AN: Hey there! Hope y'all have fun. More to come very soon!

Three Fires Leapt from a Single Flame

Is a nightmare still a nightmare if you wake up and life stinks just as much as it did in the dream? That's what Chris wondered as he woke to find a darkly clad figure standing over his sleeping child. In truth, life wasn't nearly as awful as it was in his dream; his son wasn't a wreck out in the hallway, killing himself trying to figure out why he felt like he'd murdered the mother he'd never even met. But for a father to see an assassin standing inches away from his son... It's just not pretty.

"HEY! Get the hell away from my son!"

Chris dove over Riley, grabbed the (Darklighter?) by his shoulders, and slammed him down onto his back. Chris pressed the assassin's shoulders hard against the floor. Now wide awake; he took a closer look at his enemy. The boy couldn't have been more than 19 or 20 years old. "Kinda young for a Darklighter aren't you?"

Two eagle-sharp, blue-green eyes scowled up at him. "None of your damn business," he said. "A little young to play 'Daddy' aren't you?"

Chris returned his scowl. "None of your damn business!"

"Yeah, I wish!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't have to answer that!"

"Fine, smartass. Then what the Hell do you want with my son?"

"Don't have to answer that either!" He grabbed Chris's hips and catapulted him toward the wall "What the…?" but Chris tucked his head, flipped forward, and met the wall with his feet. He dropped safely to the ground. "Since when are darklighters telekinetic?"

"Who says I'm a Darklighter?" The boy sprang to his feet. "Then again…" He conjured a black crossbow. "Who says I'm not?"

Chris squinted his eyes; the crossbow crumbled to splinters. "Ooh, bummer," he said. "Well, that didn't work. What else ya got?"

"I'm so glad you asked."

"Just be gentle," said Chris. "I bruise easy."

And while all this was happening…

"Rider." Riley shook his brother back and forth on the bed. "Rider." He shook him harder. "Rider, wake up.'

Rider smacked his lips and rolled over. "Sure thing, Dad, just five more minutes, 'kay?"

Riley squinted his eyes toward the bedside lamp, switching it on. He grabbed his pillow, planning to pelt his brother in the face. "How is it that you've lived this long?" But instead, Riley felt himself being thrown up and over his brother, to come crashing down on the other side of the room.

Then, a black-haired, bearded demon stepped from the shadows and around to where Rider was resting. He took his silver bladed knife, held it abover Rider's throat, and with both hand thrust it downward. Rider rolled to the side; the blade stabbed the mattress instead. "Psych!" Rider chanted.

From the demon's perspective, the rest of the his short life consisted of two bare heels – size 10 and ½ shoe, by the looks of things – pounding him in the face, followed by the slam of the solid floor as he collapsed onto his back. The next thing he knew, Rider was sitting on his chest, holding the demon's own blade inches above his forehead. "Night night!" he heard the boy say, followed by a sharp pain between the eyes. The demon was gone.

Rider looked up to see Riley, also down on one knee. Apparently he'd had his own demons to deal with. He held two athames; one in each hand. Rider shook his head. "Always got to one-up me, don't cha?"

"The whole time?" said Riley. "You knew he was there the whole time?"

Rider sighed. "Ya know, your lack of faith in me really hurts sometimes."

"Ya know, your showin' off sends my blood pressure into dangerous territory sometimes."

"See, that's where the faith things comes in, because…"

"Look, Ri," said Riley, "we're gonna have to take the 12-steps later." He pointed towards their father's duel. "Look."

Rider's eyes flashed. "Is that who I think it is?"

Riley studied the reflection of the lamp's light from a metal band on the intruder's middle finger. "Either that, or our evil counterparts finally hopped the morality border."

"So… Question for ya," said Rider. "Why's he trying to kill Dad?"

"Still working on that part," said Riley. "But we better stop 'em before there's no one left to stop."

Rider hopped up to standing. "Which one you want?"

Riley stood as well. "How 'bout I take Dad?"

"Cool by me," said Rider, "but if you don't make it, can I have your computer?"

"Rider, it's Dad."

"Yeah, you're right," said Rider. "So, can I have it?"

Chris could more than hold his own, but the evil little twerp he was fighting had lasted far longer than he should have. Chris could use his powers as blunt force against him – as could he against Chris – but one of the main perks of advanced telekinesis, the ability to vanquish at the molecular level, had no effect at all. This was a new experience for Chris; he'd never been forced into hand-to-hand combat with a Darklighter before, unless of course he needed to blow off some steam.

The young man-Darklighter-whatever he was... his fighting style was oddly familiar, but Chris couldn't quite place it. He'd even taken several hits from the little hot-head: a palm to the chest, and a heel across his face, but Chris was quick to find the flaws in his opponent's technique.

Chris blocked two punches: one to the jaw, one to the stomach. Then a swinging kick to the chest; Chris caught his rival's leg and backhanded him across the face, but he held onto the boy's leg to keep him from falling. Chris tugged him closer, stomped on his standing foot, and punched him in the nose, then in the jaw, then across the cheek: once, then again, and again, and again. He saw nothing but the boy's bruised cheeks, bloody nose, swollen bloody lips, and eyes that fluttered in an out of consciousness. Chris heard nothing but bone pounding bone, until… (Dad, stop… Dad, stop… Dad, stop…)

"Dad, stop!" Riley pulled Chris back – the beaten boy fell into Rider's waiting arms – Riley pressed his father back towards the wall. Chris shoved him aside. "What the hell are you doing?" But he soon felt his back hit the wall again, with Riley standing in front of him. His eyes were pleading. "Dad, please. You don't know what you're doing." Chris orbed from against the wall to beside Riley, only to see Rider healing the boy Chris had been using as a punching bag.

There was something strangely beautiful about the broken, concerned expression on Rider's face as focussed on the young man's cuts and bruises. Chris studied the wounded boy, thinking how even a Darklighter could look like an angel when he's sleeping. (Why would I even care?) A few seconds more and Rider had healed him, head to toe. The young man opened his eyes and looked up at his healer, particularly at the white strand of hair among a head full of dark brown. "Nice stripe, Skunk Man," he said, as Rider helped him up.

Chris erupted out of his trance. "Excuse me, what the hell just happened here?"

But before anyone could answer, the sound of many determined footsteps came from the other side of the door. Chris watched the stranger glamour from his current image into a vision of Rider. Not as Rider was, but what Rider would be were he seduced by evil. The boy seized Rider around the chest, reached behind his back, and brought a blade to Rider's throat. Rider looked to the side. "River, what the hell are you doing?"

"Quiet!" River whispered loudly.

Chris looked from Rider to River to Riley and back to Rider again. Nothing made sense. It was all one big labyrinth of questions and no time to answer them.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and in walked a tall, pale, something or other. He was dressed in the average, everyday, black, evil attire. There was a hard look in his eyes. He was the only one to enter the room; his followers stayed in the hall. He looked to River, then at the blade at Rider's throat. His mouth slanted in a grim smile. He turned his head towards the hall. "Tell him we have the third."

As the man's followers were departing – be it orbing, shimmering, blinking, or what-not – he looked back at River and nodded. Then he orbed away as well.

Before River himself departed, he looked warily at Riley. "Hurry," he said, and his black orbs carried both Rider and himself out of the room.

Chris said under his breath, "Oh don't you worry," and orbed out to follow them.

Riley reached for him – "No, wait!" – just not soon enough.

Chris's orbs were blasted back into the room, leaving him a crumpled man on the floor.

"Dad?" Riley kneeled beside him. "Dad, are you alright? Talk to me."

Chris grabbed his head and groaned. Then, after massaging his forehead for awhile, he rolled onto his side and pressed himself up to sitting. "No, Riley, I don't think I will," he said. "How 'bout you talk to me."

Riley froze.

"Oh, come on now," said Chris, somewhere between anger and dilerium. "Surely there's something you'd like to tell me before I smack you so hard that my unborn grandkids can feel it."

Riley swallowed a small gulp of dry air..

"Ya know what? I have a question." Chris scowled with blue-green fury at his son. "Who the HELL was that kid and WHY does he have MY EYES?"

NOTES: Thanks everybody! Hope you enjoyed it. For the part of River, I've "cast" Chace Crawford. If you click the link that ordinarily would take you to my home page, you can find a picture of him. It says "River" in blue Charmed-esque writing. I've also put up two pictures of Jared. One of them has him in his Magic School sweatshirt.

Hope to see y'all next chapter!

Sincerely,
Alwyn