetyou, Zeria – you all force me back to the computer even when I've sworn off it.


The End of All Things

Chapter 13


The room, at most eight by eight, was fitted with a table and couple of chairs. The unreliable electricity caused the lights to flicker incessantly, emanating a low humming to add to the white noise.

DJ and Michael casually took a seat while Kyle moved to lean against the wall in the far corner. Similar to an interrogation room in their former police headquarters, DJ noted dryly that the only thing missing to complete the replica was the standard two way mirror. He quirked an eyebrow at his brother who smiled back grimly, the two correctly reading the other's expression and interpreting what the other was thinking as only brothers could do.

"Get your hands off me, you stinking traitors!"

Scuffling noises were heard outside before the door was opened abruptly to reveal Dan and Greg half dragging, half carrying the prisoner. On either side of the struggling man, Dan and Greg roughly manhandled their captive into the empty seat across from the two brothers. Grimacing as a particular foul curse greeted his ears, DJ nodded imperceptibly to his two friends, indicating he would take over. The two guards hastily removed themselves from the room, grateful to let someone else deal with the agitated inmate, even if only for a little while.

Jeremiah eyed the three Resistance followers warily as he spat, "What the fuck do you want?"

DJ looked him in the eye, "How's the leg?"

Though seated, it was clear from his expression that Jeremiah was obviously still experiencing pain; slowly he repositioned his broken leg, dragging it closer towards him before asking sourly, "What's it to you?"

Michael shrugged, "Kyle here is a whitelighter. He could fix that right up for you."

Shooting a look of hatred in the direction of the whitelighter, Jeremiah retorted, "You tell that cockroach to stay away from me, you hear?"

Exchanging a covert glance with his brother, D.J. proceeded to lean forward, "Let's just cut to the chase, Jeremiah. We can do this the hard way or the easy way. Me, I prefer the easy way but my brother here has always been partial to the hard way. You tell us what we want to know and I'll keep him and the whitelighter away from you."

"You think I'm scared of you fuckers?" Jeremiah spat in D.J.'s face. "What do you think about that?"

Slowly, D.J. wiped the spittle from his face, saying menacingly, "You are going to tell me everything you know about Zankou. Right now."

"Screw you," Jeremiah drawled insolently, not impressed by one iota of D.J.'s good cop/bad cop routine.

Nodding at his brother, Michael came around the table and shooting out with his arm, he quickly put Jeremiah into an uncomfortable headlock. The chair legs squealed against the concrete floor as Jeremiah kicked pathetically in protest, sending the chair across the floor barely a few feet. Tightening his grip ruthlessly, Michael watched dispassionately as the prisoner's face began to turn an alarming shade of purple and his hands clawed desperately at Michael's hold. At D.J.'s signal, Michael abruptly released his chokehold.

Jeremiah gasped and coughed, tears streaming from his eyes as he sucked in much needed air, collapsing back into his seat. His face full of fury, he looked up at D.J.'s threatening face before yelling hoarsely, "Fuck you!"

D.J. sighed before signalling his brother. Again, Michael encircled Jeremiah's neck with a rough chokehold, unmoved by the prisoner's feeble attempts to wrest his way free.

Uncomfortable with the way the line of questioning was heading, Kyle pushed himself away from the wall and moved towards D.J. Careful to keep his back to the sight of Michael choking the life out of Jeremiah, he leaned in, whispering in D.J.'s ear, "Is this really necessary?"

"Of course," D.J. replied evenly, his eyes never leaving Jeremiah's. "We don't have time to do this nicely, you know that."

Sneaking a quick glance at the victim's ruddy face as he choked for breath, Kyle abruptly turned away. He headed back to his corner, keeping his eyes carefully averted.

"So what's it going to be, Jeremiah?" D.J. stood up, leaning forward on his hands to stare down into the prisoner's eyes. "You going to talk?"

His eyes wild, Jeremiah tried to speak, unable to emit anything more than a squawk as Michael's stranglehold tightened.

D.J. eyed Jeremiah dispassionately, "I can't hear you."

His eyes bulging, Jeremiah nodded vigorously (or as much as Michael's hold would allow him). Abruptly, Michael released his grip and Jeremiah rubbed his throat, sucking in the air and wheezing as he tried to bring his breathing back to normal.

Calmly handing him a glass of water, D.J. watched as Jeremiah greedily gulped it down. Shooting his tormentor a sour look, he turned his attention back to D.J., saying hoarsely, "What do you want to know?"

"How exactly did you and Zankou first start your association?"

Jeremiah shrugged, "Asshole approached me. Said we could do great things together."

D.J. looked sceptical, "For someone who claims to hate magic, you were pretty fast to get on that bandwagon."

Jeremiah glared at D.J., still unconsciously rubbing his raw throat, "You think I'm an idiot? I told that piece of shit to go fuck himself." As D.J. continued to look at him sceptically, Jeremiah blurted defensively, "I did! At first."

"So what changed?" Kyle's voice from the corner interrupted.

"He could get me stuff I didn't have access to," Jeremiah studied his fingers. "Stuff I needed if we were ever going to take our city back."

"Back from who?" Michael interjected, genuinely puzzled.

"From all you traitors!' Jeremiah suddenly shouted, almost rising out of his seat. Only his broken leg kept him from standing upright. "You think I don't know about you? You and your kind – sympathetic to these fuckers." He pointed an accusatory finger at Kyle. "It's these bastards who are slowly taking over our cities and our lives. One day you're going to wake up and they'll be in charge of everything!"

D.J. swore, "Jesus Christ."

"Yeah! So when Zankou offered me the goods, I took it. So what? You think I care about that asshole? That I'm working with him? Once we drove you bastards out, I would have popped him too," Jeremiah continued to rant, almost frothing at the mouth in rage.

"You're an idiot," Michael retorted, still stunned with disbelief at the rationalizations and justifications the man was spouting.

"Fuck you, traitor," Jeremiah spat back. "You're as big an asshole as they are. Maybe even bigger because you can't see past their actions to their agenda. You're just a poor sap taken in by their lies."

Kyle shook his head as he murmured softly, "Unbelievable."

Slamming his hand down in frustration, D.J. brought the conversation back to the topic at hand, "Tell me how you'd meet up with Zankou. How you arranged to speak with him."

Jeremiah looked sullenly around the room. As Michael made another threatening gesture at him, Jeremiah jerked backwards. He looked at D.J. sullenly, "Phinks. I set my meetings up with Phinks."

Trading significant glances with his brother, D.J. questioned, "How did you get in touch with Phinks?"

Jeremiah shrugged, "I'd go to the east gate, just outside the perimeter and wait for him. He shows up every week or so at the same time, same place. If I'm not there, he knows I'm busy and he'll check back the next week."

Kyle jerked his head in the direction of the door, stepping outside as his two companions quickly joined him. "Well, what's your read?"

D.J. shrugged, "I think he's telling the truth- the dilated pupils, the slight sweating. All signs that he's nervous which would support the theory he's trying to hide something."

Michael nodded, "I agree. I'm getting the same vibes off of him." He glanced down at his wristwatch. "We don't have that much time left. It's going to be awhile before we can break him."

DJ agreed, "Michael's right. Kyle – go back to base and tell Chris what we've gotten so far. Then orb your ass back here."

Kyle nodded, "You two sure you'll be okay by yourselves?"

The two brothers glanced at each other before Michael answered, "We'll be fine. Just hurry back, okay?"

Casting one final look towards room holding the detainee, Kyle nodded at the two brothers one last time. "All right – I'll be back in a bit. Just…watch yourselves."


As was his habit, Chris retreated to the one place where he knew he could be alone.

So what am I suppose to do now? The bombshell his parents had dropped had thrown him for a loop. Christ – I don't know if I'm angry that they didn't get rid of the blasted thing or relieved to know that the future can still be saved…

"I knew I'd find you here," Darryl's voice interrupted his thoughts.

Chris looked over his shoulder to see Darryl looking at him sympathetically. With a wave of his hand, Chris invited Darryl to take a seat and scooted down the well-worn park bench to make room. Located outside the perimeter of the base, Chris and Bianca's spot was still a desolate, deserted park – the perfect place when one wanted to be alone.

Absently brushing off the withered leaves from his potential seat, Darryl sighed as he sank down, stretching his joints. Clasping his hands behind his head, he leaned back, taking in the sunset. He glanced over at Chris without turning his head, catching the young witch-whitelighter chewing on a piece of grass in his peripheral vision. "You okay?"

His elbows resting on his knees as he gazed out at the landscape, Chris chewed thoughtfully, "I don't know."

"I saw your parents earlier," Darryl continued, his tone deliberately casual. "They seemed upset."

Chris shrugged silently, his focus still on studying the contrasting colours of the sky as the brilliant purples and pinks of the evening light chased away the orange of the setting sun.

Darryl mentally sighed – it was clear to him that Chris was not in the mood to talk. Offering the advice anyways, Darryl hedged, "Your parents…they're good people, Chris. You know that. That's why you've been fighting so hard to save them…to save Wyatt. Whatever it is they've done or you think they've done – just remember, they're not perfect."

Spitting out the long piece of grass, Chris replied tonelessly, "They didn't destroy Excalibur."

Momentarily shocked, Darryl quickly swallowed as he roused himself from his surprise, "They…they what?"

Chris broke off his gazing and turned to face Darryl, his facial features carefully schooled not to betray his inner thoughts, "I said – they didn't destroy Excalibur."

Darryl's response was woefully inadequate, "Oh."

Chris snorted lightly, "Oh, indeed."

"Maybe…maybe they had a good reason for that?" Darryl asked hopefully.

"More likely not," Chris replied sardonically. Bitterness crept into his voice, "All this time…I've been working under the assumption that they had gotten rid of it. That they knew how important it was to me…to us…" Chris shook his head, "I can't believe this."

Recovering from his shock, Darryl managed to focus his thoughts as he carefully analyzed the situation, "They can still go back and fix this."

Chris said simply, "Yep."

Though Chris didn't give any outward indication, Darryl knew the young man was upset. Reaching out to pat Chris awkwardly on the knee, Darryl imparted some advice gleamed from his years of experience, "Don't be mad at them, Chris. They obviously had a reason and no matter how misguided it may seem to us – it made sense to them." He paused as he waited for some response from his friend who merely shrugged. Darryl continued, "They're young, Chris. Only a few years older than you right now. Okay, well, maybe not Leo. But they're bound to make mistakes. Like I said, they're not perfect. They're your parents."

Chris shot Darryl an unreadable look, "I know that. Believe me, I found out pretty quickly in the past just how 'not perfect' they really are. It's just…"

"Yes?" Darryl prompted.

"I guess…as a kid growing up, I thought Mom could do no wrong. Or my aunts. I honestly thought they were…I guess for lack of a better word – perfect. And I know that my memories are obviously not accurate in that way but at the same time…they were my heroes," Chris said softly as he reflected on his past. "And now, relating to them as an adult – it's completely weird. It's like, all these things I never knew about them are coming to light and casting a completely different view of them than my memories. Like they aren't the heroes I remembered them to be…and maybe they never were."

"Chris – take it from someone who's known your family for a very, very long time," Darryl smiled gently. "They may not be perfect…" Darryl paused significantly to let his words sink in, "but they are definitely heroes."

Chris nodded slowly. Crossing his arms, he leaned back against the bench to look up at the sky. As the evening was creeping forward, twinkling stars could be seen up above. Another day gone…, he thought. "What do I do now?"

"We stick to the plan," Darryl answered, gathering his coat around him more securely as the temperature began to drop as the sun disappeared from the purpling sky. "Think you can do that?"

Chris shivered as the air turned brisk, asking rhetorically, "Don't really have a choice, do I?"

"Not at all," Darryl agreed affably, effectively lightening the moment.

"Haha," Chris responded sourly. Giving the darkening sky one last gaze, Chris tugged on the sleeves of his jacket in an useless effort to cover his exposed hands, "We'd better get inside before it gets even colder."

Standing, Darryl offered the young man a hand up, the irony of the senior citizen assisting a young man supposedly in the prime of his life not lost on him. He said nothing as Chris gratefully grasped Darryl's hand and watched as the young man pulled himself up slowly, getting unsteadily to his feet.

"Lilah or Ben give you a timeframe?" Darryl asked, his voice catching slightly with emotion before he was able to smooth it over.

"No," Chris began to walk slowly over to the tunnel to head back to base. "But I'm hoping at least until this crisis is over."

"That…that quick?" Darryl stumbled over the question, mentally taken aback. Oh – he knew Chris was dying…but still. He had thought they had months left. Weeks, even. Not days…never days…

His shoulders slightly hunched and his back still to his friend, Chris' voice was surprisingly clear, "Darryl. We have to fix this before…before I can't." A pause and then, softly, "I don't…I don't want to leave unfinished business…" Chris turned slightly so Darryl could see his profile, "Or any more unfinished than it already is."

It was unspoken between them but Darryl had come to know his young friend as well as his own sons. Swallowing his tears, Darryl gave Chris the promise the young man so desperately needed to hear, "I swear – we'll finish this together."

Nodding, Chris waited for his friend to catch up and silently, the pair slowly headed back to base.


Chris has a job to do and he knows it. Maybe it's time you do yours.

Though she knew Darryl had been right, the harsh words still stung deeply. It would be easy to disregard everything she knew was true and focus her efforts on saving her son. As she had stated numerous times nothing…nothing was more important than family.

And yet, in her heart of hearts, she had to admit…maybe…just maybe…that was no longer true.

As clichéd as it was, this was her fork in the road, her time to decide which path to follow – could she really choose her responsibilities over her family? Did some things simply transcend the individual? Was it right to set aside Chris' needs simply for the greater good?

Piper shivered unconsciously, Who would have thought that I would EVER use those words?

She struggled with her conscience; part of her despairing that in refocusing their efforts, she would be forsaking all hope for a cure to Chris' magical illness. The other part of her (the non 'mom' part of her) knew it was the right thing to do. Chris needed them to focus on Zankou and frankly, so did the rest of the world. That part of her was still more than a little in awe of her son's ability to ruthlessly push aside anything that wasn't directed towards those efforts. How does he do it? Piper wondered sadly. How does he have the strength to make these sacrifices all in the mere hope of a better world while I can barely think past what will happen to him?

And that was the reason Darryl's words had bit so sharply – they had been right on target. Chris continued to make the hard decisions, to put aside his own needs and wants in favour of the bigger picture because it was the right thing to do. And she, his mother, who supposedly would impart all her values and morals on him during his formative years, could barely see beyond her own need to protect her child. Until Darryl had pointed it out that she, a Charmed One, had a job to do, she had simply ignored her responsibilities and obligations as such. And she was deeply ashamed – after all, her son knew and accepted his destiny with nary a complaint while she continued to flounder and flop through hers.

"…spell should work," Paige was saying. "What do you think, Piper?"

Blinking, Piper shook herself as her sister's words brought her back to earth. "I'm sorry?"

Stepping forward, Leo wrapped his arms around her, obviously concerned. From the confused look on his wife's face, he assumed she was thinking of the abrupt exchange with Chris, "Piper? He just needs some time to digest but he'll come around. I promise."

Grateful for that small comfort, Piper nodded, "I know. I'm sorry for being so distracted. I should be more focused on helping you guys with this spell right now."

Phoebe impulsively reached out to squeeze Piper's arm, "It's okay. We know you have a lot on your mind." Reaching over to pluck the piece of paper out of Paige's hand, Phoebe handed the spell over to Piper, "We were just saying that Leo had it right. Or as right as we can remember it. You want to take a look?"

Nodding her thanks, Piper took a quick scan, her eyes flitting across the page, "That's what I remember too. So I guess this is it. This is going to need the Power of Three, you know," she looked over at her sisters as they agreed.

"Well then, it's a good thing we came to visit then," Paige smiled cheekily.

"Somehow, I don't think Chris will see it that way," Leo responded dryly as Phoebe rolled her eyes in response.

"So what now?" Piper asked, looking at her husband.

He shrugged, "I think we should take it to Chris. He wanted me to confirm with you guys that this is the right spell. I'm guessing he'll want to bring us all up to speed on the plan."

Piper nodded, "All right. Let's go find him."

Paige frowned, "If you guys don't mind, I'm going to stay here and see if I can write a better spell. I mean, obviously it didn't work that well since Zankou is still around."

"No, that's a good idea," Phoebe agreed, her brow furrowed as she frowned. "I'll give you a hand while the two parents track down their youngest."


Duncan rubbed his eyes wearily with his fist as he waited for Darryl's response. Upon returning from the aborted supply run, Duncan had immediately sought out Darryl to debrief him on the latest developments...including Zach's untimely death.

Darryl looked up from the report, his eyes sad, "I'm sorry to hear about Zach."

"Yeah," Duncan cleared his throat unnaturally. His mouth felt like it was full of sawdust, "I'm sorry as hell, too."

"Look Duncan, I'm not going to beat around the bush. We don't have time for that. I know you're hurting…we all are," Darryl started, his mind already focused on the next task.

"How the hell would you know how I feel? You weren't there," Duncan's voice cut harshly. Zach hadn't even been buried yet and Darryl was already moving forward, forgetting their friend and his sacrifice. Anger at the unfairness of it all made Duncan lash out at his friend, "He didn't bleed all over you….he didn't die in right in front of you."

"No, but regardless we've got bigger issues to deal with right now," Darryl replied coldly.

"Fuck that. You think I give a shit right now?" Duncan shot back bitterly, his mind still fresh with images of Zach's prone body bleeding all over the floor of the truck. He made a rude gesture before spinning on his heel, intent on leaving the small room, "Find someone else to do it – I could give a fuck."

"There IS no one else." Darryl quickly moved to block Duncan from exiting, stretching his arm across the doorway to effectively bar Duncan's path. "We need someone with your powers to do this mission and right now, you're at the top of the list."

Duncan closed his eyes. It never ends…"What do you want me to do?" his voice was resigned.

Darryl hit Duncan square in the chest with a bunch of papers, "It's all in the mission profile – you'll be backing up Chris."

Duncan's eyebrow rose, surprised. Whatever he had been expecting, it certainly hadn't been this. "Chris? Is he even well enough to do anything?" Thumbing quickly through the pages to get a general gist, Duncan swore, "This is suicide. Does he really think he can pull this off?"

"With your help," Darryl nodded. Placing a hand on the younger man's shoulder, Darryl revealed, "Duncan – Chris wanted me to be clear – ultimately it's your choice. He's well aware of how much he's asking of you. He wants you to know – he'll understand if you don't want to do this. Ben said he's willing to step up."

"Ben?" Duncan scoffed, well aware that their professor of magic hadn't seen the front lines during their recent conflict. "Besides our chances are significantly better with me in the driving seat," Duncan observed shrewdly as he assessed the magical requirements of the mission.

Darryl shrugged, allowing Duncan to draw his own conclusions.

Duncan felt his stomach drop in fear – the mission profile was risky, at best. And even if they succeeded, the chances of one of them, let alone both, making it out alive were…well, miniscule, to put it mildly.

He pulled away from Darryl to pace the room. Oh, it wasn't that he hadn't faced death before. But it was one thing to carry out duties and know the risk of death was there…but it was a whole other ballgame when you courted it. The fact of the matter was Duncan wasn't sure he wanted to risk his life anymore. It was funny, a mere eight hours earlier and he would have laid down his life, no question. But Zach was dead. Killed by the very people Chris wanted to risk their necks for now. Frankly, Duncan didn't owe them a damn thing.

But I owe it to Chris, Duncan thought unhappily. Hell, he owed it to each and every friend that he had lost over the years – Sheila, Quentin, Kate, Elise, Les…even Zach. They had all laid their lives on the line for something bigger than themselves, died for something and maybe…just maybe…he owed it to them to finish it.

Duncan thought of all the times Chris had put his own life on the line…that he still put on the line. Can I do any less?, he wondered. He'd always admired his friend – Chris had never asked anyone to do something he himself wouldn't do.

Including self-sacrifice.

He turned to face Darryl, ready to make his decision. The older man was watching him carefully and to Duncan's surprise he could tell Darryl was nervous. Darryl's shoulders were rigid, his expression carefully blank. It was obvious he was ready to accept Duncan's refusal.

Duncan's voice was gruff, "What time do I have to be ready to leave?"

Darryl's stance visibly relaxed as the knowledge of Duncan's acceptance helped to alleviate some of the pressure he had been under. "You leave at 0500 hours." Darryl glanced down at his wristwatch, "That leaves you about 4 hours to get your affairs in order and maybe catch a quick nap."

"Fine," Duncan tucked the mission profile into his back pocket. He'd review it back at his quarters after catching some shut eye. "Anything else?"

Darryl hesitated before reluctantly saying, "I don't want Chris to know about Zach yet – I don't want him to be distracted. Can you keep it to yourself for awhile longer?"

Duncan nodded slowly as he responded dully, "Fine." Pulling himself together, he nodded curtly at Darryl one last time and took his leave.

"And Duncan?"

He paused, his hand on the doorknob as he turned back to look at Darryl. "Yeah?"

Darryl's eyes were shadowed, his voice slightly hoarse, "Good luck."


They emerged from the holding cell only to be confronted by a fairly impatient looking Sheridan. Her eyebrow rose at the sight of the two men, "Where's the whitelighter?"

"Kyle?" D.J. shrugged. "We sent him back to base with some information we've gleaned so far. Why?"

She shrugged, "No reason. So learn anything?"

Michael exchanged a glance with D.J., "Jeremiah was working with demons."

Her shoulders slumping, Sheridan sighed, "I was afraid it was something like that. Christ." She rubbed her forehead wearily, "So what's the next step?"

D.J. shook his head, "I'm not sure. I mean, we've still got to prove Zankou is the mastermind behind the valkyrie's killing. It's one thing to know Jeremiah was working with him…it's a whole other thing to connect the dots all the way back to Kate's murder."

"All right," Sheridan crossed her arms. "I'll leave it to Chris to handle the situation. However, what I'd like to know is when you were planning on letting me know that the Charmed Ones are back."

"Oh, good God," Michael rolled his eyes. "Do we even need to get into this?"

"Considering they have the power to fix things, yes," Sheridan shot back, glaring at the two brothers. "We're talking about three of the most powerful witches in history. I think, after everything this city has gone through, you owe us an explanation!"

"Look, all I know is they're from the past and they came to check on Chris' future," Michael shrugged. "That's all I know." As Sheridan continued to stare at him sceptically, Michael protested defensively, "I swear!"

"I guess," Sheridan said doubtfully. "People are going to talk, you know. I wasn't the only one who recognized them the other day. There are rumours swirling all over the city that the Charmed Ones will return everything back to the way it was."

"I wish it were that simple," Michael said glumly.

"Yeah, well, so do thousands of others," D.J. snapped. "But it's not their responsibility – it's yours and ours. And you can tell your city that."

Sheridan sighed, "Relax, D.J. I'm on it. You know as well as I that it's only a small percentage of the population that's resentful of magic. Most folks are decent."

"Yeah, but it's the non-decent, violent ones that I'm afraid of," D.J. retorted quickly, irritation clearly written on his face. "It makes my job that much harder."

"I said, I'm handling it," Sheridan glared at D.J., indignation underlying her tone.

"Whoa, everyone back to their corners," Michael interjected weakly, stepping between the two. "Let's just concentrate on the valkyrie threat right now and worry about the other stuff after, okay?"

"Fine."

"Fine."

"Well, I'm not fine, but that's besides the point," Michael muttered under his breath. Scratching his head, he looked over at Sheridan, "Anything else?"

She shook her head as Michael quirked his eyebrow in his brother's direction.

Glancing down at his watch, D.J. said wearily, "It's getting late. And we still need to check out that spot Jeremiah said he used to meet his demon contact for clues."

Michael frowned, "You think we'll be able to find anything in the dark?"

Sheridan pinched the bridge of her nose, "Look guys, it's only another couple of hours till the sun rises. Why don't you give it a rest, catch up on some sleep and I'll have someone wake you as soon as it starts to become light out. A couple of hours sleep isn't going to kill you, is it?"

D.J. snorted, "It might. We've got about one day left to stop the valkyries."

Sheridan unfolded her arms, "No one's more aware of that than I. But you can't do anything for the next few hours so stop arguing and follow me. I'll show you where you can rest."

As D.J. opened his mouth to argue, Michael cut him off, "She's right. We could use a couple of hours to recharge." Clapping his reluctant brother on the shoulder, "Come on, D.J. I swear, as soon as the sun starts to rise we'll head over to that site, okay?"

Agreeing, D.J. turned to follow the already departing Sheridan leaving Michael in his wake. Glancing one last glance at the locked door to the holding cell, Michael sighed and turned on his heel to catch up with his two friends.


"Darryl!"

"Kyle!" Darryl blinked in surprise, not expecting to see the whitelighter so soon. "What are you doing here? Are D.J. and Michael back too?"

Kyle shook his head. "No. They sent me back to tell you Phinks is the missing link. Phinks was the one who was the go-between Zankou and Jeremiah."

Slowly Darryl nodded, absorbing the information. "I see."

"You'll let Chris know? I have to get back to the guys. I don't feel comfortable leaving them in San Fran on they're own," Kyle said anxiously, already beginning to orb out.

Darryl nodded, calling after his friend, "Go. I'll let Chris know."


What if it doesn't work? What if I can't prove to the valkyries that Zankou is behind it all? What if I'm can't stop it?

Dragging his hand down his face, Chris tried to push the negative thoughts aside. In the deepest recesses of his mind, he could feel his panic trying to seep through – pushing insistently through the cracks before he forcibly slammed the door shut on such thinking.

He drew in a deep breath, calming himself. If there was one thing he had learned during the war with Wyatt was that emotions were a hindrance rather than a strength – fear paralysed and panic distracted. At a certain point, you had to let go – you could plan and plot till you were blue in the face but one could never account for every single factor. Well, either it works out or it doesn't, Chris thought rather dryly before snorting sarcastically to himself. At least there's no pressure.

A knock on the door caused him to glance up. Seeing his parents in the doorway, Chris squashed the desire to grimace – he honestly didn't want to deal with them right now. But from the determined look on Piper's face, Chris knew that was wishful thinking on his part. He nodded at them, struggling to keep his voice carefully pitched and his face expressionless, "What's up?"

His parents exchanged glances, as if they were hesitant about answering before Leo cleared his throat rather noisily, "We..uh…wanted to talk to you."

Waving his hand to invite them in, Chris discreetly glanced at the clock on the wall. He still had time. Humouring them, he jerked his head in the direction of the table and chairs and invited, "Have a seat."

His mother smiled gratefully at him, pulling out the closest chair with Leo seating himself next to her. "How are you feeling?"

Chris shrugged, leaning against his dresser as he eyed his parents warily, "That's not what you're here to ask me, so let's just cut to the chase okay?"

Leo gave Chris a stern look, "Answer your mother."

Resisting the urge to revert to childish behaviour and stick his tongue out at them (what was it about his parents that made him want to act like a three year old?), Chris sighed, massaging his neck as he contemplated the best way to answer the question. Settling on the partial truth, his tone was casual, "Not any worse than before."

"But not better, either," Piper's question was more a grim statement.

Chris said nothing, silently acknowledging the truth in Piper's words. Instead, he sneaked a peek at the clock, "What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

His mother glanced back at Leo, who nodded encouragingly. Handing Chris a piece of paper, she nodded, "Phoebe, Paige and I looked over that spell to destroy Zankou. We think it will work – with the Power of Three backing it, it should work."

"Good." Chris shook his head, declining to take the spell, "You hold on to it. After all, you said it needs the Power of Three. Giving it to me isn't necessary."

Leo's eyebrow quirked upwards, surprised, "Aren't you at least interested in reading it over?"

Turning his back on his parents, Chris casually walked over to his nearby dresser. Again, he discreetly looked at the time. Opening one of the drawers he muttered, "I trust you."

"That's a first," Piper remarked dryly, shooting her husband a puzzled look who responded with a confused shrug of his own.

Removing something from the open drawer, Chris glanced back over his shoulder at his parents, "You make me sound like a control freak."

Piper's mouth twitched slightly, "More like neurotic."

"Am I ever going to live that down?" Chris rolled his eyes in exasperation. Slamming his drawer shut, he began to prowl the room. He shot his mother an unreadable look, making her feel uncomfortable, before asking, "Is that it?"

"Have you come up with a plan yet?" Leo asked, referring to Chris' idea of luring Zankou and decidedly ignoring Chris' obvious prompts to leave the room.

Realizing his parents weren't going to leave him alone any time soon, Chris decided to change tactics. Stopping his pacing briefly to fiddle with something on one of his shelves, Chris' voice was muffled as his back was still to his parents, "Yeah. Phinks."

"Phinks?" Piper asked in confusion. "Your demon informant?"

"The very one," Chris replied absently, moving around the table so that Piper and Leo had to crane their necks around to keep Chris in their line of sight. He was crouching down, poking at something with his back to them.

Leo addressed Chris' back, "So what about Phinks?"

Standing up, Chris wandered over to the other side of the room. Folding his arms, he leaned back against the wall. "So…Phinks is the weak link. He's the go-between Zankou and Jeremiah."

Piper shook her head, "I'm still confused. So?"

Snatching up a nearby object from his dresser top, Chris began to toss it in the air casually. "So, Zankou doesn't know we've caught Jeremiah yet. All I need to do is get Phinks to relay a message…"

"That Jeremiah wants to meet," Leo finished his son's thought, nodding approvingly. "That could work."

Rolling his eyes, Chris continued, "We get Phinks to tell Zankou Jeremiah wants to meet and we'll be waiting for the bastard."

"I don't know – it sounds rather dangerous," Piper frowned doubtfully. "What makes you think Phinks won't betray you?"

"I don't. He's a demon – it's in his nature to betray. But Phinks knows he's vanquish dust if he sells me out," Chris pointed out logically. "Anyways – that's the best plan we can come up with."

"I still don't like it," Piper said argumentatively. "What if Phinks sets you up with Zankou?"

Chris shrugged nonchalantly, "That's a chance we're going to have to take. Darryl and I decided that this was the best course of action to take."

"And exactly what action is that?" Leo scratched his head, not following. "You get Phinks to lure Zankou to the spot we talked about and then what?

"Then we trick him into revealing he was behind the attack on Kate," Chris outlined logically. "I've told Freyna to meet us there. She hears the truth and then we vanquish him."

"What if he doesn't fall for it?" Piper voiced worriedly. "What if we can't trick him into admitting he was the one who had Kate killed?"

"Then I'll have to convince him otherwise," Chris replied grimly, his eyes darkening.

"Chris – listen to yourself. There are too many holes in this plan. We need to rethink this. I don't think –," Alarmed at the change in Chris' demeanour, Piper started to say before Chris cut her off abruptly.

"We don't have time to think up another plan," Chris interrupted harshly, accidentally dropping the object he was playing with on the ground. Seeing the light of battle in his mother's eyes, Chris held up his hand to forestall further arguments, "Mom – trust me. We don't have a choice. We've got one day left. If we had more time, maybe we could come up with a better plan but…" Chris trailed off, before saying firmly, "But we don't so the plan as is still stands."

Piper's mouth snapped shut with a click as she agreed reluctantly, "You're right. But I still don't have to like it."

"That I'm right or the plan?" Chris quipped. Seeing the flash of ire in her eyes, Chris apologized, "Sorry – I have a tendency to make light of things in the most inappropriate times." His eyes briefly glanced at the clock on the wall as he checked the time again.

"Is there somewhere you have to be?" Leo asked straight out, a little irritated with Chris' obvious lack of focus on the conversation at hand.

"What?" Chris asked distractedly. Shaking himself lightly, he slid his hands into his pockets, palming the item he was searching for. He avoided his parents' eyes, moving towards the door.

"Are you even listening to us?" indignation was clear in Piper's voice. As Chris continued to ignore her, Piper felt her exasperation rise another level. "Chris!"

Finally coming to a stop, Chris slowly turned to face his mother as he crouched down. Looking up at her, he said merely, "I'm sorry."

"What are you sorry for –,"

Reaching into his pocket, Piper saw a flash of white before she realized what he had done. "Chris!"

The last stone in place, the magical cage created by the crystals Chris had been so carefully placing around the room flared up, trapping his parents inside.

Feeling her temper boil over, Piper said in a deadly voice, "You remove those crystals right now, young man!" How dare he!

Straightening, Chris shook his head. He took a step backwards, his wary gaze never leaving his mother's. "I'm sorry."

Alarmed at Chris' response, Leo came as close as the cage would let him. Carefully, he reached out before snatching his hands back as the magical prison crackled with electricity. He watched as his son seemed to almost steel himself, abruptly spinning on his heel and heading for the door. Desperate to stop his son before he left, Leo pleaded, "Chris, wait. Please. You can't do this alone."

His hand on the doorframe, Chris paused. His back still facing them, Leo could hear the regret in Chris' voice as he replied, "I have to do this alone."

"Zankou is extremely powerful!" Piper could hear the desperation in her voice. "Chris – listen to me! To us! The Power of Three – you said it yourself that the spell needs us to cast it!"

His voice was low, "Darryl and I talked about it. We have to make sure you get back to your own time and fix things there. We're going to have to make do without that spell."

Piper gaped in astonishment, "You can't mean that! You're no match for him!"

He turned slightly, enough so that his parents could make out his profile. Still keeping his face averted, Chris shook his head, "I'm sorry. I can't risk anything happening to you. It could change the future in even worse ways. You know that. It's too risky."

"Chris - wait!" Piper shouted, fear making her voice tremble as she desperately wracked her brain for an alternative. "Wait – please, just wait!"

His back stiffened as he paused on the threshold of the door. He turned back, his face half concealed by shadows, "Just – get rid of Excalibur, like you promised."

"Don't do this, Chris," Leo pleaded, his desperation evident in his voice. "Please…"

"It's for the best," Chris whispered. Taking the last step over the threshold of the door, he reached behind him to pull the door close.

The door shut.

They were trapped.


To be continued…

A/N: Holy cow that was a dog's breakfast to write – hopefully the rest of the chapters will be less painful!