Disclaimer: Charmed isn't mine. As usual. Lol.

AN: Hopefully you all enjoy this...I have most of the next chapter written and I'm really enjoying the story, really enjoying where it's going, so I hope you all enjoy it too. Please let me know what you think:)

The rain fell with a much harsher force than it had early, with lightening and thunder traveling amongst the clouds.

A body twitched in the flickering streetlight, heaving for oxygen and trying to hold on. He was so tired, and broken, much too much to walk or travel away in any other manner, so he lay there, gasping for breath, hoping for a miracle.

A man walking on the sidewalk spotted him from a few feet over and carefully made his way over to help. However, as he took in the injured man's face, he drew back.

Cuts and bruises adorned it, as well as swelling, but there was no mistaking this man, the blood traitor, the head of the Resistance against Lord Wyatt. While the stranger ached inside with pity and desire to help, he was mortal and the smartest thing he could do for he and his family was turn and walk away.

Chris caught him in the streetlight for a moment, sensing another presence nearby. "Please..."

"I'm sorry." The man replied very softly, and turned, hurrying away, leaving Chris to again close his eyes and fight to stay conscious.

This was different than usual. Usually, Wyatt would hurt him, but he would make sure he was healed enough before letting him go. Wyatt never could bring himself to kill his brother, even if he beat him relentlessly for answers that never came. He usually made sure he was healed enough to make it back to whatever safe haven he came from. One thing was sure; if Wyatt had wanted him dead, he would've done it long before.

This was different. After Wyatt has finished with him, he had sneered disgustedly and almost mournfully gazed at the young, gasping man before demanding his clansmen take care of him meaning; leave him to die. That way, Wyatt couldn't be blamed for killing him. It just meant Chris wasn't strong enough to survive it.

The copper tang of blood came lightly at the back of his throat and he felt a stab of fear as realization set in of what may happen to him if someone didn't help him soon. He knew his body was twisted in the street, an awkward sight for any who saw him, but it seemed no one would come. He closed his eyes, almost resigning himself to his fate.

Not like this, he thought in his mind, relaxing ever so slightly to conserve his energy. It can't end like this.

As if an answer to a prayer, he suddenly felt hands touch his face. As he struggled to open his eyes, a muffled voice spoke, unrecognizable due to the state he was in.

"Don't get up, don't..." The voice hitched and stopped, the stranger emitting a strained sigh. "I'm gonna fix you, but don't move; save your strength."

He closed his eyes again and relaxed and he began to feel a familiar warmth spread over him like blanket, taking away much of the pain that he didn't even realize was wearing on his body.

"Jesus..." The voice breathed, then as if pleased enough with the amount of healing done, scooped him up like he was a rag doll. "That should get you out of the woods." As he felt himself rise into the air, he stiffened for a moment, his eyes still closed from exhaustion, to shield himself in case this wasn't a good thing. "I've got you." The man assured as he stood, shifting his body to shield him from any more rainfall.

Feeling better, yet just as exhausted, Chris pulled as much as he could together inside him to let his eyes flutter open for just moment, just to get a look at the man who was helping him. At first, the face was blanketed with shadows and unrecognizable, but as his eyes began to close, he swore he got a glimpse of what appeared to be his father's face, dark with fear and worry.

"Dad?" He whispered, before he felt his will give out and his body go limp as he succumbed completely to his subconscious.

------

It was hours later that he finally awoke, warm in his bed in the back room at P3. Bianca and Parker sat in the room with him, silently waiting for him to awaken. As his eyes fluttered open, Bianca rushed to his side, kneeling as she placed her hand on his own. Parker watched from the ratty armchair he was occupying, merely observing the situation.

"Chris! How are you feeling?"

"Like my big brother just used me as his punching bag." He answered wryly, wincing as he propped himself up on his elbows. "Oh, wait; he did."

"Well, at least your sparkling wit wasn't damaged." She pushed herself up, Chris scooting over to make room for her to sit on the bedside. "Do you need anything?"

"I actually am pretty thirsty." He replied, his eyes shifting to Parker before he looked at her.

"Oh, so that's code for 'Bianca, please get me water'." She asked with a smirk. "Because you and your cousin have to talk, right?"

"I love you." He replied with a fake pout and she playfully slapped him on the arm. He truly yelped. "Ow! I'm still sore!"

"Oh, you'll survive." She rose from the bed and left with a roll of her eyes, aware of the two men waiting to find themselves alone. She figured she needed to give an update to everyone outside anyway.

With her gone, Chris gritted his teeth and let his head fall back onto the wall. He wasn't just sore; he was in some pain, more than usual. He was vaguely aware of what had happened before he passed out, but still unsure of how he had gotten from the streets of San Francisco to the club safely.

"How are you, really?" Parker asked.

"You tell me. How am I, really?"

Parker shrugged. "You've been all healed. The pain you're in, it's just muscle soreness and other healing that your body needs to do. All other open wounds, life threatening internal bleeding and broken bones have been taken care of."

Chris wrinkled his face in confusion; he had remembered something like that happening, but it was really a blank. "How did I get back here? And who healed me? One of Wyatt's guys?"

"You don't remember?"

"Would I have asked it I had?" Chris asked back, annoyed. "I'm sorry, I'm just not feeling good..."

"It's fine." Parker replied nonchalantly, trying to stay patient with Chris' ornery attitude. He sighed to himself; he was only 17 and sometimes he felt as if he were the only one keeping things smooth and running, like he was the one who was the adult. Sometimes he just wished things were different...but then again, he supposed, who didn't?

"I am sorry, I know, it's a lot you've been dealing with these last couple days." Chris pushed on, apologizing. "With them being here, and Wyatt...I know it's hard."

"Yeah, well, it's not like its cake for anyone else, so I'm sure I'll get through it." He replied with a smirk. "But anyway...one of our renegade whitelighters brought you in."

"Who?" Chris asked. The renegade whitelighters were certain whitelighters who had deferred from the Powers That Be and had run rogue once Wyatt had begun to go off the rails. There were only a few left around in the city and they all knew each other.

"Um...Max." He replied, not meeting his eyes. "Really, it doesn't matter; all that matters is that you're alive."

"I'd still like to give my thanks." Chris replied. "Either way, I think it'll be awhile before I get to do that. We have a bigger problem to take care of still." He paused. "How is she taking all of this?"

Parker shrugged; he meant Piper obviously. "Not easy. I mean, she's taken it much better than I would ever expect, but I suppose she might be in shock." He sat down across from Chris, finally looking at him. "She is worried about you."

"I was worried about that." He replied somberly. "I really didn't want her to know."

"Maybe its better this way," Parker suggested. "She wanted to see you when you woke up. Do you want me to tell her it's okay to come in?"

Chris remained silent for a few moments, biting his lip. "I...I don't mean this badly, but I don't know if I'm ready for that just yet."

"She'll understand." Parker said rising. "I have to go though, I have to meet someone. I'll send Bianca back in though?"

Chris studied his cousin, the sudden shadiness striking him. He wanted to ask who, what, where, but he didn't want to press the matter. "Yeah. Be careful where you go though. Wyatt'll be on the war path."

"No, yeah, I know. Don't worry, I've made precautions. I'll see you later cuz." He replied with a smile. As he slipped out, it was as if with perfect timing that Bianca slipped in with his water.

"What was that all about?" She asked. Chris just stared at the door, shrugging before looking at her.

"I wish I knew."

-----

On the shore of the San Francisco Bay, under remnants of the Golden Gate Bridge, Parker sat, waiting upon a muddy bank, thinking to himself how ridiculous the heightened secrecy of this was. He sighed as blue lights appeared, the tinkling of orbs signaling Leo's arrival.

"Sorry, I was kept up." Leo started. "How is Chris?"

"Nice to see you too Uncle Leo." Parker replied with a smile. "He woke up, he's fine."

"And what did you tell him?"

"You mean did I bust you out and tell him that you're the one that saved his life? No, no I didn't, I lied and omitted you from any detail."

"Thank you."

"You know, I don't quite understand still why it's not okay for you to actually be around him." Parker commented, rising to his feet.

"I'm trying to do what he wants, Parker."

"That was almost 6 years ago, Uncle Leo."

"So he wants to see me?" Leo asked, a small doubtful smile on his face. The silence stretched out, affirming that Chris surely didn't. "Let's just get down to this."

"What happened to you Uncle Leo? I mean, you're nothing but business anymore."

"What happened to me? Did you really just ask me that?" Leo asked. "My wife is dead, my son hates me, and my other son is the ruler of all evil. Two women I thought of as my own little sisters are dead, as is one of their daughters and my remaining nieces and nephews were forced to grow up way, way too fast." He shook his head in disbelief. "Did you need me to continue? Cause I do have a lot more."

Parker bit his lip, slightly ashamed. "He doesn't hate you."

"Oh really? Because I'm pretty sure the last thing he ever said to me was 'Leo Wyatt, I hate you and I never want to see you again.' I'm just trying to do what he asks, for once."

"He was 15! 15 year olds say a lot of hateful things they don't mean, especially to their parents."

"I didn't come when he needed me the most." Leo was serious. "And his mother...your mother, Paige, they all died because of it."

"You did what you were able to do. You had something important going on Up There, and you didn't know that was going to happen, so for the one time in your life, you put the world on mute and the unimaginable happened. You couldn't help not hearing him, Uncle Leo. And, he's your son. I know he doesn't hate you; I'm an empath, remember?" He grinned. "I just think he's really, really angry at you."

"See, right there." Leo replied, a sad smile on his face. "Grown up too soon. No 17 year should have that much insight."

"Whatever. I just consider myself leaps and bounds ahead of everybody else my age." He said with a grin. "But we'll get back to that later. You said you needed to see me about what's going on right now."

"Right." Leo said, switching back to his business like demeanor. "I know you all down here think the few of us remaining are neutral and just minding out own business but it's not what we're doing. You have to remember, Wyatt is my son too."

"Believe me, no one will ever forget." Parker replied with a sarcastic role of the eye. Leo replied with a scolding look, but continued undeterred.

"I still see Wyatt sometimes, talk to him, and because I'm not in a Resistance against him, he talks back. And while it's not normally near pleasant, I'm still his father, and I raised him...mostly." He added at Parker's pointed look. It was no secret that Leo had been somewhat absent as a father as the boys grew older. "Anyway, I can tell his personality and I can read between the lines with him. If I took an official stance against him with the Resistance...I really just don't want to think about what he'd be capable of doing to me."

"So instead you just play nice and neutral?" Parker replied sarcastically. "Yeah, that's what you should do."

"You're not listening to me!" Leo exclaimed, surprising Parker with the uncharacteristic surge of emotion. "We're not nice and neutral; those of us who are left of the Elder's and other higher powers, we read. We listen, and watch recordings of conversations, memories, events that we are able to find record of, everything! We have been researching the past 24 years to see if we can find anywhere where something may have gone wrong." He ended with a sigh, as if relieved to get the news of his chest. Parker sat, stumped.

"Wow. Why haven't you ever said anything about this before?"

"We try and keep tight-lipped. Part of our advantage is that I am Wyatt's father and he lets things slip from time to time to me, things he'd never let anyone else know. That and I have a connection with him. Taking a stronger stance, or news getting out that we've been spying on him, working against him? He'd sever the connection and God knows what else."

"Advantage?" Parker asked. "You're talking as if you made some headway."

"We seem to have."

Parker stared expectantly. "Well?!"

"Well," Leo began, drawing it out unintentionally. "We think we know what turned Wyatt. And we also think we know how we might be able to stop it."

Jubilance shot through Parker like flame and he had to physically remind himself to not get too excited. "How? When? What?"

Leo held up a hand to calm him and his questioning. "Well, actually, that's why I called you here to tell you it. We have a plan, and it just so happens to involve the Charmed Ones."

------

Thwonk.

A ball bounced back to Chris on the bed and sat at the foot of it on the floor. He stared at it for a moment, contemplating getting out of bed to get it, but shrugged and rested back against the wall. He flicked his wrist up, raising the ball into mid-air, and throwing it at stringy net hanging on the back of the door. It swiftly fell through the net and bounced on the floor. With a sigh, he swung his legs over the bed's edge and relaxed. He needed to get to work, and he needed to, as much as he hated to, talk to the Charmed Ones.

A knock sounded at the door. As he reached for a white undershirt and pulled it over his head, he replied with a muffled invite in.

As he looked up, he came face to face with Piper entering the room. He looked away quickly. "Oh. It's you."

"Yeah, yeah, I wanted to talk to you...after earlier."

"Yeah. I figured you might."

"Parker said you were a little uncomfortable still."

"Oh, he did? I'll have to thank him." Chris bit back, easing into a chair behind his desk.

"This isn't easy going for me either, you know." She began slowly, standing back. He avoided her eyes, leaning back in his chair and staring at his hands as his fiddled with his fingers. "I mean, seeing him, like that...and then finding out that you...that you're..."

"A Halliwell as well? I guess it's pretty shocking." His lips curved into a wry smile.

"That you're my son, as well. And yeah, shocking is a tad bit of an understatement." She laughed nervously, then hesitantly sat on the couch adjacent to the desk. "I didn't come in here to throw around an accusation, or get you mad at me. I...I just wanted to see if you were okay."

He looked up at her then and he could see the nervousness on her face, and tears that were shining in her eyes. She was afraid he didn't like her, didn't want to see her, that he was just against her, and he knew it. How else was she to think after the way he'd been treating her and his aunts? He sighed.

"I'm okay, in a relative sense. I'm not dead, so yeah, I'm okay."

"Why didn't you tell me? Before we went, why didn't you say anything?"

"Didn't I? Didn't I hint at it, when I showed you around San Francisco?"

Her cheeks burned. "I suppose...yes, you did. And I'm sorry I didn't get it, it's just..."

"In your time, Wyatt's only 6 months old. You won't find out you're pregnant again until well after his 1st birthday. It's understandable that that, in itself, would make you blind to pretty much anything else." He chuckled at her nervousness, trying to lighten the mood. "It's okay, Piper. I'm okay."

"Okay, well. What now?"

He studied her, sitting there, playing with his hands in a same nervous fashion that he had been earlier and the reality of it made the stubborn fire inside of him extinguish. As much as he wanted to avoid the truth, or deny it, it had been staring him in the face since they'd arrived. The way she played with her hands as she was uncomfortable, the way she smiled wryly, the way she moved or smelled...it was his mother, just younger. And it was him. One didn't just inherit their parents' looks, but also part of their personality, a part of themselves and at any age that she appeared, he was going to have accept that he couldn't just ignore this. He swallowed.

"Well, I guess we need to figure out how to get you guys home." He paused. "Would you like to help me brainstorm a little?"

She smiled and nodded; she recognized a proverbial olive branch when she was offered one. "I would like that."

"Okay then." He said, lurching forward and clapping his hands together. "Let's get started, hm? If you want to invite the aunts in too, you can. I was gonna call Bianca in, everybody else too."

Piper smiled, noting he hadn't even caught himself as he referred to her sisters. She nodded. "I'll go get them all. Cary, Callie, Prue too?"

He nodded, and then stopped. "Is Parker back yet?"

She shook her head. "I don't think so..."

"Does anybody know where he went?"

"He just said he was meeting with someone." She shrugged. "He's only been gone about an hour."

"Yeah, well..." He sighed. "Just bring everyone in here, and then if he's not back in half an hour, we'll go looking for him. In light of recent events, none of the known members of our Resistance should be out for long."

She nodded and got up, pausing as she stood in front of the dilapidated sofa. "You know, I know this is weird and out of place, and awkward but..." She hesitated, wondering if she should say what she wanted to, then continued. People should hear things that would make themselves feel better about their actions. "But I wanted to say, that she would be proud of you. And I don't even know how to say it, because I'm her, just...younger, but if I had raised you...even though I guess I will raise you..." She shrugged. "I would be proud of you. And so she would be. And I am, I guess."

It was an awkward spiel, but it hit its mark. His heart swelled and he felt his throat finally swell with emotion, so he could only nod. "Thank you, Piper. That...that means a lot."

She nodded in response. "I'm gonna go get everybody, and then we can start."

She left without another word and he sighed, sitting up and grabbing notes and blank papers. If they were going to be brainstorming and figuring it out, they would have to be prepared.

------

Wyatt sat in his office where he had interrogated the man before having him killed days earlier. Two fingers pressed against pursed lips as he gazed out over the city of San Francisco, trying to guess which alleyway, which street his little brother's body had been left to die, to give out alone and cold. He had to hold himself in place and remind himself that Chris had betrayed him; had gone against him too many times and now, had existed as a real threat to his power. It was kill or be killed; he had no choice.

He had to keep telling himself that.

He spun the chair around with a growl of frustration. The early morning had come; it was almost 1 in the morning and he had expected someone to come back with Chris' body. The thought of it made him mournful for a moment, but he had to remind himself of what he saw as the only truth. And he hadn't killed his brother; if Chris hadn't survived, it was only because he wasn't strong enough.

The thought that Chris had survived suddenly struck him and he frowned. It was no secret that he had other magical allies.

As if to affirm his suspicions, two of his highest ranking men strode into the room, heads down and nervous. "Well?" He demanded.

"He was picked up sir."

With an aggravated sigh, Wyatt closed his eyes and began to reach out. It was possible, by concentrating, that he could pick up his family's presence from hundreds of miles away.

And there it was; like a bright, shining beacon, Chris' presence shined in his mind. He growled in frustration, partially due to the uncontrollable sliver of relief that coursed through his veins. Chris was alive.

He couldn't pin-point it though. "That's it." Wyatt spat. "I want the location of their little rebellion located and I want to be informed of it. Yesterday!"

"Yes sir...although, it may take a day or so..."

The man was cut off, making a gurgling noise as Wyatt's eyes narrowed and he was lifted into the air. "Now, Kenny; you know I hate those pessimistic outlooks. Let's try a more glass half full approach, hm? Can you do that?"

Kenny struggled to talk, to mouth something, to exclaim and beg to be released. Just as he looked to be fading, Wyatt dropped him to the ground where he writhed, clutching at his chest, coughing hard. The other man stood still at attention, awaiting orders. Wyatt relaxed, sitting back in his chair. "I want that site found. You have 72 hours to get word back to me. Prepare everyone for a full scale attack. We are going to finish this ridiculous uprising, once in for all."

"Yes sir." The standing man said. As Wyatt swiveled his chair to face the window paneling once more to overlook the city, the man at attention kicked the one named Kenny, who was still bent over, willing his trachea to stop throbbing. Kenny yelped softly, before pulling himself to his feet.

"Yes sir." He echoed in a whisper.

"And another thing."

"Yes, Lord Wyatt?"

"Find who rescued him." He ordered, staring blankly at the city. "I would like to have a chat with the man who found and healed him. Start with my father."

"Yes sir." The men said together, relieved at an assignment seemingly much easier to the first. They exited then without another sound, leaving Lord Wyatt Halliwell to sit brooding over his domain, a calculating glint never softening in his gaze. It was time to end this...one way or another.