Sorry, I intended to have this chapter out sooner but I've been having internet issues. Reviews are very much appreciated, Thank You.

The look in her eyes that night. The portal a gash of silver in the attic wall. It choked his breath and pinched his heart to leave her there, in that world. Bianca. The ring that she had placed in his palm, her lips pressed to his skin. Those were the memories that kept him focused. 'You're the only one who can save us,' her voice had whispered. A sharp pain gnawed through his skull, disrupting his daydream.

The ringing in his ears was back; it had begun early this morning and had now developed into a stubborn headache. While Leo, becoming an increasing annoyance, didn't seem to buy the Elder's theory that a demon sent him to Valhalla. He winced, ignoring Leo's glare, the irritating headache was taking hold of his concentration and wearing down his patience. Leo had been behaving like his shadow ever since his return, never even trying to disguise his obvious glares.

He was so very angry. Angry that even in this world, before knowing who he really was, Leo was still against him. Angry that he left the woman he loved behind in a hell created by own brother. But more than anything, angry that he felt so much burning hatred towards the brother he had once idolised.

"Chris, are you even listening to me?" He was snapped back into reality, facing Phoebe's irritated glare. His patience evaporated. "Yes, Phoebe, you're an empath now. It's hard. Get over it." Phoebe exhaled heavily and gawked at him, appalled.

"Feeling a little irritated, Chris?" Leo asked, an eager smile playing on his lips.

"Yes, if you must know."

His smile widened, "Little bit of a migraine?"

Leo looked like he was genuinely enjoying watching him figure out that he knew something that Chris didn't. "What's going on?" He asked sternly. Phoebe darted her eyes between the two, "I'm sensing a lot of tension in this room." Both of them seemed to ignore her comment as Leo continued.

"I've discussed your situation with the other elders and I-we have come up with a solution. Think of it as a learning curve, gaining some experience."

"What are you talking about?"

"You've been assigned a new charge." Leo did little to hide his euphoria at being the one to break the news. Chris's lips were pressed together like he was trapping all the words he wanted to shout in his father's face. But he wouldn't, he had more self control than that.

"Have you forgotten that I'm already responsible for three Charmed Ones? I don't have time for-" he was interrupted.

"And that's exactly why you've been assigned a new charge. The sisters are very important to the greater good, to the world, and any whitelighter of theirs requires a certain level of...experience. If you can prove to the elders that you can manage one more charge then you can stay their whitelighter. If not...well I guess it just wasn't meant to be."

How convenient, and if he failed this task then Leo would most likely be next in line for the job. He was ruining everything. If his plan to save the future was going to have any hope at all it was mandatory for him to be the sister's whitelighter, and that was a difficult task even on slow days. He didn't have room in his head to worry over a stranger's well being.

He laughed half heartedly. "You still don't trust me, do you?"

"No, Chris, I don't. I don't believe anything you have to say."

"I told you, I came back to save your son." That part was true, and it struck a nerve. The tension had risen.

A newly empathic Phoebe stood with arms raised between them. "I understand your frustration. Believe me," she began, "but Leo you need to cut him some slack. Chris has been sending us after demon after demon. He's doing really well. And Chris, Leo has every right to be suspicious when his son is involved, it's what fathers do." He bit his tongue to stop from laughing in her face at the idea of Leo being an honourable father. "Which is why you're going to take on this new charge and pass this test with flying colours." She seemed proud of her speech, beaming at each of them as they absorbed her words. Another throb sent shock waves through Chris's skull, like a drill tearing through bone. He pressed his palm to his head.

"Looks like your charge needs you. You better go find her." Leo added before Chris orbed out of that room and far from his estranged father's arrogant tone.

"You know you're setting him up to fail, right?" Phoebe folded her arms across her chest.

"I like to think of it as testing his capability." Leo said, satisfaction evident on his face.

~.~.~

With arms folded across her chest and dried blood staining her skin, Ava paced frivolously along from street to street, not caring where she ended up. Her friend was dead. Her only friend was dead. Everyone she loved was dead. She could hear birds singing from treetops, a harmonic sound. She wished it made her happy, the beauty of orchestral birds. She wished she could cry. She wished she could feel anything at all. There was a weight in her chest and it was burning a hole right through her bones. She knew there was something missing.

"Don't stare." A mother hissed to her young child before dragging him along by his plump little arm. Her appearance had slipped her mind; bruises on her skin, crimson crusted onto her clothes and limping on one leg.

She was near a children's playground, presumably nearing the centre of the city. There was a rusting swing set next to a bright citrus climbing frame and monkey bars, but there were hardly any children around. One mother was zipping up a little pink coat on her daughter; another was scooping a toddler with thick jet black curls up into her arms. She tried to remember if her own mother had ever taken her to a playground.

Before she realised it, she was alone again. Reaching her fingers to her neck, she traced the thin gold chain that was always kept heavily concealed underneath her clothes. She pulled on it until an intricately decorated locket was revealed at the end of the chain, fitting perfectly in the palm of her hand. She opened its golden clasp to reveal a clock's face on the inside. It was a pocket watch, one that she had had for as long as she could remember. Its tiny hands struck twelve, exact almost to the second. It was no coincidence, she didn't believe in coincidences. It was a sign. Studying the clock's face with a focus so deep she didn't even notice the twinkling orbs of light appearing behind her. But soon after, she did sense a presence lurking behind her, hearing approaching footsteps that sent her paranoid senses into overdrive. She just didn't sense that the person she was about to attack was not there to harm her.

She swung around and suddenly there was a blade in her hand, gleaming in the sunlight. Chris put up his hands defensively, taking a step back. "Whoa, hold on. I'm not-" She lunged at him with her weapon, Chris barely dodged it but he wasn't injured, not yet. She was obviously rattled and he wasn't sure exactly how to explain himself or the 'I'm-your-whitelighter' situation.

Her eyes crashed into his, steel grey and cold in a way that meant she was prepared to do anything to keep him from getting too close. He was almost impressed. The longer he observed her stance the more he realised she was wobbling where she stood, her skin bruised, scraped and gravelly pale. "I'm here to help you." He attempted to explain, but she shook her head in response. "I know who you work for. I know..." she struggled to catch her breath, "...know what you do."

"Then you know that I'm just here to help you." He repeated, his hands still raised. "Liar." She mumbled half under her breath, tightening her grip on the weapon in her hand. Chris noticed the nasty looking slice through her leg, torn fabric splattered with dark blood weeping from the wound. Blood that looked almost black. Something was wrong. He wasted no time in seizing her wrist to loosen her grip on the blade, which proved easier than he thought as it slipped from her grasp and out of her reach. She fought tooth and nail with what little strength she had left but his arms still found their way around her, holding her tight.

She had only managed to pry his limbs away from her when she realised her surroundings had changed entirely. Chris watched her eyes widen and her breathing quicken. She was somewhere inside, it could have been a house but her vision blurred and the ground tilted under her feet. Chris caught her limp body before she hit the ground.

"Oh my god." Piper rushed in, kneeling next to the unconscious stranger in her whitelighter's arms, "What happened?"

"I have no idea. She saw me and freaked." Her body was limp in his arms, she was out cold. Piper recognised her as the stranger she had met only hours ago and felt a throb of guilt at the thought of not helping her when she had first arrived. She placed an outstretched hand onto her forehead, "Chris, she's burning up."

He carried her the short distance to the sofa, setting her down gently. He brushed strands of fair hair from her face, her skin like flames under his touch. Piper was right, she was burning up. In that moment he knew that she needed to be healed, and as much as he hated to admit it, his only choice was to call for Leo. In the back of his mind he wondered if this was some kind of twisted experiment Leo had planned; assign him a new charge only to have her die in his arms moments later.

"Leo!" Piper called out, apparently on the same wave length as he was. "Leo, come on!" Her tone urgent. He appeared in a glow of light with a look of sheer dread filling his features. Chris knew that look, he had seen it when he was fifteen and Wyatt had come home drenched in blood that was not his own and offered no explanation to his father of where it had come from.

"What's going on? Is Wyatt alright?"

"Wyatt's fine, it's Chris's charge that needs your help." She led him over to the sofa where the unconscious guest lay. Leo frowned. "What did you do?" He demanded, kneeling next to the girl and pushing Chris aside, regarding him as if he was directly responsible for her injuries.

"Nothing! She-" Again he was interrupted. This was becoming a habit.

"How long has her leg been like this?"

"How should I know? She was like this when I found her." Glancing at her injury, he realised it looked much worse. She was still bleeding but the blood from the wound was darker now, black as ink at first glance.

"It's your job to know." Leo growled, a golden glow radiating from his palms. But they made little difference to the state of the wound, wearing on Chris's patience. "What's taking so long?" He asked some tense moments later.

"I don't know. Something is slowing down the healing process."

"You mean like a spell?" Piper asked.

"No, it's more like a poison. The wound on her leg is probably the cause of it. It's in her bloodstream." He was looking only at Piper, leaving Chris feeling as useless as when he brought her here. He knew that there was nothing he could do and Leo knew it too.

"So what are you suggesting," his words dripping with sarcasm, "That we amputate?"

Leo narrowed his eyes, "No, smartass. But the healing process is going to take longer than I expected." Piper started towards the hallway. "I'll check the book, find out who-or what-did this to her. Maybe there's a cure." Leo nodded in reply. It took him all of two minutes to take control of the situation, making himself out to be some kind of hero. It was infuriating.

A number of hours had passed by and nothing had changed. Every so often Leo would hover his hands over the open wound and sigh when each attempt seemed to fail. Chris, in his attempt to make himself feel useful, shifted from his standing position by the wall to the seat opposite the sofa and finally settled on standing with arms folded next to the sofa where his charge lay unconscious.

She was breathing at least. He could tell because the sound had become ragged and uneven. There was a softness in her features he hadn't noticed before. Watching her now, his eye caught a metallic glimmer hung around her neck, a slither of golden chain that led to something clasped tightly in her hand. He wondered what it was, realising that the object must have dire importance to her to have remained in her grasp throughout her unconscious stage.

Leo exhaled loudly as he got to his feet. "Why are you stopping?" Chris enquired, meeting his father's tired eyes with a reluctant kindness. Leo replied, "I've done everything that I can. The wound is beginning to heal, I can sense it, but whatever poisoned her will take days to work its way out of her system." Noting the concern on Chris's face, he continued in an attempt of reassurance. "She's going to be alright, Chris. She could wake up at any moment." Chris's eyes wandered to the ground as he nodded slowly. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air as neither knew what to say next. Chris considered thanking him but Leo was the one to disrupt the silence. He had headed upstairs, leaving Chris alone with his charge.

He sat next her, looking down at the scrapes on that were still visible on her cheek. A strange sense of guilt rose to the surface within him. He didn't want her to die thinking that he was her enemy. Further observing her features, he saw the innocence in her sleeping face, peaceful almost. He placed his hand gently on hers. Her fingers were so cold. "Sorry." He mumbled under his breath.

His entire body went still when he felt her hand move away from his. He looked up to see a pair of cold grey eyes staring back at him, eyes that flooded with a fury at the sight of the man who she believed had been sent to kill her.