A/N: This chapter went up a little faster since the last one because (1) the majority of it had been written awhile ago, mainly way back when I first started the fic and (2) it's a touch shorter than usual – just FYI: the next chapter will take a little longer since I haven't written any of it!

Thanks to all who left me such lovely encouragement: Zeria, charmedtomeetyou, Charmed Ravenclaw, shyeye, Icantthinkoffnick, mjp3, YamiTsubasa, Sabrina, Sparkling Cherries. If it weren't for you guys, I would never sit in front of the computer and type.


The End of All Things

Chapter 17


"I still can't believe that Jeremiah was possessed," D.J. grumbled as the two brothers dashed across the courtyard to head for the northern gate. "I mean, come on! Isn't that the first thing we should have looked for? I mean, how clichéd can you get?"

Michael didn't bother answering, knowing no response was required. Yes, they had been foolish. They'd assumed the world was still following the rules from before the war – exposing magic by either good or evil was frowned upon. But the world wasn't that way anymore, and it hadn't been for a long time. Just because Wyatt was gone, it didn't mean things would return to the way they were. More fool them that they thought it could.

Though they'd gotten an early start that morning, the position of the sun clearly looked to be well into the afternoon. The sun overhead beat down relentlessly, and Michael could feel the perspiration beading on his forehead. Within minutes, they had passed through the gates, shrugging off the border guards' questioning easily – their id cards that clearly marked them as humans sans magic giving them a free pass.

Jogging now, the two brothers' followed the perimeter of the city walls, heading towards the small clearing on the east side that the phantasm (as Jeremiah) had previously mentioned. About a hundred yards out D.J. came to an abrupt stop, causing Michael to bump into him from behind.

Biting off a curse, D.J. shoved his brother down, dropping onto the ground next to him, "Get down!"

"What the –," was all Michael got out before he saw the reason for his brother's strange actions. Ahead, Chris and Duncan were clearly locked in a battle to the death as they dodged fireballs and energy balls alike. Michael gaped at the figure's whose back was to them, his voice hushed with surprise, "Is that Zankou?"

"Who do you think?" D.J. snapped, his attention focused on the scene unfolding in front of them.

"We've got to help them!" Michael exclaimed, starting to get to his feet. He fell back abruptly as D.J. yanked him back down, protesting, "D.J.!"

"What are we going to do, you idiot?" D.J. shot at his brother. "That's a magical battle going on down there. How the hell do you think we're going to help?"

"We can't just sit around here and do nothing!" Michael yanked his arm back. He winced as he watched his friends barely dodge the magical missiles. "Those are our friends!"

"No one said we weren't going to do nothing," D.J. reached around to his back, slowly pulling the concealed weapon from his waistband. "But running into a fight half cocked isn't going to help them. We have to wait for the right moment."

Michael shook his head, "I never thought I'd say this, but it's not like our guns are going to have any effect on that demon. You mind letting me in on what you're thinking?"

Checking his clip, D.J. slammed it back into the chamber before saying, "I'm thinking the best we can help Chris is cause a distraction…get them back into the game. You ready to do this?"

Michael flinched at the steely eye look his brother levelled at him. Was he ready to do this? Not by a long shot. Fear clawed at his throat – not an unfamiliar feeling but unwelcome all the same. As a scout and a long time member of Chris' close knit circle of friends, Michael was well aware of the hazards of their 'profession', so to speak. He never thought he'd live forever but still…it wasn't like he ever thought he'd die either. Hell - this was Zankou they were about to seriously piss off. Not some low level phantasm. Not even some angry mob. This was the big time. Guns were useless – all they could do was buy Chris some time and hope to God their friend would finish the job. Michael knew it was now or never. His friends were counting on him… He cracked a travesty of a grin, his voice trembling slightly betraying his fear despite his best efforts, "Lead on. Age before beauty, after all."

D.J. nodded solemnly, his hand coming up to squeeze Michael's shoulder. No more words were exchanged – none were necessary. With a final glance in his brother's direction, D.J. suddenly rose up, gun blazing, shouting, "Get away from him!"

Running after his brother, his own pistol gleaming in the sunlight, Michael could only think…

Fuck forever…


He knew it before he did it.

There was no way the clash of two such powerful magics, Zankou's and the sword's, wouldn't result in a backlash of power.

I guess I should have known better, Chris thought ruefully, almost laughing aloud at the inanity of his own thoughts at such a critical time.

But really, had there been any other choice?

In that fraction of a second, before he plunged Excalibur into the demon, Chris knew there wasn't.

At least, not any choice that didn't end up all of them dying.

He practically hissed his satisfaction.

"Bite that, you ass."

Intense heat and light ricocheted outwards from the collision of fire and pure energy, causing Chris to drop the sword instinctively. As the light blinded him, he threw all his remaining magical energy into a shield, hoping against hope that it would be enough to protect his friends.

LIGHT!

He bore the full brunt of it – the fire, the heat…the backlash of power. It slammed into him like a Mack truck, stealing his breath, overloading his optic nerves and frying what little he had left of his nerve endings.

It hurt.

He wasn't even aware of hitting the ground, or the sound of running feet or his name being called across the clearing.

"Chris!"

Mom? He struggled weakly for a second, desperately willing his eyes to open.

Shit.

It hurt bad

Stubbornly, his eyes refused to open. He wanted to cry out in frustration. He wanted to answer that voice, answer that desperate call of his name but all he could do was lay twitching involuntarily in pain on the hard, burning ground.

He could feel the heat through his back, searing his flesh. Tears of fear and pain seeped beneath his eyelids but wouldn't flow over, searing his eyeballs with a sharp, stinging pain.

The darkness swirled up to claim him and suddenly, the pain seemed to dissipate.

Mom…I'm so sorry…


"Did you pick up the eggs?"

Chris shook his head, vaguely wondering where the voice was coming from…What the hell? He was standing in what appeared to be a living room, sounds of pots and pans banging together drifting in from what he suspected was the kitchen.

"Chris!" the voice insisted, female and very annoyed. "Did you forget the eggs? We've got less than an hour till dinner when our guests arrive."

"Uhhh…" still confused, Chris raised his hand to scratch his head only to realize he was holding a plastic bag.

The owner of the female voice suddenly appeared from the kitchen. Flipping her long brown hair over her shoulder, Bianca quickly stepped forward to take the bag from Chris' unresisting hands, "Oh thank God. I swear, I'm about to have a nervous break down. I should have known you'd remember." Another step forward and she kissed his cheek lightly, "Thanks."

Still not understanding what was happening, he nodded absently, following behind his beloved as she re-entered the kitchen. He wondered if it was a spell – maybe one of those illusions where he was trapped in an alternate universe of his desires.

Unpacking the groceries, Bianca tossed a look at him over her shoulder, "Are you okay?"

"I, uh…" Chris fumbled, not really knowing how to respond. Maybe something along the lines of 'No, actually, I'm not okay – I think this is all a fantasy and you're not real.' He could imagine that going over well.

Coming closer, Bianca reached out to press her hand against Chris' forehead. She frowned worriedly, "You don't feel hot."

Deciding to savour the moment for what it was (it had been so long, after all), Chris grabbed her hand before she could pull it away. He brought it to his mouth to kiss her palm tenderly, "Thanks for caring."

She grinned, pulling her hand free and giving him a playful shove, "None of that now! Your brother is going to be here any minute – we are NOT going to start something we can't finish."

Chris suddenly grinned back, his apprehensions disappearing as he found himself caught up in Bianca's smile. 'She always did have the most beautiful smile…Did? I mean, does…' Shaking his head clear of his murky thoughts, he focused on the object of his affection. He waggled his eyes wickedly, "Who says we can't finish?"

Laughing, she backed away, turning her back on him, "Oh no! I'm still basting the chicken and I've got to get the appetizers into the oven…"

Lost in the wonderful feeling of domesticity, Chris closed the distance between them, wrapping his arms around her from behind. He squeezed her tightly, whispering huskily in her ear, "Are you sure?"

"Am I sure about what?" Bianca whispered breathily as Chris nibbled on her ear. Unable to help herself, she turned in his arms to face him, pulling his head down for a long, heated, passionate kiss.

The doorbell suddenly rang.

Almost guiltily, Bianca gasped, springing back from Chris and breaking their embrace, her voice clearly panicked, "Oh God! They're early!"

"Probably a good thing," Chris sighed reluctantly, running his fingers through his mussed hair.

"Get the door, will you sweetie?" Bianca had already turned back to the oven, her attention back on cooking dinner.

As the doorbell rang again, Chris quickly hurried to the front door. Flinging it wide, he raised his right eyebrow in question, "Aren't you early?"

The blond haired witch grinned as he motioned his wife to enter ahead of him. "Isn't your shirt untucked?"

Scowling at his brother, Chris blushed slightly and hastily tucked in the offending garment. He nodded at his sister-in-law, "Seriously, I have no idea what you see in this guy."

She laughed, reaching up to give Chris a peck on the cheek, "He has a couple of good points. You just have to look for them." Giving her coat to Wyatt to take care of, she quickly excused herself to head to the kitchen to offer Bianca a hand.

"Yeah," a male voice said dryly. "Like with a telescope." Les stepped inside the hall, nodding at Chris. "Thanks for inviting me over for dinner – I haven't had a home cooked meal in ages."

"Any friend of Wyatt's is a friend of mine," Chris smiled at his brother's partner. Les was Wyatt's first partner on the force – the policeman a close friend of Darryl's as well. A witch himself, Les had been quickly accepted into the Halliwell's circle of friends. The fact that he was a witch as well made the burden of keeping Wyatt's secret easier for Chris' brother. Chris frowned as he realized D.J., Darryl's son and the Halliwell brothers' close friend, was not with them. "I thought D.J. was coming with you guys as well."

"Like you said, we're early," Wyatt shrugged nonchalantly, plopping down on the nearby couch and making himself at home. "We clocked out as soon as we could before Darryl could throw another case file at us. D.J. wasn't quite as quick – he said he should be here in under an hour though and that we could get started without him if we wanted."

Chris shook his head, "Nah. Let's wait. Besides, I don't think dinner's ready yet. Bianca just about had a fit when the doorbell went."

Putting his feet up on the coffee table, Wyatt quickly used his telekinesis to grab the t.v. remote. Within seconds, the t.v. was on, and the blonde began to flip through the channels with lightening speed. "How about a beer, baby bro?"

Glancing over at Les who nodded as well, Chris headed to the kitchen, cuffing the back of his brother's head lightly as he passed behind the couch, "Feet off the table, jerk. Bianca doesn't like it when you do that."

"Man, you are whipped," Wyatt grumbled, rubbing the back of his head.

Les chortled, "This from the man who had to buy tampons at the store yesterday."

Unable to hear Wyatt's retort as he nipped into the kitchen, Chris laughed to himself. Smiling at his fiancé and his sister-in-law, he grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge before blowing a kiss at Bianca on his way out. She rolled her eyes slightly, but nonetheless continued her conversation with Wyatt's wife.

Handing a beer to his brother and another to Les, Chris twisted the top off of his own. Taking a long drag of the cool liquid, he looked over at his friend who was studying him quietly. Glancing at Wyatt, who was completely engrossed in the football game, Chris nodded at Les, "Something wrong?"

Hesitation appeared on Les' face.

Chris cocked his eyebrow in Les' direction, "Spill. What's up?"

"I don't…I don't think I'm suppose to be here," Les whispered. "I don't…I don't think this is…right."

An unexplainable cold fear clutched at Chris' heart. Hadn't something seemed off earlier? Before he'd gone to the store? No. It was just his imagination…right? Chris shook his head, "What…what do you mean?"

Les' voice was low, obviously not wanting to draw Wyatt's attention, "I don't…I don't know, Chris. It's just…something…doesn't feel right."

About to open his mouth to dismiss his friend's concerns, images flashed through Chris' head. Images of Bianca dying, Les dying, fighting demons, burning houses, Wyatt dying by his hand…Excalibur…Feelings of doubt…fear…PAIN! Chris doubled over. It wasn't right…it was never right…

"Chris?" Wyatt's voice was worried as he leapt up from the couch to cross quickly over to his brother's side. "Chris, what's going on?"

Still bent over, Chris raised his head, locking eyes with Les and oblivious to everything else around, "It's supposed to be this way, isn't?" Chris asked, a little desperately.

Les smiled sadly, "Yeah. Yeah, I think it is…"


For a moment, time seemed to stand still.

The brilliant flash of white light blinding her, the stillness in the air making it difficult to breathe – it all contributed to a sense of…nothingness.

And then, when Piper was ready to collapse from the lack of air, something lurched

And time resumed its normal pace.

She blinked the spots away, her heart thundering in her chest – she and Leo had orbed in time to see Chris thrust Excalibur through Zankou's chest. And then her senses had been thrown to the wind, everything in her world going temporarily topsy-turvy until it snapped back into place.

She ignored the muted groans from her sisters, her eyes frantically sweeping the landscape before her, searching for her son whom she caught that brief glimpse of before everything had gone white.

She took in the scorched earth…the small crater created by the clash of power…the dying flames from the demon vanquish licking the sides of the burnt circle in the ground.

Her heart stopped as she realized the crumpled, still form lying in the centre was her son.

And for a moment she froze – paralysed at the sight of his still body, his face turned away from hers, his arms twisted above his head and his chest seemingly unmoving.

My baby…

"Chris!"

She was running towards him even before she finished the thought, tripping over herself as she rushed to his side. She was vaguely aware of Leo's hoarse shout and the sound of his running feet pounding behind her. She sank to her knees, ignoring the cloud of dust that threatened to choke her breath and the unnatural heat of the scorched earth as she skidded into the ground next to her son.

She gently laid his head in her lap, brushing the dirt away from his face. Still unconscious, he lay unmoving in her embrace. She swallowed the lump in her throat, her voice quavering, "Chris?"

His bleary eyes opened and looked up at her, "Mom?"

For a moment, she couldn't speak. His green eyes, always so brilliant, were dull and lifeless with pain. Her smile was watery as she desperately tried to swallow her fears, her voice husky with tears, "I'm here, baby."

"I was dreaming…Bianca, Les…" Chris' voice trailed off, as if lost in thought.

"What did you dream, baby?" Piper asked gently, the lump in her throat growing.

"We were having dinner…Wyatt…"

She heard the hint of wonder in his voice. "What? What about Wyatt?" Piper prompted, doing anything to keep him awake. Piper threw a desperate glance at Leo who was gently extending his hands over Chris' form.

Chris closed his eyes, ignoring her by answering her question with one of his own, "Did we do it? Is Zankou…gone?"

Piper could feel the tears well up in her eyes as she tried to joke pathetically, "What do you think?"

A pause and then, "I'm glad."

Uncertain, Piper's voice faltered, "Chris?"

"I…I didn't want to…die and leave unfinished…business," Chris' voice was barely a whisper.

"Don't you dare!" Piper commanded fiercely, the tears spilling over and running down her face. "Don't you dare talk like that, young man. You promised. You promised me everything would be okay." Her voice broke, "Don't you dare break your promise to me."

Chris' voice was weak, "I didn't. I won't. Because I know you'll fix things."

She could feel her heart crumple at the blind faith Chris was clinging to. Rather than answering him, she swallowed and looked at Leo in desperation. "Is it working?" Piper asked her husband anxiously as Leo frowned in concentration. The golden glow from his hands shone brightly, but it didn't seem to make any visible improvement in Chris' condition. "Leo?"

Leo shook his head, "I…I don't know, Piper."

Propping him up, Piper supported Chris against her as much as possible, letting him heavily lean on her like a dead weight. His skin felt cold and clammy; his lips were so dry they were cracked and bleeding. With every breath he took, she could hear a slight weezing from his chest. About to demand Leo tell her what was wrong, Piper's mouth snapped shut at the soft sound Chris emitted from his throat.

"Bianca?" Chris asked weakly, his eyes focused on something just beyond the horizon.

Looking over her shoulder in the direction that Chris was staring in, Piper could only see the setting sun, the orange sky and the ravaged landscape. But no Bianca. She gently touched her hand to her son's shoulder, "Chris?"

"Don't you see her?" his voice was a whisper. "She's standing right there…"

His eyes remained locked on something only he could see. Piper's heart swelled painfully as she watched him smile uncertainly. God, he looks so happy! Her eyes filling with tears, she glanced up at Leo, who was silently shaking his head, "Honey. Chris. Stay with me."

Struggling to sit up, Chris ignored the shooting pain screaming through his body. He smiled weakly, his eyes unwavering as they focused on the point just over his mother's shoulder. His voice trembled slightly, "I knew you'd come. I knew you would."

"Chris," Piper's voice was urgent, her grip tightening on him as he continued to ignore her. She tried again to focus his attention back to her, "Chris."

He reached out, his arm outstretched towards…something. "God, I've missed you." "I've missed you so goddamn much." His voice quivered slightly, "It's been so hard. Everything's just been…so goddamn hard without you…" Coughing, he pushed himself forward, attempting to crawl away from his mother and towards where Piper could only guess he believed he saw his fiancé.

Kneeling down in front of his son and blocking his way, Leo put both his hands on Chris' shoulders, effectively stopping him from moving forward, "Chris. Son. Listen to me. She isn't there." Leo choked, "She isn't there, Chris."

"Wait! Take me with you…please," Chris struggled weakly in his parents' arms, clearly alarmed. Leo and Piper exchanged baffled looks. "She's going to leave without me! Wait, Bianca! Please!"

"Chris!" Piper wrapped her arms around her son's upper body, trying to keep him still. "Chris! Stop it. You're going to hurt yourself!"

"Let me go! Let me go!" Chris continued to push futilely at the hands trying to restrain him. His eyes were unfocused now, his breathing in short gasps. He began to panic, almost hyperventilating as he suddenly began to plead, "Please. Please. Take me with you…I've been so lonely without you. Don't go. Don't leave me."

Piper clutched her son to her heart all the harder, her heart breaking as she realized just how far Chris was gone. "Please, Chris. Please. Listen to Leo. Listen to me! Please!"

Gasping now, Chris began to say hoarsely. "Please don't leave me here all alone. Please, Bianca. I don't want to be all alone…"

Shushing him like a small child, Piper was joined by Leo who wrapped his arms around both his wife and son. Piper's heart tore at the sound of Chris' plea. Futilely, she tried to reassure him, "Chris. You aren't alone. You'll never be alone."

Finally whatever he might have seen disappeared from his sight and his eyes returned to focus. Chris could only whisper in desperation, "Come back. Come back." All the energy seemed to drain out of him and he fell back into his parents' arms in defeat, his voice dying, "Come back…"

Smoothing his hair back from his damp forehead, Piper could feel the tears running freely down her cheeks. Trying to comfort him, she pressed a hard kiss against her son's damp brow, "Listen to me, Chris. You'll see her again. I promise. Just…not right now."

Chris began to shiver uncontrollably, "I'm so cold…"

"Leo?" Piper's eyes were red-rimmed and watery as she met Leo's worried gaze.

That one look was enough; she could see in her husband's eyes the reflection of everything that she was feeling as well. Unable to answer, Leo shook his head slowly. Squeezing his eyes shut, he kept his arms wrapped tightly around his family, as if desperately trying to channel his strength into them all. Please, God. Aloud, she willed her words to be true, "Everything is going to be okay, Chris."

Tired and exhausted, Chris rested his head against his mother's shoulder, his breathing ragged, "Hold me."

Not caring whether he was talking to her or Bianca's ghost, Piper wrapped her arms around her son even tighter. Soothing him, Piper rocked back and forth on the ground, "Forever, baby."

"I'm sorry…"

His voice was so faint, Piper had almost missed the words. She asked softly, "What are you sorry for, peanut?"

"…for…everything," his voice was a whisper. "I tried…I tried to do right…"

Her eyes blazed with emotion as she heard the guilt and self-recrimination in her son's words. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Piper hugged her son to her, "You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing. You hear me, Chris? You did everything right…everything anyone could ever do…everything anyone could ask you to do…"

"So bright…" his voice was filled with a hushed awe. If he heard her, he gave no indication.

Piper clutched him tighter, her knuckles turning white as if she could keep him with her if she physically held onto him, "Chris?"

Silence.

"Chris?" Piper looked down at her son's still form. She whispered his name again, "Chris?"

Peace.

And her heart broke.

Suddenly, she wanted to wail at the fates, curse them for being so unfair – she could feel her fury swirl up, engulfing her in a black rage. Unable to control herself, Piper threw back her head, letting out an anguished scream – her cries cutting across the sky as she screamed until she was hoarse, until her anger transformed into inconsolable grief.

Finally, choking back her hiccupping sobs, Piper buried her face into the crease between her son's neck and shoulder. So focused on her own pain, she was only vaguely aware of Leo sobbing hoarsely and her sisters collapsing against the family of three, their arms embracing the two parents in wordless comfort.


To be continued…

A/N: You knew that was coming, right?