Title: With Arms Wide Open

Premise: AU. The tale of Phoebe's son.

She should have been happy, enthralled and ecstatic. Her baby was healthy and from the physical aspect appeared to be a perfectly normal week-old infant. She wasn't. Phoebe Halliwell sat curled in ball with her knees tucked under her chin on her bed consumed with worry.

"Pheebs?" a soft voice called.

Piper stuck her head inside the doorway before continuing into the bedroom. Her stomach protruded proudly with the child that was the epitome of all good. Her daughter was half-angel, an already evident healer. A beacon for goodness, Phoebe's son, for all intention purposes was the opposite. Half-demon and the only power he'd displayed was the ability to throw fire.

Piper crept over to the basinet and smiled widely down at the infant slumbering in it. She scoped her arm underneath his small body making sure to support his little neck as she tentatively lifted him from his basinet. She balanced him between her breasts and protruding stomach. Once pressed into her body he shifted himself snuggling closer to her.

"He is adorable," she murmured softly in admiration.

Phoebe sighed propping herself up on her elbows.

"Have you thought of a name for the little guy?" Piper questioned walking towards the bed plopping onto the end.

During her pregnancy names kept popping up in her mind. None had seemed to fit him exactly. What could a baby who could incinerate someone be called?

"I refuse to let my nephew be nameless," Piper continued and then in a much softer voice she looked back to the baby, "right? You deserve a name? Huh? Right?" she cooed and she shifted the baby so he was now facing Phoebe, "tell mommy, that you need a name."

Phoebe pushed herself up into a sitting position a bit too quickly as the stitches in her abdomen protested loudly. Her hands instantly went to her stomach.

"Are you in pain?" Piper questioned, "do you want some-

"I'm fine." Phoebe interjected.

Piper stood at this and walked to the basinet placing the baby back into it and placing a tender lingering kiss to this forehead. She ruffled his little tuff of dark hair before turning back to Phoebe.

"I know that you're scared," Piper began softly, "I'm scared too," her hands rested at the tip of her stomach, "the unknown."

"Your daughter is half-angel for Christ sake Piper! She heals you and protects you, she's everything that is good and pure," Phoebe said, "he's-he's…," she began to cry, "He's not."

Piper wrapped her arms tightly around her sister, holding her tightly as she began to cry.

"Phoebe, he's your son, and there is no doubt in my mind that you can raise him to be everything that is good and pure," Piper said.

Unchanged Future, 2026

"I knew I'd find you here." Wyatt Halliwell muttered.

The graveyard, like most of San Francisco laid in ruins. Only half intact tomb stones were left as a piece of the past. In front of this particular half-tombstone was a young man with sharp features; his hair was black, his eyes icy blue, a narrow nose and a set jaw. He was dressed in a tattered overcoat, a pair of ripped jeans and an old ratty LA Dodger's hat. His shoulders tensed upon hearing the voice but it didn't stop him from laying dandelions onto the grave.

Wyatt took a step forward towards the man. With an almost sad but not sad smile he asked, "how many years has it been?"

The man licked his lips and stood. Their height was nearly dead even, "don't act like you care." He said curtly.

"Oh but Samuel I do."

Samuel raised his thin eyebrow, "why do I not believe you?" Samuel glanced behind Wyatt searching for the band of guard demons that usually followed in his trail. To his surprise there was nobody behind him, "where are your guards?"

Wyatt had the grace to look offended clasping one of his hands over his heart, "what? I cannot speak to my own cousin without being in the presence of guards?"

"Always the dramatic," said Sam with a slight dry chuckle to his tone, "now what do you really want me to do?"

"I want you to go to the past and retrieve my wayward brother."

"Go do it yourself." Sam replied bluntly and began to walk forward but Wyatt clasped his shoulder tightly preventing him from moving forward.

"What if I could offer you a proposition?" Wyatt suggested in a sadistic tone, "bring back my wayward brother and I'll bring back Aimee."

Unchanged Future, 2003

Time-travel was never something simple. It required a calm simple mind to concentrate and the exact wording. One simple misuse of a wood could send the person to God only knows where or change the world as we know it.

"Job well done, Wy, job well done." Sam muttered as he stared around at the intact San Francisco city. Whether or not he'd sent him to the correct time he'd gotten the right time period. Before his total destruction of the city.

People moved freely now. They had no idea how the world would truly turn and burn. Magic would be exposed. Millions upon millions of innocent people would die. And the people rooming around San Francisco in this very moment had no idea. They were starring at his tattered clothing with disgust and curiosity.

A discarded newspaper told him the date was late November of 2003. His counterpart would be nearly ten months old, just shy of eleven months. Wyatt would be nearly seven or eight months old. And Chris, well, he would be born exactly a year from now.

Wyatt had reassured him that he'd have all of his powers. Reaching a hand out of his pocket and attempting to be as discreet as possible he flicked his wrists lighting the newspaper on the ground into flames. Closing his wrist into a tight fist in a swift motion stopped the flames before they spread any further than the newspaper. It had taken him nearly a decade to control that particular power. It was one of the things he envied Wyatt for. Since birth he seemed to have complete control of all of his powers. There were no accidently set on fire curtains, or burnt mothers, just complete and utter control, another perk of being the prophesized Twice Blessed Child. The Twice Blessed Child, who if nurtured properly, would become a savior of the world. It was a sure sign that somewhere along the line he wasn't "nurtured" correctly. Sam wasn't quite sure when or how, he, Wyatt and Chris had all been raised by three wonderful people who showed them boundless amounts of love and tried their best to keep them happy, healthy and alive. Wasn't that nurture enough? Of course, the three women had died when they were all teens, but he and Chris didn't turn out evil. It made him question where in life the savoir had turned into the destroyer. The being the destroyer part had always been placed on Sam himself by the Elders, who were convinced he and Wyatt were created for only one purpose to balance out the system. The Savoir and The Destroyer. It was ironic. Neither had turned out the way the Elders thought it would. Wyatt was the Destroyer and well Sam was self-proclaimed neutral, unable to side with either of his cousins.

P3 stood just as he remembered it. Often he, Wyatt and Chris would find themselves orbing/ fading to P3 when there was a demon attacking or when their Aunt Piper was watching them.

It was just one of those days that Piper wished more than anything that she wasn't her own boss and could call in sick, just as her manager did today. Phoebe was at work early doing a conference of sorts and Paige was at another one of her temp jobs, leaving her with Wyatt and Patrick. Patrick was nearly one and wasn't as quite as immobile as he used to be. The club wasn't baby-proof like the Manor was, so she truly couldn't do the work she'd set aside to do but rather had to keep her eye on her rooming nephew.

"You think this is funny don't you?" she questioned as the baby began to waddle towards the back room.

The baby let out a gleeful shout as he pushed forward into the backroom.

"Patrick no!" she yelled after him.

It was too late. The baby had already slipped into the room. A disheveled Chris walked out moments later, the squirming Patrick in his arms, the baby's limps were thrashing wildly. Piper felt herself involuntarily gasp at the sight of her Whitelighter. His whole face was bruised and on the right side of his face was three deep gashes from the tip of his hair line to his lips. He looked like an extra for a Horror Movie with all of the dried blood still on his face.

"Chris….oh god what happened to you?"

Chris didn't answer as he placed the toddler on the ground. Piper picked up Patrick and quickly placed him into the playpen beside Wyatt. The door to the backroom was locked. Piper fiddled with the knob of the door.

"If you do not come out here, Chris I will blow up this door," Piper threatened.

It had only been a few days since his ill-fated return journey to the future and the death of his fiancée. Despite his best attempts to hid his hurt and his fear, they'd all failed. She knew what a heartbroken person looked like. She'd seen her own reflection in the mirror multiple times. Not waiting for an answer she raised her arms at the ready when the handle of the knob turned slightly and Chris stuck his head in the small creak.

"You're hurt," Piper said in the softest tone she could muster, "let me call for Leo….,"

The sound of Wyatt's protective shield made her whirl around. Standing at the top of the stairs was a young man dressed in tattered beige overcoat, ripped and bloodied jeans and a holey Dodger's Hat.

"We're closed." She said firmly to him.

"Sam?!" Chris muttered in complete and utter shock.

Piper whirled around starring between the pair. The man on the stairs staggered forward his hands tucked into the pockets of the overcoat. He seemed to be in a awe as he stared around the room. His eyes focusing in on the babies in the playpen. He didn't seem to be at all alarmed by Wyatt's protective shield which made her raise her hands. The last person from the future hadn't ended well.

"What do you want?"

The man looked to her. His eyes were a startling icy blue in color. They seemed to be familiar to her she just couldn't tell from where.

"I'd like to speak to my cousin." He said.

Piper starred at Chris and then at the man. Chris didn't look too happy. His nostrils flared multiple times. Her hands instantly raised at the ready at any sign that this man would harm either of them. Rather the man, Sam, only walked closer.

"Chris, with all due respect, you look like hell." Sam retorted.

A/N: Disclaimer: I don't own anything. In the 4th season when Phoebe was pregnant and lost the baby, I thought was a tad bit odd. I never completely understood the idea of the baby being the Seer's and found that unsettling, or that fact that the baby would shoot Paige out of the window. So I decided why not let the boy live? I gave him a name, and a story. His full name just by the way is Patrick Samuel Halliwell.