Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed. I need a tissue to dry my tears.

Author's Note: I'm sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up. The thing is, I don't always write my stories in order. So while it took some time to get this chapter done, I have been writing. I've been working on not only future scenes of this story, but future stories, as well. Anyway, I hope it was worth the wait. But sure to review and let me know what you think. ::wink::

Chapter Two

The bass was thumping and the room had a smoky aura, courtesy of the strobe lights flashing in time with the beat of the music. "Come on!" Chris shouted, grabbing Cassie's hand and leading her through the fray that was a typical Friday night a P3. "We'll grab seats at the bar."

"Are we allowed in here?" Cassie asked, raising her voice to be heard over the music. She looked over her shoulder as her new friend continued to lead her forward as they came through the back entrance, expecting a bouncer to come charging after them, ready to throw them out on their collective butts.

"Typically, no. But tonight is 18 to get in and 21 to drink. It doesn't matter, though, my mom owns the place." He flashed her a smile and pulled up a stool in front of the bar. "Have a seat," he instructed, patting the stool. He effortlessly slid onto its next-door neighbor, and raised a hand to signal the bartender. "Two waters, please."

"So your mom owns this place, huh? Do you come here often?" Cassie asked, trying to make small talk. She had felt so comfortable and at ease with Chris when they were studying in the library. She had even been excited on the drive to the club, following Chris's car. But now that they were in the club, in a complete social setting, she felt the nerves creep up on her, from her toes on up to her ears. She began to fidget, peeling the label off her water bottle.

"Not as often as most people expect," Chris replied, unscrewing the cap off his mineral water. He took a quick swig. "While it's good for an inexpensive time out on the town, there is a con, though. Come here too often, and Wyatt and I run the risk of being spied on and word getting back to Mom."

"Wyatt?"

Chris swallowed another sip of water and nodded. "My older brother." An arm snaked in between the twosome, grabbed Chris's water bottle and left the way it came. He followed the movement, and found his older brother taking a sip of his water. "Speak of the devil! Were your ears just ringing?"

"No, but a foul odor did alert me to your presence," Wyatt retorted, flashing a brilliant grin. He stood tall, a few inches over six feet, his stance exuding confidence. His hair was still damp, and Chris guessed the vanquish had nearly made him late for his date.

"You sure it wasn't your cologne?" Chris bit back, snatching the water bottle out of his older brother's hand. He eyed it warily for a moment, dropped it on the bar, and signaled the bartender again to order a fresh one.

"You sure you're studying?" Wyatt asked, raising his hand to catch the bartender's attention as well. "Two beers, please," he ordered. His attention returned to his younger brother, and the young woman sitting next to him, watching the boys with an amused smile on her delicate features. "I would think it would be difficult to memorize formulas with your books at the library." He took the two beers, passed one to his date, and slid a few bills onto the bar. "Thanks, Neil," he said, addressing the bartender by name.

"We did. Now we're taking a break," Chris explained. He took a sip from his fresh bottle of water, and felt his face grow warm with flush, in spite of himself. True, he had gone to the library alone to study. So he had met a study partner in the process. So what? It wasn't a big deal. But Wyatt would make it a big deal. That's what big brothers were for.

"We?" the blonde youth asked, raising an eyebrow, his interest piqued. He had had many study dates himself, and therefore knew from experience that typically, little studying got done during those sessions.

"Yeah, we." Chris's retort was sharp, cutting. His tone seemed to be asking if his older brother had suddenly gone dense. He took a breath to collect himself and made the introductions. "Wyatt, this is Cassie. Cassie, meet my brother, Wyatt, and his date . . . " Chris's voice trailed off, indicating he was unfamiliar with his brother's current the flavor of the week. She was pretty enough, though. Tall and blonde, she wore an expression of slight impatience, none too keen to be wasting precious minutes in the company of her date's little brother and his friend.

"Oh, this is Emily," he said, placing his free hand on the small of her back. He caught the expression on her face, and offered his date a sheepish grin. "Emily, this is my brother, Chris, and Cassie. Nice to meet you, Cassie," Wyatt greeted her. He removed his hand from Emily's back in exchange for his beer, and extended the other for Cassie to shake. She tentatively put her hand in his, and he noticed it seemed to shake slightly with nerves. "I hope you can help get my little brother through this class," he said, slapping Chris on the back. "Lord knows I'm tired of hearing him whine about it." He flashed the young woman one of his most brilliant smiles and took a sip of his beer.

Cassie smiled at the young man's ribbing. If Wyatt hoped to embarrass his brother, she would have to estimate he was doing a good job, based on the expression on Chris's face. "'Fraid not. I'm pretty useless when it comes to any form of science. I'm relying on Chris to get me through." She smiled, displaying support for her new friend.

"Hope you don't mind taking physics again next semester, then." He shrugged his shoulders, as if to say, 'that's the way it goes,' and sipped his beer.

"Nonsense! We're going to pass that exam on Monday with flying colors."

"I wish I could be as optimistic as you are." There was a hint of defeat in Chris's voice and dejection written on his face. "This class makes me feel like the semester will never end. How can you be so certain?"

Cassie smiled, glad to return the favor from the library and offer her new friend some support. "There's something to be said for positive thinking."

"You got a point there."

Well, I'm gonna go before Emily takes off with another man," Wyatt excused himself, his date now on the dance floor with a group of girls, and a few men ogling her from the sidelines. "I'm on thin ice as it is," he mumbled to himself. "Anyway, good luck you two. Have fun . . . studying." The young man smirked, pleased with his joke. He clapped his brother on the back, gave Cassie a wink, and walked out onto the dance floor to join Emily.

Cassie burst out laughing. "Was he just trying to flirt with me?" she asked, surprise and amusement mixed in her voice.

"He wasn't doing a good job of it, but yes," Chris replied, a smile forming on his own handsome features. Her smile and laughter were infectious, and he suspected it wasn't something she had been doing a lot of lately. It was therapeutic to laugh.

"Well, he's something, huh?"

"Oh, he's something all right." He stood up and offered her his hand. "So, do you wanna dance?"

Cassie stepped into the hospital elevator and pressed the button for her mother's floor. She took a sip of her coffee and closed her eyes. She was tired, but it was a good tired. It was nice to have been up late partying instead of studying for once.

When the elevator arrived on her floor, she quickly took another sip before stepping out. Truth be told, she didn't care for the taste of coffee much. But with all the running around she'd been doing over the last few years, she learned to deal with it. It started so innocently: a trip or two to the hospital cafeteria, drinking it to pass the time away. Now she couldn't get her day started without it, and sometimes her afternoon as well.

She stopped in the doorway to her mother's room, and was happy to see her sitting up, flipping through a magazine. Her mother, Catherine Cole, had always loved fashion and fashion magazines. And that didn't stop simply because she was limited to wearing a drafty hospital gown. "Hey, there," Cassie greeted her, stepping into the sterile room her mother had called home for the last month.

Catherine looked up and smiled at the sight of her daughter. Had she been in perfect health, looking at her daughter would have been like looking into a mirror: same porcelain skin; wide, bright smile; and thick brown hair. They were so alike, with the exception of their eyes, of course. Cassie had her father's eyes. "Hey, stranger. I was wondering if you had time today for your mother."

"It took some shuffling, but I managed to squeeze you in." She walked over to the lone chair in the room and set her bag down next to it. It was loaded with the latest issues of fashion magazines and her physics notes. It was probably as heavy as those sets of encyclopedias her mother once told her about, the ones she used for research when she was a kid.

Catherine patted the space next to her on the bed. "Well, tell me about it. How's your weekend going?"

The young woman sat down next to her mother and stretched out her legs. "Pretty good. I got some studying in for Physics, and there's a chance I might even pass this exam. And, well . . . " She paused. When she spoke again she lowered her voice, as if she was sharing a secret for only her mother to hear. "I made a new friend."

"Oh, really?" The older woman wore an expression of surprise on her face, even though she tried to hide it. Her daughter was always shy and had a hard time approaching new people. Making new friends was not a task she challenged herself with on a regular basis.

"Really, so you can wipe that surprised look off your face." Catherine at first wore an over exaggerated expression of surprise at her daughter's suggestion, but then laughed at getting caught. Cassie joined in the laughter, something the two of them didn't do often enough. "His name is Chris Halliwell and he's in my Physics class. We met in the library on campus last night and started studying together. Then we went out to his mother's club."

"Club?" This time Catherine was unable to keep the surprise out of her voice, and really didn't even bother to try. Cassie never expressed any interest in clubs. Her idea of a perfect night out was spending it at a ball game.

"Yeah. His mother owns P3."

"So, you found a tutor and went clubbing with him. Hmmm . . . well, you certainly accomplished a lot in one night." She smiled. "Dating the tutor . . . " She snuck a peek at her daughter, who was starting to squirm. It felt so natural to tease her and at the same time, a little sad. She hadn't had much to tease her daughter about the last year or so.

"No! No, no, no! First off, he's not my tutor; he's my study partner. And second, we are not dating."

"Oooh . . . someone's a little sensitive. What? Do you have a crush?"

"Mom," she whined. "I do not have a crush. I'm just a little excited, that's all. This is the first friend I've made since I started college. I've let a lot of my friends from high school slide . . . it's just nice to interact with someone other than medical professionals and the take-out delivery guys." Cassie coughed to break the uncomfortable silence hanging in the air. The last thing she wanted to do was make her mother feel guilty for getting sick, like it was her fault her social calendar was empty. Because the truth was no matter how ugly it got or how ugly it was still going to get, there's no place she'd rather be than at her mother's side.

"But still," Catherine sighed. She was becoming short of breath and took a moment before continuing. "I just wish I knew there would be someone to support you and take care of you once I'm gone."

"Mom," Cassie gasped, turning to look her mother in the eye, a horrified expression on her young features. "Please, don't talk like that," she said softly.

"Cassie . . . " the older woman said, her voice stern. Just because she was ill didn't mean she couldn't play the mom card if necessary. She closed her eyes to gather her thoughts, and when she opened them they were shining with tears. "You and I both know what my prognosis is. Ignoring it doesn't make it less real. There's no point in denying it. I'm dying, Cassie. And I need to know that you'll be okay."

The young woman's green eyes shined with tears. "Oh Mom, you're all I need," she said, taking the older woman's hand in her own and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You've given me the strength to deal with all this. I'll be okay. I promise. I don't need anyone else."

Catherine put her hand over their joined ones and sighed, shaking her head slightly. "Everyone needs someone, Cassie. And one day you'll meet that someone. I just don't want you to be so stubborn and determined to make it on your own, that you let him walk right by." She tried to make eye contact with her daughter, but failed. She continued anyway. "I know it hurts. But it's supposed to. You can't appreciate the good until you've felt the bad."

"Leave it to you to be philosophical right now."

"Well, it's all true."

"That doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Oh, Cassie. My dear, sweet Cassie." She tucked an errant strand of hair behind her daughter's ear. It took all her strength to do that, but it was worth it. She sighed and closed her eyes. "There's so much . . . so much I still have to tell you," Catherine said softly. She opened her eyes and watched her daughter, who as staring intently at the joined hands.

"Not now, Mom. There's plenty of time. You can tell me another day." Cassie slid off the bed and helped her mother slide back down into it, pulling the covers up tight around her to tuck her in.

Catherine sighed. It was happening so much more often, the waves of exhaustion taking over. Each day was progressively harder to keep up her strength. "I love you, Cassie," she whispered, before her eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep.

Cassie leaned over and kissed her mother's forehead. "I love you too, Mom."

The Halliwell brothers were sitting at the kitchen table, getting ready to start their Monday. Chris was reading his physics notes, unaware of the trail of milk on the table, courtesy of his cereal spoon, held just in front of his mouth. Wyatt also had a bowl of cereal in front of him, but the contents were getting soggy as his attention was diverted to the faint ringing in his ears. He tilted his head to one side and started tapping it with the heel of his hand, much in the same manner he would use to remove water from his ear after swimming.

Wyatt looked at his younger brother, nose buried in his book, absentmindedly eating his cereal and oblivious to the ringing. "Don't you hear that?" he asked his brother, both frustrated and annoyed.

Chris raised his head, directing his attention to Wyatt, watching him repeatedly tap the heel of his hand against his head, just above his ear. This was strange behavior, even for the Halliwell household. "Hear what?" he asked, eyeing him skeptically.

"That ringing!"

Chris smiled, slightly amused by his older brother's discomfort. "'Fraid not. Maybe you're getting too old to be hanging out where loud music is played." He snickered and resumed eating his cereal.

"I am not too old!" As Wyatt shouted, working up his emotions, his powers got away from him, as they often do. The kitchen table shook and the toaster popped, a small spiral of smoke starting to rise from it.

Chris eyed the busted toaster then looked back at his brother. "All right, all right, you're not old. Geez!" He returned his attention to his physics notes. "And they say I'm the sensitive, over-dramatic one," he muttered under his breath.

"I heard that!"

"Good morning, boys." Piper Halliwell entered the kitchen wearing her pajamas and a smile on her face. It warmed her heart to see her boys sitting at the table, preparing for their day. It was simple, basic, normal. And she loved it.

"Wyatt's got a ringing in his ear," Chris told his mother, using the same tone he did when he five-years-old, snitching on Wyatt when he used his powers outside the house.

"What? No, 'good morning, Mom. Wyatt has a ringing in his ear'?" She smiled, thinking she was enjoying a joke with her sons, but one look at her eldest's frustration told her this was a more serious matter. "Okay, what's wrong?"

"I don't know. There's just this . . . faint ringing. Seems more like it's in my head than in my ear, though." Giving in to the sound, Wyatt abandoned his attempts to knock it out, and folded his arms on the table, resting his head on them in defeat.

"Good morning, everyone," greeted Leo, walking into the kitchen. He kissed his wife, crossed the room, and poured himself a cup of coffee. "How is everyone?"

"Wyatt has a ringing in his ear," Piper told her husband, the concern evident in her voice.

"God! It never stops!" Wyatt complained, now softly banging his head on the table. "Make it go away!"

"Uh, do you mind?" Chris asked, looking up from his notes, clearly irritated by this new distraction. "Some of us are trying to read at this table. Can't you bang your head on the wall or something?"

"There will be no head banging!" Piper said, crossing her arms in front of her chest, her tone stern. She turned to her husband. "What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing is wrong with him," Leo said before turning to his oldest son. "That ringing you're hearing is the call from the Elders, which means you're coming into your Whitelighter powers."

"Well, how come Chris isn't coming into his powers, too? It's not fair." The older of the two boys leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms in front of his chest, and pouted like a toddler demanding his way.

"You probably have to pass physics before you can become a Whitelighter, too," Chris responded, a mixture of disappointment and relief in his voice. He had been waiting -- and apparently still is -- to come into his Whitelighter powers, but if he was being completely honest with himself, he simply did not have room on his plate for additional responsibilities.

"Can't I come into them tomorrow?" Wyatt whined, wishing he was five again and his parents could magically make his problems go away. "I've got class in an hour."

"Wyatt, you know better than that! If you're coming into your powers now there must be a reason for it. Someone needs your help. You can't just ignore that," Leo lectured his son. Deep down, though, he was proud. His son was becoming a Whitelighter today, would be given his first charge. This was a special moment in a young Whitelighter's life, and he was glad he was there to share it with him.

"Someone always needs my help," he muttered, knowing full well his father was right, but not quite yet ready to admit it aloud.

"Wyatt . . . " Piper and Leo said in unison, their tone clearly warning their son he was on thin ice.

"Fine, fine! I'll go answer the call from the elders!" Wyatt shouted in disgust, quickly standing up from his chair. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it." He crossed his arms in front of his chest in an effort to let his parents know he meant business. Then he orbed out of the kitchen to meet the elders, see what all the fuss was about, and receive his first assignment and charge.

Cassandra Cole heaved a sigh of relief as she pulled into a parking space on campus. "Made it, with 15 minutes to spare," she said softly to herself, cutting the engine and double-checking her watch. Typically she was late for this class, but today, today she wasn't just on time; she was early. She opened the car door and climbed out. If she hurried, she could squeeze some extra studying in before the exam started.

"Bag, coffee, notes, keys." Cassie listed the items as she pulled each one out of her car. She slung her bag over her shoulder, pocketed her keys, and closed the door with her hip while grabbing the coffee and notes -- one in each hand -- off of the roof of her car. She hustled to the quad and sipped her coffee while scanning her physics notes.

Cassie surveyed the quad. It was a beautiful day, and the student body seemed to be making the most out of the agreeable weather. Her classmates had spread blankets in various shaded and sunny areas and were laying down -- some to study, some to sunbathe, and some to make-out with their significant others. A trio of girls was standing in a huddle, watching a small group of shirtless guys play touch football. She decided to enjoy the weather as well while reviewing her notes, and sat down on a nearby bench shaded by an old oak tree.

"I think I might actually remember all these formulas," Cassie said to herself, her lips beginning to form a proud smile. She checked her watch: 5 minutes until the exam. She gathered her notes, grabbed her coffee and started to stand when she heard a shout from behind.

"Look out!"

She dropped her notes and coffee at the sound of the warning, and quickly turned around. The football the group of boys had been playing with was headed right towards her at an alarming speed. Cassie panicked; she'd never been good at sports, or terribly coordinated for that matter. She threw her hands up to block her face from being hit, but then, the strangest thing happened.

The ball was so close. She squeezed her eyes tight, bracing herself for the sting of impact the ball would have with her hands, but it never came. Instead, the football dropped to the ground, as if it had hit some invisible barrier. She bent over to pick it up, staring at it in wonder. "What the hell?" she muttered.

"Sorry about that." She lifted her head at the sound of the male voice. One of the shirtless guys was jogging towards her, his torso glistening with sweat and panting slightly from his workout. "Are you all right? You're not hurt, are you?" he asked.

"No, I'm fine," Cassie replied. She paused and fidgeted nervously, slightly intimidated by the silence. She extended her hand, offering the young man his football. "Here you go." She quickly dropped the ball into the young man's extended hand and looked down. The ground was littered with her physics notes, some of which were stained with coffee. "Shit!" She dropped to her hands and knees and gathered the scattered papers. She picked up one by the corner. It was soaked with coffee and immediately tore from the weight of the liquid. "I hope I have that information memorized." She closed her eyes and sighed. "I so don't need this today," she said softy.

"Lemme help you," the young man said. He crouched down, tucked the football under his arm and collected the last of the scattered papers. "I hope they weren't too important," he said, commenting on the stains as he handed them to her.

"Thanks," she replied, taking the notes from him. "I have an exam in a few minutes. I suppose if I don't know it by now, I'll never know it." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear nervously. "Well, I'd better be going or I'll be late. Thanks for all your help." Cassie stood, double-checked she had everything, minus her coffee, and smiled. "See you around."

The young man stood as well, holding the empty coffee cup and threw it into a nearby trashcan. "You too," he replied, smiling. "Good luck on your exam!" he called after her retreating form.

"Thanks!" Cassie shouted, waving as she jogged towards the science building, hair flying behind her.

"No, thank you," the young man said. His gaze on the young woman intensified, and his eyes flashed red. He smiled, tossed the ball up into the air, caught it, and trotted back towards his friends.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Please hit the review button and let me know what you think. Pretty please!