A/N: I'm sorry I haven't updated recently. I was lucky enough to contract a case of mononucleosis… and have basically been doing nothing but sleeping. (well, actually, I'm still doing that, but I thought I'd try to get a new chapter in)

(smiles) But thanks for all of the wonderful reviews! Without you guys, this story would not exist, and all of the reviews have made me feel so much better I decided to get up and write… (okay, so I'm lying in bed, using my laptop, but still, I'm working!

I'm glad everyone has liked it so far!

P.S. I'm sorry about how some of the story came out. After it was published, I was looking it over and noticed that some of the stuff had been erased. Like when Chris says that it's Wyatt's fault, 100? It was supposed to be 100 percent. Little stuff like that. So I'm sorry if anything else is wrong. Also I'm giving Chris two more powers, the ability to heal (which is necessary for part of this chapter) and astral projection. I originally meant to in the beginning, but obviously forgot.

Yeah, I'd forget my head if it wasn't already attached.

(By the way, I hope the sisters' spell doesn't sound too terrible. I know it doesn't sound wonderful, but it took me forever just to get that out. Good thing I don't have to write spells on a daily basis, or I'd be seriously screwed.)

Now it's time to thank my wonderful reviewers:

Potterwing, Kitty-Witty-Kate, Scary-Girly, teal-lover, splombie, angelkat2502, bstant, aerohead1980, Touch of the Wind, petites sorcieres, Charmedp3123, scme, shadowhisper, M.J.L.S., HellCat 1031, and last but not least the-raven-angel.

Now, back to the story!

"So tell me," Chris asked Alana. "How many and who have we lost?"

Alana glanced away; not wanting to meet his eyes directly.

"You don't want to know, Chris. Really, you don't."

"No… you see, I do. I need to know," Chris's voice was cool and hard. "So tell me."

She sighed as she knew there was no dissuading him.

Every time something like this happened; he had to know every detail.

Once, long ago, she had asked him why he needed to.

His reply had stunned her.

"It's because every name keeps the memory fresh… keeps the rage fresh and sharp against Wyatt. It keeps my focus totally on Wyatt, and what I need to do in order to stop him."

"We lost Justin Lewis, Rachael Holloway, Sean Cohen, Lindsay Williams, Ben Cook, Jade Donovan, Josh MacLaren and Lily Karr."

Chris nodded, his face grim as he absorbed every name.

"And what about the injured?"

Alana sighed. She seriously didn't want to tell him this part. "Kendra Olsen, Melodie Osborn, Rosilyn Howard, Aaron O'Brien, Krista Follett, Isaac Kirkham, Esmeralda Harper, Jace Garner, Drew Rees, Marisol Carpenter, Julian Clark, Isabella Vitagliano, Amber Winters and…"

She hesitated

"What," Chris asked, his voice growing more intense. "Who else?"

"Max Franklin."

Chris's face went blank. "How bad is he? Where are our Whitelighters?"

"Pretty bad, but Chris, you of all people should know that our number of Whitelighters are getting slimmer and slimmer by the day. The only two we have are out on assignment."

He rolled up his sleeves. "Well, it's a good thing I'm here, isn't it? Now where is everyone that's injured?"

Alana snagged his sleeve. "Chris, you can't heal all of them! It'll drain you, maybe even hurt yours-"

He cut her off. "Take me to them."

Besides Alana, Max Franklin was the only other person who was connected to him a very special way.

He had been kidnapped when he was just a kid, and his late Aunt Prue, whom Chris had never met, had saved him.

When Max had found that out, he had immediately regaled the younger man with stories. Soon Chris was fascinated with the aunt he had never gotten the chance to even meet.

But he had her power of telekinesis and astral projection, and Max would say often, accompanied with laughter, he was god-awful stubborn, just like her.

Brave like her, too. She had charged in, when he was being held by armed men planning on using Max's power to rob a bank, without a second thought.

Although some might call that reckless… Max would say, laughing harder.

"How on earth do you consider me brave?" Chris had asked bemusedly.

At that statement, Max rolled his eyes, and cuffed him upside the head.

"Hey! What was that for?" Chris protested.

"How on earth do you consider me brave," the older man had mocked. "You idiot! Look around at what you're doing. At what you're fighting for, despite the personal cost to yourself!"

"Well, of course I have to. I can't just sit around and let Wyatt kill every Witch,

Whitelighter, and every magical being he can find."

"Despite the fact that Wyatt's trying his best to kill you. Brother or not."

Chris looked away. "Well, we already know that family means absolutely nothing to him, don't we?"

Max opened his mouth to continue their conversation further, but Chris shook his head. "No. I don't want to talk about that."

The older witch nodded slowly. "All right. But you do know… you'll have to talk about it someday. You can't hold it in forever man, or you're gonna lose it."

Chris felt tears burn in his blue eyes, but as usual, did not allow them to fall.

He couldn't.

He'd been their leader for so long that allowing himself to feel his emotions to wasn't possible.

As he had to be strong for all of them.

So letting his emotions loose just wasn't an option; he had to suck it up and be the figure they all looked up to.

Thank god that he was the only empath in the group.

"Do my eyes deceive me, or that Christopher Halliwell standing before me?" Max asked now from where he was lying on a mattress on the floor, as that passed for their beds.

But his voice was so weak, not at all like his usual warm, boisterous tone, it scared Chris.

He bit his lip, and dropped down to knees beside the twenty-nine-year-old Witch who had become more like an older brother to him than Wyatt.

"Hey… you look like hell. What happened?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice steady.

Max smiled faintly. "What was the old saying? 'Same shit, different day?' That about sums it up."

The young half Witch-Whitelighter closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again; there was a mixture of pain and rage. "Wyatt?"

"Well, not Wyatt personally…but he was there. It was one of his demons that did this." Max winced, although he tried to hide it.

Chris smacked himself mentally upside the head. Here, he was questioning his friend, when he was injured and needed healing desperately.

Gently, careful not to cause his friend anymore pain, he placed his hands gingerly over the wound, (obviously caused by a well-aimed energy ball) on Max's abdomen.

"Hey," Max looked up at him. "What are you doing? I'm sure there are people worse off than me. In fact, I know Kendra needs you more-"

"Well, I'm going over to the rest of them after I'm done with you. And I'll make sure I'll start with Kendra." Chris replied absently.

Max narrowed his eyes. "Chris, we have a lot of wounded here… what if something happens to you?"

The younger man said nothing. Because of the fact he was only half-Whitelighter, the act of healing took a great deal out of him

But at least he still had his ability. Wyatt had lost his a long time ago, as lover was the trigger for healing… And Wyatt no longer felt love, only lust for power.

"Well, Alana informed me that Adrian and Gabrielle are out on assignment," Chris named their two other surviving Whitelighters. "So therefore, you're stuck with me."

"Chris-" Max began to protest, but the half Witch-Whitelighter paid him no heed, and immediately went to work. A warm golden glow infused his hands and Max's injury.

Chris smiled as he watched, it started to heal almost instantly.

Max laid still for a moment, recouping, then took a deep breath. The lines of pain that had been engraved in the sides of lips, and bracketed by his eyes, were also gone.

Chris stood. "One down, thirteen to go." he said, with a small smile.

"Chris, how are you possibly going to do this?" Max asked, getting easily to his feet.

The two men locked eyes. "You know I have to. I have to take care of them… I have to save them."

He turned, and headed towards Alana, obviously getting a list of where all the injured were located.

"Yeah, but who's going to save you Chris?" Max whispered, looking after his friend with worried eyes.

"Chris!" he called out after him.

The young half Witch-Whitelighter stopped immediately and turned back to Max. "Yeah?"

"Come on. I'll take you to them." And sit with you to make sure nothing drastic happens…

His friend raised an eyebrow, and Max cursed silently. Damn Chris's empathic talents that made it a virtual impossibility to keep anything secret from him.

But Chris said nothing about it, only extended a hand. "After you."

"Can you sense him Leo?" Piper asked anxiously as they walked.

Leo had been concentrating hard; trying to locate their White… no, their son, but he so far he had zero success.

He swallowed hard. "No… no I can't."

Piper's face turned pale, so pale, her freckles stood out like paint droplets. "Does that mean he's dead?"

"No, Piper, no, of course not." Leo assured his wife.

Although it was a very strong possibility.

He caught Phoebe looking at him, biting her lip and winced slightly. She'd picked up that emotion.

Paige, who had been mostly quiet up until now, suddenly spoke up. "Hey, what if you can't sense him, because he's hiding?"

Her three companions turned and gave her an odd stare. "What?" Phoebe asked, as if Paige had spoken in Greek.

The youngest Charmed One waved an encompassing hand. "Look around. We saw the Wanted Poster, we know that…" she hesitated. "that Wyatt is after him. Wherever he's hiding, he's probably got a spell on it, so it would be harder for him to be found."

"Paige, you're a genius!" Phoebe exclaimed. "I bet if we think of a little power-of-three spell, we could counteract it… and Leo would be able to sense him."

"Yes, but what if Wyatt does as well," Piper asked quietly. "We'll be putting Chris in more danger."

The four of them looked at each other; momentarily at a loss.

"Well," Paige said trying to bolster everyone's sprits. "We'll just have to get there first, won't we?"

By the time Chris had finished with Krista, his head had started to pound something awful.

He reached up, and rubbed his fiercely aching temples, without anyone noticing.

"Chris."

Damn.

He'd been caught.

By Alana, no less.

She stalked towards him, looking quite like a lion about to pounce on a crippled gazelle in the savanna.

"Yeah?" he asked, trying to sound as innocent as his poor throbbing head would allow.

But Alana knew him too well, and could spot his 'bullshit maneuvers' as she called them, a mile away.

"You need to stop now. You're hurting yourself…"

Chris opened his mouth, but thought better of it as he watched the sparkle in her dark eyes, always a bad sign, increase tenfold.

"And we can't have you hurt," she softened her voice. "I don't want you hurt."

He gave her a small smile. "I'm sorry, Lana," he said, calling her by the beloved nickname he had bestowed upon her years ago. "But I have to keep going. I'm not going to let our people die."

"Gabrielle should be here in a day or two."

"Some of these people don't have a day or two," he retorted. He sighed, and took her hand. "I'm sorry Alana, but there's no other option."

Alana crossed her arms. "Fine. You can heal the critical injuries, but we'll wait, and leave the minor ones for Gabby."

Chris arched a disbelieving eyebrow. "And leave people in pain, I don't-"

"We do have painkillers here, Chris. For situations just like this, when we're injured and there are no Whitelighters available."

The half Witch-Whitelighter sighed, knowing that he'd been beaten. "Fine. Drew, Esmeralda, and Amber can wait."

Alana nibbled her lip, and she mentally tallied the numbers. That still left five for Chris to heal. Marisol, Julian, Isaac, Jace, and Isabella.

She just hoped that Chris had the strength to be able accomplish the feat.

"Okay, I hope this works," Phoebe announced, waving the spell which she had written on a scrap of paper. "I hate having to write spells at the last minute."

Piper took the paper from her younger sister, and read quietly.

To this world in which we came

That is changed and not the same

Help us find the one that does hide

So we can bring him back to our side

Piper handed it back to Phoebe. "Sounds good, Phoebes. Let's start chanting, shall we?"

Paige quickly glanced over it, and said "Yeah, let's go."

They all held hands and began to chant.

"To this world in which we came"

"That is changed and not the same"

"Help us find the one that does hide"

"So we can bring him back to our side"

They repeated it three times before Piper asked uncertainly. "Uh… did it work?"

She was terrified that the power of three didn't work here in the future.

Her fears were unfounded, though, when Leo sighed in relief. "It worked. I can sense him…" he trailed off.

"What?" Piper's voice raised, the voice of a scared mother. "What's wrong?"

"He's hurting and exhausted… he's probably about two seconds away from collapsing."

"What's wrong with him?" Piper asked sharply.

Leo concentrated harder, getting a better lock on his son. "He's been healing people. And being only half-Whitelighter, it drains him, hurts him."

"Well, do you have a fix on where he is?" Piper demanded, cutting straight to the point.

The Elder was silent for a moment; then a small smile crossed his face. "Yeah. Got him. Let's go."

Good... bad... terrible? Let me know.