I'd like to thank the Anonymous for their review. (I think they deserve to feel crappy too.) ;-)
Carla-Leigh: Yeah, I actually saw a Chrillie video on youtube that got me hooked on them.
ChickenBake: One of the best on the site… Thanks! You really know how to make an author update quick.
Reviews inspire me to update faster!
Oh and obviously I don't own Charmed.
Enjoy!

Memories. Noun. One word. Three syllables. What marks our time on this Earth. Is it the memories we accumulate or as simple as days on a calendar?

In the darkest hours before dawn, Piper Halliwell sits in the nursery rocking her daughter sleeping soundly in her arms. She loved her daughter more than life itself. She was her little miracle baby she saw in a trip to the future. But her son had to die; he had to be forgotten so that she could be born. And Piper wasn't sure how to feel about that. Her eyes stung from the strain of continuous crying.

Her son…

How could he ever forgive his mother for forgetting her son? How would she ever forgive herself? When it came to Chris, Piper felt she could never get anything right. It was bad enough she barely tolerated him before he was her son and now this. He died to save his big brother and she couldn't even do him the courtesy of remembering him. She forgot her own son! Could she even call herself a mother after that?

Her self-loathing is interrupted by shimmering blue and white lights of orbs. When they form into her son, her heart leaps out of her chest and she scrambles to her feet careful not to jostle the baby girl in her arms. However, he seemed oblivious to her presence. With his back towards her, Chris moved over to his little/older brother's bed and smiled.

After he died, he still kept a connection to Wyatt. He'd sneak into the nursery and watch his little brother sleep, occasionally visit him at daycare, and spend time with him without the sisters' knowledge. Even in death, Chris's heart remained pure and his eyes ever vigilant. His eyes stayed on Wyatt before turning ninety degrees to sneak a peek into Mel's crib. He still didn't see Piper but Piper saw him. She saw the fear in his eyes when he saw she was missing from her crib.

Piper: She's okay.

After nearly jumping out of his skin, Chris turns to look at his mother. Her eyes were red rimmed, skin blotchy. She'd been crying, balling actually and odds were that she'd been at it for hours. That tension he felt during their last encounter was present if not stronger.

Chris: You remembered?
Piper: Yes.
Chris: Wow. Only eleven months too late.
Piper: Chris I—

He put up his hand to silence her. Whatever she was going to say he just didn't want to hear it. After a while I'm sorry loses its shine, apologies lose meanings, and he loses faith. He picks up Wyatt's teddy bear off the floor and puts it back under the sleeping boy's arm.

Chris: Let me just save you the trouble. You're not my mother, Piper. You don't owe me anything and frankly I don't want anything.
Piper: Of course, I'm still your mother. We've got a bond that can't be broken, Chris.
Chris: Bonds break all the time, Piper. Before you were still my mother because I still gonna be born; we may not of had the same experiences yet but one day you'd be the woman that raised me. Now that's not going to happen. You'll never be the woman that taught me how to ride a two-wheeler or tucked me in at night. That woman's gone. She died when I turned fourteen. You don't know me Piper.

Piper watches as her son disappears in a shower of orbs. He did have a point. She didn't know but she was going to change that with a little magic.

Billie finishes applying her lip gloss and looks in the mirror a final time before she gives herself the seal of approval. Then she slowly returns everything on the bathroom countertop back into her makeup bag. That's when she feels him behind her, arms slowly wrapping around her waist. The skin of his forearm brushes against the exposed midriff peeking out from beneath the flowy silhouette of her sherbet red strapless cami.

Suddenly, her heart skips a beat as she meets his gaze in the mirror- green meets green. She feels like she is lost in a jungle or tropical rainforest every time she looks into his eyes. She imagines herself getting lost in the endless maze of trees and veins making her their willing prisoner. He spreads a few kisses down her neck; her breath hitches and she feels those sparks surging through her body again.

Chris: 'There was the black solitude of the islands,
and there, woman of love, your arms took me in.
There was thirst and hunger, and you were the fruit.
There were grief and ruins, and you were the miracle.'
Billie: Christopher Benjamin Hall, or whatever your name is. Are you trying to seduce me with the words of Pablo Neruda?
Chris: Definitely.
Billie: Well it's working.

With her words she turns to face him, pressing her body up against his. It amazed her how perfectly she fit against him… almost as if they were made for each other. He brushes away a few strands of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear and leaving his hand to linger on the side of her neck. Her heart rate picks up beneath his fingers and he commits the feeling to memory.

He wants to remember everything about her in this moment: the touch of his hand on her soft flawless skin, every line and every curve of her face, the way she kinks an eyebrow trying to be flirty. Finally the desire to obtain what he craves drives him to lean in and let his hand guide her closer, just a fraction of an inch.

She feels everything fall away. Every worry. Every fear. Gone. All that remains is two people falling madly, deeply in love. Their lips lock and the kiss deepens; their passions threating to devour them. They part briefly as he sweeps his arms around her waist and he gives her that classic Halliwell smirk. Up onto the counter he lifts her and immediately occupies the space between her legs, kissing her again; this time in a slower more sensual manner. That single moment could have lasted for all eternity as far as Chris is concerned. But like most moments and most good things, it came to an end.

There's no denying the stabbing pain suddenly erupting in the back of his skull. It feels like someone's drilling at the wall he'd strategically placed to keep his sanity- keeping repressed memories repressed. Out of instinct his hands go to the back of his head to try and physically hold it in place.

Billie: Chris? Chris what's going on?
Chris: S-some-someone's in my head.

He staggers back only a few steps and collapsed into an unconscious heap on the floor.

Town Square (Chris's mind)

The city lay in ruins. Buildings were demolished, the sounds of demons rioting in the street echoed around her, and smoke was rising from fires burning merrily away in the streets. Huge, black clouds covered the city in darkness. Everything about this future is evil, even the weather.

The devastation that was San Francisco made her sick. Maybe it wasn't the visual as much as it was the olfactory senses. The smell of decomposing bodies cooking in the hellacious climate. Or maybe she was right the first time. She's never been the squeamish type but the crimson blood and graying ashes sprayed over the rubble and piles of corpses would traumatize anyone. So engrossed in the scene, she didn't realize the figure in the distance.

Chris: Piper what the hell did you do?

The heinous popping noises of gunfire sounded friendly compared to his tone. She turns to face him taken aback momentarily. She expected to see her neurotic witchlighter son and not Sergeant Halliwell- covered head to toe in camouflage and ready for battle.

Piper: Chris…
Chris: I said what the hell'd you do!
Piper: It was a spell.
Chris: A spell! Jesus Christ Piper… do you realize that your snooping may just cost me my sanity… my life, our lives?

At a phantom noise he gripped his M16A2 semi-automatic combat rifle a little tighter and looked for an exit. The format of the city wasn't the same as the future. The buildings were shifted into a maze like format. He hated mazes… has since he was a kid and got lost in a haunted maze at the spook hike.

Piper: Chris, I'm sorry… I—
Chris: Save it Piper!

She jumps back again as if she's been scalded by boiling water. He spoke to her with the same bitter disgust he used in regards to Lord Wyatt. Despite everything, she didn't deserve it.; in her own crazed way, she was trying to help… to understand… to love and be loved. Could he really hold her accountable for that?

Chris: Look, I'm sorry but this isn't really the time or place. We've got to get the hell out of here. What kind of spell was it?
Piper: I just wanted to understand you… and I casted a spell to see the memories that made you who you are.

Do we make the events in our lives or did the events in our lives make us? At that moment he thought of the millions- maybe billions- of seconds that led to where they were now. Was it the tragedies that morph us, the good moments, the bad, the sad, maybe a combination. Chris wasn't sure but he was positive he'd soon find out.

Chris: Well that's fan-freaking-tastic! Let's move so we can get through this as quick and painless as possible.

He stares at the streets he could go down quite literally realizing he's standing at a crossroads. Eyeing the two momentarily, he opts to go left. Before starting his quest, he takes his gun and fires bullets into the corner of the building at the beginning of the road so he'll know which path he took in case he makes a wrong turn down the road.

He takes her hand in his and keeps his stony expression, despite her smile. It was the first physical contact they had since she hugged him goodbye one year, one week, and one day ago… not that she did the math or anything. He moved swift, hiding in door frames as he moved, for fear of something or someone actually being there. It didn't take long until he hit a dead end.

Chris: Fuck.
Piper: Language!

He rolls his eyes and goes to turn around but finds his feet glued to the floor. Then on the flat dingy white wall a memory from his head was projected.

(Six years old, birthday, Halliwell Manor)

A small boy appears on the wall. She captures the sight of her little boy as a little boy- with a longer version of a crew cut, knobby knees, innocence in his eyes, and a genuine smile that shows he doesn't have a care in the world. It's hard to look at the battle hardened soldier next to her and see that boy.

Piper: Aww…You were so cute.
Chris: I still am.

He pads his way down the hall and into Paige's room which was apparently his in the unchanged future. The walls are light blue with a royal blue and red plaid with subtle hints of yellow. He had shelves full of books, pictures of family and friends, and his own masterpieces. Toys were everywhere… hot wheels, army men, legos in a bin by the door, board games on his shelf, and a half-finished masterpiece on a table by the window.

Right beside his bed was a basketball; on the nightstand a Superman action figure. Seeing the figure she realizes everything in his room was Superman: his bedspread, lampshades, furniture. Turning her attention back to the boy she watches him tie a superman cape around his neck and start jumping on the bed. Back then he could fly, or so he imagined.

Piper: Hey Peanut!
Chris: Hi momma!
Piper: Whatcha' doing?
Chris: Just jumpin'

Her usual distaste for him jumping on the bed dissipated the moment she lays eyes on the ear to ear grin and beginning of a mischievous laughter fit. She really was a good mom. The best, of course he was a little bias.

Piper: What? You think you can get away with breaking the rules just because it's you're birthday.
Chris: (With a small fit of laughter and growth of his smile) Yeah!
Piper: I see.

She makes it seem as though, she's moving towards the door in exit but does a stutter step and races towards the youngster, sweeping him up in her arms, and spinning him around. They crash land on the bed and she immediately begins tickling his underarms and underneath his chin.

Piper: You seem happy.
Chris: Of course I do. They're showing you things that shaped me into the man I am.
Piper: (teasingly) Turning six?
Chris: A mother's love.

A mother's love. It's the most unconditional, pure gift he has ever been given. Before that moment in time she taught him how to ride a bike, tie his shoes, read a book, and count by twos. She'd go on to teach him life lessons and be his guiding light. His mother's love directed him towards the right path. She helped him make his first steps.

He took a step forward and touched the stilled image of Piper- the Piper that was his. The Piper of 2005 stares at the young man taking note of the sides of his lips faintly turning upward. Watching her, watching him, his smile vanishes and he walks back down the path they took the last turn at.

Chris: Let's get out of this god forsaken place.

Uncharacteristically, Piper bites her tongue and lets Chris lead the way. Through the maze he moves more strategically, fearful of what other memories might come up. It felt like they'd been moving for hours and he was thankful. As he went to mark a corner with his bullets, he found there was no more ammo in his gun. Without hesitation, he pulls his knife from his ankle strap and cuts open his hand, causing Piper to gasp.

Piper: Have you lost your mind?
Chris: Considering we're in it, I'd have to say no. It's just another way to mark our path Piper. I want to get home as quickly as possible.

Home. There was that word again, only this time he used in reference to the year 2005, to his apartment, and to Billie. Of course, Piper misinterpreted him. The manor was home to her and she figured it was the same for her son. And it was… once upon a time but not now.

Again, they moved in silence racing down the paths but only got through two or three turns before hitting another dead end. Immediately he recognizes the image appearing on screen and demanded in his best no nonsense voice.

Chris: Piper, look away.
Piper: What? No.
Chris: Look away!
Piper: Why?
Chris: Because.
Piper: Because why?
Chris: Because this…this is the moment my mother dies.

Realizing the implications of his words paralyzes the woman. She wanted to run, scream, cry… do something. Instead the seasoned veteran stood there watching the newly fourteen year old version of her son walking slid into wearing a black band tee and a pair of jeans with a whole in the knee and wrapped his mother in a hug from behind.

Chris: Hey mom.
Piper: Hey Peanut. How was school.
Chris: It was school. Are those peanut butter cookies for me.
Piper: Nope. They're for the birthday boy.
Chris: Well he's a lucky man.
Piper: (laughing) Go wash up and they're all yours birthday boy.
Chris: Yes ma'am.

With a mock salute and an orb, the teen was in the upstairs washroom vigorously trying to get the grime off his hands he'd accumulated in auto shop. Going to mortal school for the first semester and spending the second at magic school was his idea, one he never used to regret. His mother was happy he kept some remnant of a normal life and he was happy he got out of school at 2:40 instead of 3:30 like his cousins and brother.

A loud crash sends a race of panic, tearing through him. He didn't even shut off the sink, just disappeared in a shower of orbs without a moment's hesitation. It was only a minute- the time it took for him to get upstairs, wash his hands, and get back down. But in that moment his whole world changed.

His plan was to go from the dining room, knowing his mother wasn't fond of him blindly orbing into danger but the danger wasn't just in the kitchen like he'd suspected. Immediately he's greeted with a vicious right hook from a demon with the power of invisibility. He'd taken his fair share of blows but none were as distinctive as the blow supplied by the Omnitaxler demons. Not only do they hurt like hell but they send you reeling. A few steps back; that's all it took to get strike one.

In Chris's perspective, a fight is sort of like baseball in the sense that you get three strikes. Three strikes, three major strikes, and it's game over. His backpedaling brought him back into the hallway or as he liked to call it the room of expensive breakables.

Another Omnitaxler demon was quick to take advantage of Chris's misfortune. An extended arm takes him by the back of his head and thrusts him forward into the glass casing of the antique grandfather clock. Again and again he slammed the young witchlighter's head into the glass.

Every collision his head made with the heirloom was accompanied by a fierce lacerating pain. Every slice the glass makes into his flesh, every micro fracture his skull makes into the glass, he feels. His mind is so consumed by the immensity of the pain that he relies solely on instinct to pull him out of such a sticky situation.

His hands go out to the wall on either side, bracing; the severity of another impact avoided. Then, blindly, a swing of the elbow is made followed by a connection. Cartilage crunched as it connected. At the sound of a thud, he turns and, to his surprise, the demon flashes back to visible. An almost animalistic instinct to protect his family drove Chris to take a shard from the casing and drive it through the demons heart.

A demented happiness came about as the demon erupted in flames. However, he doesn't get the pleasure of basking in his first solo kill for long. Another cry sends the boy with a crimson mask racing into the dining room whipping his hands out to clear a path just in case any other demons stood in his way.

Chris: This is the last time I can warn you to look away Piper. What's beyond those doors will haunt you for the rest of your life.
Piper: If you have to live with it than I can too.
Chris: Who says I could?

Before she could ask what that meant, her eyes wonder over to the projected image where strike two occurred. His entrance into the kitchen was missed but what wasn't were two of the Omnitaxler demons coming from behind. He failed to be aware of his surroundings and for that he paid the price. They took his right arm, realizing his powers are hand oriented. Then he drives it into the wood of the door frame with that uncanny force.

Combining the force with the angel was perfect for damaging the first to carpal bones; his first limb injury in his heroic endeavor. The pain was enough for him to want to cry but he knows Wyatt wouldn't cry. He'd fight back. The second collision was above the triquetrum and caused another break and a possible sprang to the hamate.

The sickening crack of each collision area enough to send chills up anyone's spine and his bloodcurdling screams were devastating enough to wake his unconscious mother. Out of instinct, she threw her hands up in a menacing gesture and caused the demons attacking her son to spontaneously combust.

Piper Halliwell was a good mother. She loved her sons and would give anything to protect them. This time it was her life. As her son fell to the floor she stood up leaving behind a pool of blood where her head laid.

Chris: Before you asked me what I've been living with; knowing something happened to you. I stayed quiet but what I really should have said was you weren't entirely right. I was living with knowing that my mother died because of me.

She wanted to reassure him that it wasn't true. She was just being a good mother. But her eyes were glued to the scene unfolding, wanting to see how he could possibly blame himself. She wanted to see how she would die and hopefully take preventative measures.

She made her way over to her son, stepping on the cookies spilt on the floor. That's when an Omnitaxler demon became visible again. He was different from the others, more deformed and menacing. What caught his attention most was the fact that it had three blades protruding from its green knuckles that vaguely reminds him of Wolverine.

Chris: Look out!

His call wasn't fast enough the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle looking demon stabbed her straight through. Then the demon shimmered out before Chris could do a thing about it. He scrambles to his feet and is by his mother's side before she could fall.

Chris: It's okay mom. I got you. Just hold on okay? Wyatt! Leo! Paige! Henry! Damn it anyone!

She was the perfect mother to the bitter end. Her hand went out and gently grazed his cheek. He was about to whisper soothing words but found himself too choked up. Her hand pulled his face towards hers, staring him right in the eye- her warm brown ones looking into his green ones. Then she choked out words she wanted him to believe with all his heart.

Piper: I… love… you, Peanut. Everything'll be okay.

He tries to look away, unable to accept her parting words. She brings his face back to hers to put as much emphasis as possible, willing him to understand. Her breathing had hitched and her lips were turning purple. The shallowness of her breath jumped to nonexistent so he pulled her close kissed her head and made a plea.

Chris: Hold on mom. I'll get you help!

In a flash he was in magic school holding his mother in his arms. If it wasn't for adrenaline, he wouldn't be standing. He collapses on the floor in Paige's office screaming help as loud as he could. She came running in without a moment's hesitation.

Paige: Chris? What?
Chris: Help her! Please!

Tears fill her eyes and she tries so many times to heal her sister before turning to her nephew.

Paige: I can't heal the dead.

Hot tears streamed freely down the matriarch's eyes as she stares at the stilled image of her son cradling her body. The expression on his face was one no one should have to wear- an expression of not just heart breaking but your heart shattering. His heart shattered and he looked so horribly broken that she felt sick. 'How could she put her son through so much heartbreak?'

Sensing that she wasn't going to be able to pull herself away from the image, Chris did it for her. He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her into an embrace. Tears soak his shirt as he fights his own. They stood there for a moment, regaining composure and finding their voices.

Chris: They're Omnitaxler demons. They successfully break up the Power of Three in my time.
Piper: Are you saying that's my fate?
Chris: No. It was my mother's fate. In your timeline, Omnitaxler demons are extinct. I made sure of it myself. You won't die when Melinda turns fourteen.
Piper: I'm sorry.
Chris: For?
Piper: That you had to lose your mother at such a young age…That you had to relive it and comfort me when I should be the grown up and comforting you.

He stares at her a moment, his eyes bleeding a wide array of emotions. He doesn't give her much more than that. She thinks it's because of her but really it's the simple fact that if he lets himself ponder it, allows himself to feel how he felt that day, he may never get out of this god forsaken maze.

Chris: I'm a big boy, Piper. Let's keep moving

Leo Wyatt woke to an empty bed. Concern for his wife immediately swelled over his already traumatized heart. Soundlessly, he got out of bed and looked into the nursery only to find his sleeping children, and searched the main level only to find the other sisters sitting at the table drinking what looked like their fourth or fifth cups of coffee. The bags under their eyes were prominent as well as the tear stains on their cheeks.

Leo: Hey have either of you seen Piper?
Phoebe: No. I thought she was in the nursery.
Leo: No, I already checked. Maybe she's in the attic.

Paige: Uh oh, I got jingling.
Phoebe: You don't think it's from the mystery blonde, do you?
Leo: Go see what she wants! Maybe she's with Chris.

While Paige orbed out, Phoebe and Leo went to check the attic for Piper. To their relief she was sleeping on the couch. Leo's sigh was audible as he walked across the room and took a place on the edge of the cushion. He gently shakes her a bittersweet smile on his face.

Leo: Piper, honey, wake up.

When she didn't stir worry caused his heart to constrict again and he became increasingly panicked.

Leo: Piper, wake up! (to phoebe) Phoebe, she's not waking up.

As Leo checked her pulse and pupils, Phoebe caught sight of a tablet of paper with something scribbled on it. She immediately picked up the tablet and read the words in her head, eyes getting bigger with each word.

Phoebe: Leo, she cast a spell to see into Chris's mind.

Paige orbed into the apartment to see her charge pacing back and forth nervously trying to figure out what to do with her incapacitated boyfriend that she dragged out into their bedroom. She lets out a shriek and nearly sends Paige telekinetically flying across the room

Billie: No, no, no. I really can't deal with you right now. We're in the middle of a crisis.
Paige: Hey, you're the one that jingled.
Billie: I what?
Paige: I'm your whitelighter and you were in distress so I came. So, are you gonna tell me what's the problem?
Billie: Chris and I were—

She lets the last letter linger as she turns the lightest shade of red. She's never been one to have a boyfriend but telling his aunt about sexual escapades didn't seem like the brightest move.

Billie: Doing demon research when he stumbled backwards, said someone's in his head, and hit the floor.

Paige raised an eyebrow that spoke volumes and crinkled her nose at the thought of what her nephew and charge were really up to. But she quickly tosses it aside when she sees her nephew on the other side of the bed. Quickly she races to his side and checks his vitals.

Paige: We'll get him to the manor and see if there's anything we can do.
Billie: That might not be the best idea. He's not exactly team Halliwell now a days.
Paige: Well he can hate us all he wants after he's better now come on!

Just a quick orb later the three arrived at in the attic.

Paige: Hey guys we got a whitelighter down… and apparently a sister. What's wrong with Piper!
Phoebe: Seems our sister decided it'd be smart to see Chris's memories.
Billie: And apparently Chris had to accompany her.
Phoebe: Exactly! Wait. Who are you?

He wasn't sure how they'd hit another wall so quickly but they had. Piper let out a loud curse, not sure she could face another hellacious memory so soon.

Chris: (teasingly) Language..! Relax Piper. I think this is a good memory.

The eight year old, Christopher Perry Halliwell looked up to his brother more than anything. He'd follow him around and study him wanting to be just like his big brother. But he wasn't. He'd rather play with a skateboard than a football, read a book than watch a movie, be on the honor roll than be captain of a team. But on that summer day he decided to skip the skate park and play tag along with his big brother much to Wyatt's dismay.

Chris: Hey Wy, how many assists are you gonna give me?
Wyatt: I don't know, Chris. What time did you say mom was going to pick you up?
Chris: She's not. She said that I get to spend the day with you!
Wyatt: Awesome.

Wyatt's response was less than enthused but Chris chose to ignore it. They got to the basketball courts at the park where Wyatt's friends were gearing up for another football game. The second Wyatt came up, they cheered. He was the twice blessed and the golden boy. He was one of the captains they picked until Chris was standing alone in the lineup.

Wyatt: Alright, we got Chris.
Random boy #1: Aw come on Wyatt! He stinks.

Chris lowered his head and Wyatt elbowed the boy in the ribcage.

Wyatt: Don't listen to him Chris. (Gets closer to his brother and whispers his plan) Ya' got it?
Chris: Yeah!

The second the ball was inbounded Wyatt took off for the basket in a dead sprint. The defense caved in on him just as he anticipated they would and he passed the ball to a wide open Chris. The ball went into his hands and he smoothly shot at the wide open hoop with absolute precision.

SWISH!

Wyatt: That's right baby! Don't mess with the Halliwell Brothers.

Piper: Aw…
Chris: Yeah, yeah.
Piper: What was that memory supposed to show me? Brother bond?
Chris: That's the moment I decided I'd do anything for my big brother and the moment I fell in love with the game.

Memories are what we make them. Some are immortal like permanent ghosts, stamped, inked, imprinted eternally within our minds while others are erased, cast aside or eternally repressed, held behind lock and key. Either way your time is defined. Memories, actions, roads we take mold us into the people we are. The good, the bad, the sad- memories make us who we are. Our memories are our stories, our literature, the soundtracks our lives… And Chris's are about to get a lot more interesting.

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