Author's Notes: Charmed4eva112, those are some good questions! Except I can't...confirm or deny any of them without giving away plot, and that's not right ;) Mwahaha. Here's chapter nine, though! So! Please enjoy, as always!! (Don't own them, either!)

I'm sure this will be shocking enough for the lot of you!

Chris couldn't sleep that night. After he and his Aunt Paige had taken care of Sophie—which had been hard for him—he orbed right back to the manor, not even realizing that he had left Landon at the club all alone and by himself. He was sufficiently distracted, frustrated, uncomfortable, and depressed enough for it to slip his mind with little difficulty. It wasn't exactly the best mood to be in, either. Both of his siblings were out, as it was a Friday night, but his mom and dad were still at home. They had tried to speak with him about what had happened; Chris, however, didn't want anything to do with it. This was the first charge that he had ever lost, and he was taking it hard.

Through some miracle—and the help of Nyquil—he was able to get to sleep that night. But his mind was racked with guilt; guilt that manifested itself in dreams that replayed what had happened, and that inserted other charges of his into Sophie's position. They became worse and worse until he finally awoke with a start, bolting upright in his bed. He ran his hand over his face and down his chest, both of which were covered with a light sheen of sweat. He could feel the pounding of his heart everywhere in his body, and it made it hard to swallow. For a moment, he felt nauseous, like he was going to throw up.

Chris looked to his right. Wyatt was lying in his own bed on top of his covers, and was fast asleep. According to the clock on the nightstand it was just after two in the morning. And, from the looks of it, Wyatt was still wearing his street clothes. He must have just gotten home. Chris felt a sudden urge of anger and dislike inside of him; he had no right to be mad at Wyatt for what had happened—it had been his own fault for not orbing Sophie right away to someone who could heal—but still, he couldn't help being angry about it. He felt almost betrayed, which he knew was overdoing it.

It wasn't something he was proud of.

He knew that it was going to be hard to go back to bed feeling as he was, and so Chris slowly crawled out of bed, quietly heading out into the hallway. Being out of his warm sheets and comforter helped to get him feeling a little less flustered, because he didn't feel so confined. That was one of the good things about the manor: even with as many people living in it as there were, it still felt open and not quite as claustrophobic as beds and sheets did.

Once Chris was downstairs, he looked around, rubbing at his eyes. He had no idea what he wanted to do—he just knew that he needed to get up and do something. Food was out of the question, since he still felt somewhat sick...and he could feel the slight beginning of a headache, so he didn't want to watch television. About the only thing there was to do was just walk around the manor or maybe lie down on the couch in the parlor. The latter didn't sound all that bad, really…it would be nice and cool, and probably more comfortable than his own bed for the time being.

Grabbing one of the pillows from the couch in the sitting room—it was more comfortable than the ones on the other couch—he headed into the parlor and reached down to push off the fluffy, trimmed pillows off onto the floor. He didn't understand why his mother had those, even for decoration. What was more, he didn't understand why his dad let them be there. Then, his dad didn't seem to have much say in the decoration of the manor…so that was probably why.

He crawled onto the couch then, stretching out a little bit. It was going to take a minute to find a comfortable position, especially since he felt somewhat…antsy, like his body couldn't sit still. It must have been the adrenaline that was coursing through him from the vividness of the dream he had had moments before waking up. The moment he closed his eyes the images from his dreams came popping back into his head. Chris opened his eyes up immediately, then almost groaned. Maybe a little more Nyquil would fix things.

Just as he was about to get up, he heard something rustling around in the bushes nearby. Normally he would have ignored it, but it sounded like something much bigger than just a raccoon or a cat. It might have been a dog…only that wouldn't explain why he saw something tall moving by the windows and door across the way and through into the conservatory.

Something that looked like…a person.

Chris sat up right away and got up, albeit very, very slowly. The last thing he wanted to do was notify the person out there that someone could see them. The conservatory's white walls and white floor tended to cast an eerie sort of pale light through into the sitting room, dining room and parlor, which would make it easier for them to see him if he moved too suddenly. He opted to go through the foyer and around, because cutting through the conservatory would give him nowhere to hide. It was one of the reasons he didn't just orb, too.

God, he thought, he didn't need this right now. With his luck, it was going to be some mortal thief that was trying to break into their house because they thought they could. Well, they had another thing coming, that was for sure.

He had just made it into the dining room when he heard the sound of the conservatory door latch clicking, and the familiar squeaking of its hinges. The sound of an unfamiliar voice—a female's—entered his ears. Chris swallowed hard. Whoever they were hadn't even messed with the lock on the door! It confused him a little, because he didn't know of any demons that wouldn't just shimmer or blink inside. And ones that would attack this late at night…they usually had something very specific in mind, and it was usually something sinister.

Without even thinking of waiting, Chris jumped away from his hiding spot behind the wall and stuck his hand out, prepared to attack the demon with full force. He was glad that he didn't use his telekinesis right away, however, because who he saw standing there nearly made him do a double take.

"Mel?"

Chris' baby sister, Melinda, was standing in the conservatory, looking mighty confused. But that confusion soon turned into apparent discomfort and slight irritation when she glanced at her brother's hand. She folded her arms over her chest. "Were you going to attack me?"

Chris put his hand back at his side. "I thought you were a demon." He shook his head. "What the hell are you doing up so late? And what were you doing outside?"

"None of your damn business," Mel snapped petulantly. She started heading for the stairs not too far away. "I'm gonna head up to bed."

"Like hell you are."

The elder Halliwell slid to the side to block his sister's path. When Melinda tried going the other way, Chris slid that way. The two of them did this a few more times before she finally groaned in frustration and pushed at her brother's chest.

"Get out of my way, Chris, I'm tired and I want to go to bed."

Chris narrowed his eyebrows. "You were home earlier, Mel. So why were you out there?"

"I told you to get out of my way." She pushed at him again, but with more force this time, which caused him to waiver just the tiniest bit.

He clearly didn't like it. "Was someone else out there with you?"

"I wasn't out there with anyone else, Chris.Jesus." Mel sounded clearly exasperated now. "Do you have to freaking spy on me now? You couldn't be any more pathetic, do you know that? You're absolutely freaking pathetic."

Before Chris realized what he had done, his hand was out and he pushed at his sister's stomach, using his telekinesis. Melinda went flying across the dining room and conservatory floors, coming in contact with one of the potted plants near the large, painted windows. She landed on one of them and caused them all to stumble and fall over with a loud crashing noise.

"I am sick," Chris began, stepping forward, "so freaking sick, of dealing with your shit, Mel. I'm sick of you treating me like crap; sick of you thinking that all I do is nag; sick of you telling me that I have no life, that I'll never have one, or that I'm pathetic. Because you know what? It isn't true. It's not. But if you're going to treat me like shit then you might as well get used to the same feeling."

His outburst could have been attributed to quite a few different things—the stress of having lost a charge; dealing with the issue of himself and Landon; dealing with his siblings, Mel in particular; caring for his family…but whatever it was, it had made Chris do something that he hadn't ever believed himself capable of doing. And in a way, it felt good. But just the same, he could feel guilt bubbling up in the back of his head.

That was quickly erased at the feeling of a sudden combustion near ribs, one that caused him to stumble back and twirl into one of the dining room table chairs. Although he couldn't see it—his focus was shot for the moment—he could hear his sister getting up and moving across the floor towards him. His first attack had been purely unprovoked, but now it was going to be in self-defense. He waved his hand at her and used his telekinesis again, hearing her shout out as she flew back into the conservatory with a thud.

This gave Chris just enough time to stand up and recuperate. He was feeling his wound when he saw his sister preparing to attack him again. He stuck up his hands. "Do it again and I swear to God, I'll orb you into the freaking port."

Melinda paused, her hands out in front of her. She was glaring daggers. "Only someone like you would attack their ownfamily. You're such a traitor."

Despite the anger that roared inside of him—the kind that made him want to throw his sister through the window and into the yard—something stopped him, and that something was the fact that he had never, ever in his lifetime heard his sister speak to anyone that coldly. Even when the two of them had been at each other's throats, it had never elevated to this bad of a level.

"This isn't you," Chris said, but slowly, as it dawned on him.

"Of course it's me you idiot," Mel said. "Who else would it be?"

"No…no." He looked at her, but carefully this time. He didn't approach her, however. "Something's got you, Mel. Something bad. I need to figure out what it is." The second he went to move he noticed her hands jerking, and his reaction was instantaneous. Chris shouted "Chair!" and pointed at Mel, then to the chair in the conservatory not too far away. His sister turned into a bundle of orbs before landing in the chair rather abruptly. Before she could do anything he stepped toward her, pointing, while saying, "In that chair bound you shall stay, and…you will do nothing until I say!"

It was as if ropes had tied Melinda in place, keeping her still while Chris turned around. He heard footsteps rushing down the stairs, and his mom, along with his dad and brother, all came bounding down the steps and into the sitting room.

"Chris!" Piper exclaimed in surprise.

"Something's got her, Mom, something—"

"Is there a demon in the house?" Wyatt, though it was obvious by his swaying stature and somewhat groggy tone that he was tired, stared down into the foyer. Leo headed through the dining room into the kitchen, while Piper approached her son and carefully touched the area around his wound.

Chris hissed a bit from the pain. "Mom—"

"—Chris, what happened?"

"Something's got a hold on Mel!" he finally managed to get out. "Something—I don't know what it is, but she—" All he could do then was point into the conservatory, where his sister was.

Piper noticed her stuck in the chair there, and she gave Chris a confused look before going towards her daughter. She flicked the light on, which caused Chris, along with Wyatt, to groan, due to the sudden brightness.

"Melinda—"

"She can't respond, Mom." Chris, still sort of gingerly touching the wound on his chest, headed into the conservatory, squinting. "I put a bind on her. Not her powers, but just…everything, until I said otherwise."

"Well, say otherwise!" Piper ordered.

"I don't think I should." It was brave to stand against his mother like that, but Chris felt very adamant about this. And when he saw the near violent look his mother gave him he stuck his hands up. "Let me explain first. Like I said, I think something's got a hold on her."

Around this time, Leo reappeared from the kitchen. "Everything's f…ine." He paused right at the moment he came into the conservatory. "What's going on?"

"Chris thinks something's got a hold on Melinda," Piper said, though she sounded a little exasperated. "And I'm tempted to undo his spell so that I can see if he's right."

"What…his spell?" Leo turned to Chris, but after Piper told him what he did, it made Leo frown. "You did what?"

There wasn't any time for this, Chris thought. Angrily, he said, "I put a freaking binding spell on her, okay? Would you people just listen to me?"

"Chris," Piper began, and with that chastising, yet loving tone that he had come to recognize quite well, "you've been under a lot of stress tonight. Why don't you just undo the spell and we can figure it out from there?"

It finally hit him. "Freeze her," he said. He pointed at Mel. "Watch. Freeze her, and I'll undo the spell. You'll see. Good witches don't freeze, and I don't think there's much of anything good in her right now."

Although there was clearly uncertainty in Piper's eyes, she did exactly what he asked, and she froze Melinda in place. She didn't move any more than she had before, however. Wyatt, who had come into the conservatory through the sitting room, had his arms folded over his chest and yawned.

"Did you just fall asleep in your clothes?" Leo asked him.

"I just got home about an hour ago," Wyatt said, and he shrugged.

"Undo it," Piper said to her younger son.

Chris sighed. "All right. You are now…free from my bind. Don't…make me do it again…next time."

There was a light blue flickered that traced over Melinda before disappearing completely. She, however, did not move when the spell effect wore off. Chris almost wanted to smile smugly, but he didn't see anything good about the fact that his sister had been frozen. Whatever was inside of her must have been pretty damn bad.

"You were right…" Piper stepped toward her daughter, kneeling down carefully to look at her. "I should have noticed the look in her eyes, too. This isn't Mel. Something's…off."

"Hey," Wyatt said suddenly, "is she wearing another necklace?"

"Huh?" Piper looked at her son, then back to her daughter. "Oh…you're right. I've never seen her wear that one before. Why didn't I notice this?"

"It's gotta be it, don't you think?" Chris asked then. "Dad?"

"It's not like this hasn't happened before," Leo commented. "And I'm not surprised if some demon didn't think that it was going to work again."

There was a quiet clinking noise as Piper tugged the necklace off of her daughter's neck. It was very subtle—a simple brass chain with a pendant made of a small piece of shaped black tourmaline. It glowed a vibrant shade of red once off of her daughter, which made Piper say, "Egh."

She moved to stand with a quiet grunt and headed over toward the small café table by the door, where she set the necklace down. She turned around and looked at Melinda.

"I didn't expect it—nor want it—to happen to any our kids…do you think she'll be fine now?"

Leo nodded, but neither Chris nor Wyatt said a word.

With a wave of her hand Piper unfroze Melinda, who sort of dipped forward, as if she had just been pushed into the chair suddenly. She brought a hand up to her face and brushed it over it slowly with a quiet, but long, groan. When she looked back up again she looked over at Wyatt, then to Chris, and then finally to Piper and Leo.

"What happened?" she asked. She sounded as confused as she looked.

Piper stepped towards her then and helped Melinda up and out of the chair. "Oh, nothing much…we were gonna ask you that question, actually…but I think it can wait until the morning. Along with some other questions I have about what happened here tonight. All three of you look a little tired. And Wyatt? Will you heal Chris?"

Chris, who had had his body turned at just enough of an angle for Wyatt not to see his wound, moved to face his brother when his mother said that.

Wyatt made a slight face. "…Dude, what happened to you?"

"We'll talk about it in the morning," Piper said firmly. "Heal now, questions later."

Though the curiosity was clearly visible on Wyatt's face, he did just as his mother asked, and when the wound was fully healed, Chris stepped back without so much as a thank you. He was mad at Mel somewhat, was still mad at Wyatt, and for some reason, he was frustrated with his parents, too. He didn't want to talk to any of them, especially not right now.

Maybe in the morning it would be easier.