Wow, thanks for all the reviews! A couple of people were wondering if there are more chapters. This is the second and final chapter of the story. Thanks for all the support, and enjoy! Song lyrics are bold and italicized.

Liz Black: Oh, wow, how did I miss that? I proofread it but didn't catch that mix up. Yeah . . . that is kind of wrong sounding . . . I'll probably go back and change it later, but I think everyone knew what I meant. Thanks for telling me about the mistake.


Piper's head hurt. She was still reeling from this recent revelation. Chris, the neurotic, annoying, mysterious whitelighter from the future, was her son, a child that hasn't even been conceived yet! She wrinkled her nose as she thought about that fact. Talk about performance anxiety, Piper thought.

Speaking of performance anxiety . . . Piper glanced at Leo, wondering if he'd caught Chris's slip of the tongue. He was probably still stuck on the fact that Wyatt is evil.

Oh god! Wyatt's evil! Chris came back to save his big brother! How could Wyatt possibly be anything but the greatest source of Good ever? The cute little boy that giggled when she tickled him and loved his ducky pajamas couldn't possibly be a monster.

She had to find out for sure. She needed to know if this is one of Chris's schemes. Chris, who might be her son. God, my life is messed up. All in a day's work for a Charmed One.

"Leo! Can you sense him?" Piper asked sharply.

"What? Who, Wyatt?" Leo asked, looking as if he'd just been snapped out of a nightmare.

So he was thinking about Wyatt. "No, Chris."

Looking confused as to why Piper was concerned about Chris when their son is going to become evil, Leo closed his eyes and searched for the emotionally unstable whitelighter. Unfortunately, he could only sense pain, pain that was muddled in with the rest of the city. "No, I think he's blocking me."

"Damn," Piper muttered, growling in frustration. "Orb me back home and try to find him, will you?"

"Why?" Leo asked. "It's obvious he doesn't want to talk to us. I say leave him alone."

Piper really wanted to strangle her ex-husband in that moment. Because your son could hurt himself! Piper wanted to scream. But she couldn't, because she knew that Leo would waste precious time in being shocked and ranting about Chris's lies while they needed to find Chris now.

"Just orb me home," Piper snapped. Leo sighed and lightly touched her elbow, engulfing them in warm orbs.

The matriarch moved away from Leo the instant her feet touched solid ground and found her sisters sipping coffee in the kitchen.

"Oh, hey Piper, how'd it –go?" Phoebe's voice faltered a little when she saw Hurricane Piper storm into the room, her expression determined.

"Where's the scrying crystal?" she demanded, not even bothering to acknowledge her sister's question.

"In the attic." Paige answered, eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "Piper, what's wrong?"

But Piper was already sprinting up the stairs. After exchanging worried looks, Phoebe noticed Leo standing timidly in the doorway. "What happened, Leo?"

Leo, who looked like he'd rather be anywhere but here, answered with a shaky voice, "Chris got angry and let some things slip."

"Ooh!" Phoebe exclaimed suddenly, her eyes widening in excitement, "He finally slipped up? Tell, tell! C'mon, let's hear it!"

Leo's expression couldn't have been graver. "He said that Wyatt is the 'evil overlord of the world' and that Wyatt's the one who murdered his fiancé."

"Oh." Phoebe's expression deflated. "You know, he could be lying, Leo."

Leo slumped down on a chair wearily. "I know. But that was the most honest reaction I've ever seen from him and . . ."

". . . when people are angry, they let things slip that they didn't mean to say?" Paige finished softly, her eyes gentle.

"Yeah." Leo looked at his sisters-in-laws with an apologetic smile, "Sorry, but I have to go and –just think." With that, he orbed out to on top of Golden Gate Bridge.

Meanwhile, upstairs in the attic, Piper's scrying crystal just landed. Piper's eyebrows knitted together, confused. Why had Chris chosen to go there?

My son's burden alone he cannot bear

Let me help and take me there

She half expected, half hoped it wouldn't work, because Chris wasn't her son. All the same, when warm white lights surrounded her, Piper wasn't surprised. She took in the beautiful, calm park and felt the light breeze blowing her hair back. She saw Chris's lone figure, sitting on a stone bench, his head leaned back against a marble statue in the shape of an angel. Piper smiled, finding the spot strangely appropriate for the half witch, half whitelighter. Chris looked deep in thought, lost in his memories.

And he was. Chris sensed Piper's presence the instant she materialized there, but chose to ignore her, instead filling his vision with images of Bianca.

Will you marry me?

Chris smiled as he recalled Bianca's astonished smile, the happiness dancing in her eyes.

Finally, he couldn't ignore Piper's on looking eyes anymore. He'd known all along that she'd come. Chris had been horrified when he'd realized he'd let slip that Wyatt was evil. Piper was scarily protective sometimes, and he knew she, Leo, or both, would come and confront him about it. This talk was simply unavoidable, and simply a part of a painful experience Chris did not want to think about right now.

"What are you doing here, Piper?"

Piper flinched at how cold and dead his voice sounded. Judging from the way Chris called her "Piper," he hadn't yet realized that particular slip up.

"I was worried."

"Yeah? Well, you shouldn't be. I'm fine." He replied, his tone icy and unconcerned. "I thought I told you to leave me alone."

Piper smiled sadly and sat down next to her son, who, to her surprise, raised no objections to her sitting there. She had lost time to connect with her son, and she was determined to help him through this trauma, just as Leo and her sisters had guided her through losing Prue. Piper knew better than anyone that the pain will never go away, that she will always miss Prue, will always be wondering why, will always think of the way her dead eyes stared up at Piper at the most random times. She also knew that you have to move on, and use the death and memory of the lost loved one to become a stronger person.

Come on, take my hand

We're going for a walk, I know you can

You can wear anything, as long as it's not black

Please don't mourn forever, she's not coming back

"You're not wearing black," Piper observed, breaking the stony silence.

Chris looked up at her in surprise. That wasn't what Chris had expected to come out of Piper's mouth.

"Bianca hated black." He answered simply.

Piper raised an eyebrow. "She wore black leather."

"That's my point. When she was a freelance assassin, she never wore black leather, and almost never wore black when she was in regular clothes. She said life was too short to be gloomy all the time." Chris smiled sadly at the irony. "She was right. Anyway, when Wyatt enslaved the labors of her Coven and forced them to wear black leather 'uniforms,' that made Bianca hate the color more. She thought of it as a color of slavery and bondage."

The Charmed One was surprised that Chris was offering information so freely. That was a bad sign if Chris was suddenly gave up his "Future Consequences" attitude. It meant he didn't care anymore.

"Come on, let's take a walk," Piper suggested, getting up and offering Chris a hand.

He stared at her hand blankly. "Why?"

"Walks are good for clearing your head."

But I don't want to clear my head, Chris thought numbly. He never wanted to forget Bianca, to clear his head of her. That's what really scared him –the idea that he'll forget how she looked, how she smelled, how her lips felt against his.

Piper's gaze was so warm, gentle, and motherly that Chris was momentarily back in his future, when his mom was alive. Piper looked so much like Mom in that moment that he couldn't bear to turn her down. He accepted her hand and allowed himself to be pulled up, away from his and Bianca's spot.

They walked in silence for a little bit, both feeling at peace, surrounded by whistling wind and dancing trees, the only audible sound being the crunch of gravel beneath their feet.

And yes they'll ask you where you've been

And you'll have to tell them, again and again

"So . . . Wyatt's really evil? He really made you suffer?"

Chris closed his eyes as the image of Bianca, skewered by a stake stained with her blood, filled his vision. He remembered her ragged breaths and agony filled eyes as she begged him to finish what they started.

Chris had been surprised that Piper had waited this long to ask about Wyatt. She'd made it all about Chris at first, even when she had no reason to. It's not like she knew he was her future son.

"Yeah. The world's pretty messed up."

"Why?" Piper asked, sorrow in her voice, "How could we let this happen? Was I such a horrible mother that I caused my son to turn evil?"

"No!" Chris shouted. When he realized what he'd done, Chris blushed and tried to play it off. "Well, from what I've heard, you're a fantastic mom."

He had his face turned away from Piper as he said that, and didn't see the small smile on her face.

At least Chris turned out Good, although I'll have to teach him not to be manipulative and to always tell the truth, Piper thought cheerfully.

"So where am I in the future? I'd think the Power of Three, or at least his mother, could somehow subdue him."

Piper saw Chris stiffen, and a flash of agony crossed his face. He turned to face her, his eyes familiarly guarded. "I can't tell you that. Future consequences. Besides, I've said too much already."

"Well . . . maybe sharing some of the load will be good for you," Piper said, really meaning it.

Chris didn't say anything.

And you probably don't want to hear tomorrow's another day

But I promise you you'll see the sun again

And you're asking me why pain's the only way to happiness

And I promise you you'll see the sun again

And I promise you you'll see the sun again

Finally, Chris spoke. "Yeah, well, that'd be kind of selfish of me, wouldn't it? To burden you guys?"

"I think I can handle it." Piper said softly.

"No, you can't!" Chris snapped. "There –there are just things that you can't know!"

He stopped walking. "Listen, Piper, it's nice of you to try and act all concerned and everything, but no matter what you do, I won't be able to tell you everything you want to know. And you'll just get frustrated and hate me even more."

"I don't hate you, Chris." Piper reassured him quietly, her heart breaking. He looked so wounded; Piper didn't know why she'd never noticed the distant pain in his eyes before, pain that was surely there whenever they were cruel to him.

"Sure you don't." Chris muttered, almost to himself. He wrapped his arms around himself as a chilly breeze blew past their faces.

Piper was instantly concerned when she saw this action. "You're cold, Chris!" Piper remembered Chris orbing out without his jacket. He looked freezing in that thin t-shirt.

Chris cast her a wary glance. Seriously, since when did Piper start acting all motherly towards him? "I'm fine; no, really, Piper . . . I'm okay. Just leave, please."

"No, Chris, not until I know you won't hurt yourself anymore." Piper said sternly. She was determined to help her son.

Chris closed his eyes and tried to mentally push Piper away. Everything he did to distant himself from his family, and especially his mother, was crumbling. Mom was dead; seeing her alive and despising him hurt deeper than anything. He was her little sunshine, her baby. It was okay for a little at first, since Chris thought of Piper and Mom as two separate people. But now –Piper's attitude towards him has changed. As the day passed, the more time Chris spent with her, the more Piper and Mom became one. The clear, distinct lines he'd set in the beginning were starting to fade.

Dealing with Bianca's death was already killing him inside; Chris didn't need to revisit Piper's death as well. He groaned involuntarily as the memories began to shift to the surface along with memories of Bianca. He saw Mom's dull, dead eyes as clearly as he saw Piper's clear, bright eyes.

Do you remember telling me you'd found the sweetest thing of all

You said one day of this was worth dying for

So be thankful you knew her at all

But it's not more

Chris remembered when he first realized how bad the world had really become.

Since Chris was unable to talk to his relatives as spirits, he often visited his mom's grave and talked to her. He knew a tomb couldn't talk back, but he took comfort in the thought that his mom might be listening in Heaven.

He talked to her about everything –Wyatt, the ruin San Francisco had become, the despair of being alone, and later on, Bianca. Chris was glad to be able to say something happy on those visits, something hopeful. The Halliwell often felt crushed under the load of responsibility on his shoulders. Obviously, he preferred his mother to be alive, but since being in the past, Chris really missed being able to talk to his mom, even if it was a grave.

Ah, heck, maybe he just wanted to see his mom again, like that one time when she answered him.

"God, Mom, everything's falling apart. Twenty Resistance members died today . . . that's sixty deaths this week! The demons are growing stranger, and they're more organized than ever, thanks to Wyatt. He's found a way to make the demons magic-proof, so now the only way to kill them is through hand to hand combat. Bianca's trying to teach as many as she can . . . but the death toll just keeps on mounting up. Thank god for Bianca; I don't know how I'd manage without her. It's been so hard to keep it together ever since Darryl and D.J. died."

As he thought about their old family friends' deaths, his fists clenched in furious anger. "I hate this! I hate that everyone's gone, I hate having to fight my brother, and I hate the Elders and Dad for abandoning us and stranding their whitelighters on Earth to save their own sorry asses! What am I supposed to do?"

"You fight."

Chris's eyes widened in disbelief when he heard the familiar scolding voice. No, it can't be! He kneeled where he was, afraid to turn around, afraid to be disappointed.

"It's okay, honey." The soft voice reassured him warmly.

Slowly, Chris stood up and turned around. The sight before him was impossible. But that didn't stop him from running into his mother's arms like he did when he was a kid. Of course, he was shorter than her then.

"Shh, it's okay." Mom said, "The Elders decided you needed some guidance."

Chris's smile faded when she mentioned the Elders. "Well, it's about time. Are you sure we're talking about the Elders? For being high up on the Forces of Good hierarchy, they're pretty selfish."

Mom grinned mischievously. "Well, since there's nothing to do Up There, I pestered them until they broke and sent me here."


Grimacing, Chris felt a little sorry for the Elders. Just a little. He knew how his Mom was like in overprotective mode.

He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it when he couldn't find the right words.

"What is it, baby?" Mom asked, her soothing voice giving Chris strength.

"I . . . I missed you," Chris said softly.

Mom held him in a tight embrace again. "Oh, I missed you too. I hated sitting Up There, unable to do anything to help you or your brother."

"I hate him, Mom!" Chris burst out suddenly, all his anger and frustration building up in those words.

His mother merely waited until he calmed down. "Is that how you really feel about him? I don't think you hate Wyatt . . . I think you hate the things he did."

Chris didn't say anything. As always, his mother saw right through him. The Resistance's main goal was to kill Wyatt and save innocents. Chris usually agreed with them, but maybe, deep inside, all he really wanted to do was save his brother. Mom was right. He didn't want to hate Wyatt, he wanted to love the big brother that protected him, that held on to him during their mother's funeral, quietly rocking him until the tears stopped flowing.

"But hey, let's not talk about depressing things right now. I've been listening to our one-sided talks from before, and you've found a girl?" Piper suggested.

Chris smiled. "Yeah. Bianca." He hesitated before continuing. Whenever he came to "talk" to Mom, he never mentioned who exactly Bianca was, although he wondered if Mom remembered her mother from a while ago. "She's a witch too."

Mom looked intrigued, "Oh, really? Bianca . . . that name sounds familiar. What are her powers?"

"Umm . . . she creates energy balls, can suck out people's powers, kicks major butt in hand-to-hand combat, and . . . she can shimmer." Chris paused cautiously, waiting for Mom's judgment on his girlfriend.

Mom looked extremely suspicious, and smiled wryly. "Bianca wouldn't happen to have a red phoenix birthmark on her wrist, would she?"

"Actually, she does. You remember her?"

She nodded. "Yes, I remember Lynn dropping her off at our house. I also remember her teaching you and Wyatt how to throw knives."

Chris recoiled under his mom's scolding glare. "Athames, actually."

Mom snorted at Chris's sarcasm. "Well, other than that incident, I'd liked her well enough. And if she makes you happy and is not trying to kill you, I'm happy."

Needless to say, Chris decided to not tell his mother how he had met up with her again after all those years.

"How old is she again? I can't remember."

"She's four years older than me," Chris said. He was happy that Mom reacted pretty well to Bianca, considering the fact that she's an assassin with demonic powers.

Her eyebrows rose at this new bit of information. "Going for the older women, Chris?" she teased, "You got those genes from me, although your father was a few decades older than me. And dead."

Chris wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, I never figured out how you could just forget the fact that he's dead."

"Well, how did you forget that you're half dead?"

"Mom! That's low, that's really low." Chris complained, glaring at her. But he wasn't really mad. He always loved talking to his mom; before, that "half dead" comment was enough to boil his blood, but it was fine when his mom said it. "You know you're insulting Aunt Paige and Penelope too, you know?"

Mom grinned mischievously. "Oh, I know."

Chris cleared his throat. "Um, how are they, you know, the family . . . Up There?"

Mom's grin drooped on the edges a little, the lines of her mouth and eyes sad. "They're dealing; we're all dealing, as a family. It's hard, especially for the kids. They never got a chance to really live out their lives before losing it so young."

Nodding in understanding, Chris felt a ripple of magic in the air. He knew it was almost time for Mom to go. "Do you really have to leave so soon?"

She looked surprised that Chris could feel that their time was running out. Smiling sadly, she answered, "I do."

"Thanks, for being here," Chris said quietly, "I love you Mom."

"I love you too," Mom cupped Chris's face with her hands lovingly, eyes bright with unshed tears, "Don't ever give up, no matter how bad things may seem. And don't ever give up on your brother. Remember; deep inside, he's still Wyatt, and as long as Wyatt is still there, he can still be saved. I hope that helps." She kissed his forehead, leaving her lips against his skin, "You've grown up into a handsome man, but you'll always be my baby boy. Goodbye, Chris, and keep on fighting."

Mom stepped back and disappeared in a swirl of bright white lights.

A small, sad smile graced Chris's face for a split second, a smile that did not go unnoticed by Piper.

"What is it, Chris?" Piper asked with a gentleness that reminded Chris of his Mom. He scoffed at his own thought. Of course Piper reminded Chris of Mom. They were still one body, and one soul, even if Piper hasn't yet shared the fourteen years with Chris that he vividly remembers and cherishes.

Chris looked away from her, knowing that if he saw her warm brown eyes, he would crack. "Nothing," he muttered, shrugging the question off like he wished he could shrug off the responsibility.

"Chris? Chris, look at me," Piper gently turned Chris's chin around, so that their faces were closer together than Chris felt comfortable. You're not Mom, you're not Mom, you're not Mom . . . yet.

"It feels better when you talk about what's bothering you. Otherwise, if you bottle it up inside, it'll explode and your feelings will be exposed when you don't want it to, in a way you don't want it to."

He was silent. She sounded so much like her. Hell, her pep talks were the same. Chris could feel tears brimming on the corner of his eye, turning everything wet and blurry.

Piper saw the tears, and instinctively hugged him. "It's okay; just let it out."

This was just too much for Chris. He found himself easily slipping back into his past, back into his mother's arms.

"It's not fair. He took everything from me. Everything. I want him back so bad; I want everything to be the way it is now, in this timeline. It's not perfect, but then it's not ruled by a tyrant, is it? It was so hard to come back, having to brace myself to face the older, cold Wyatt and see a little, innocent toddler!" Chris choked when he tried to laugh. "But then, the funny thing is, I met Bianca again because of Wyatt. He sent her after me. Right now, I'm afraid I'll have to do this alone, and that I'll forget her, what she looks like. But what scares me about the future is the possibility that I'll never meet her. I miss her so much."

Piper listened to this, holding on to Chris tightly. This felt different, being all motherly to a man in his twenties. It felt different, but natural to her all the same.

And you probably don't want to hear tomorrow's another day

But I promise you you'll see the sun again

And you're asking me why pain's the only way to happiness

And I promise you you'll see the sun again

And I promise you you'll see the sun again

"It seems like we're just meant to suffer," Chris muttered, breaking away from Piper's embrace.

"What are you talking about?" Piper blinked, confused.

Chris sighed. "Every time anything is happy, something always goes wrong. Someone always dies trying to do Good. And every time something bad happens, everyone must suffer pain and misfortune to fight their way back to a good time, only to have that good time stripped away again. It's a cycle of the retarded balance the Elders love so much."

"Chris, you can't think that." Piper said, surprised at his bleak outlook on the world, "Sure, there are good and bad times, but the point is that we get through it, as a family. And yeah, the Elders are stupid, but that's just because they're pompous. I mean, having your head up in the clouds for so long is bound to mess you up somehow, right?

"You have to have faith in the Good in the world. Things may seem bad now, but you shouldn't sit on you ass and do nothing. If you don't meet Bianca because Wyatt doesn't turn evil, then go find her. Don't get yourself killed because of her death; I'm sure she wouldn't want you to. I only met her for a few minutes, tops, but she didn't seem like the person who would want you to turn into Psychopath Chris. I promise you; things will get better, as long as you keep on fighting."

His lips turned upwards into a small smile, accepting this. As always, she was right.

"Thanks, Piper." Chris said with a sincere smile. He genuinely meant it.

Piper grinned wryly. "Don't you mean 'Thanks, Mom'?"

Chris snapped his head up in alarm. Panic settled in as he processed those words. How did she know? Did he slip up somehow while he was crying like a baby in her arms? Oh, god, she knew. His entire plan was screwed now.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied coldly, his eyes guarded.

Piper flinched at the rejection, making him feel slightly bad. "I heard you call me 'Mom,' Chris."

"When?" Chris demanded coolly, pretending that it didn't matter to him.

"When you were yelling at me and Leo back at P3. Your exact words, if I remember right, were 'Leave me the heck alone Mom!'"

Knowing he was busted, Chris slumped down on the bench and held his head in his hands. "This wasn't supposed to happen," he muttered. "You weren't supposed to know." Green eyes finally looked up at her, not angry, but defeated.

"Why, Chris? Why couldn't we know who you were? We would have helped, and not been so mean to you."

Chris shrugged. "Would you have believed me if I told it to you that I was your future, not yet conceived son that day, when the Titan froze Paige?"

"Aunt Paige, mister," Piper teased.

Chris grinned, despite himself. "Don't push it, Mom."

Piper smiled brightly at him addressing her that way. "Now, let's go rejoin the rest of the family, shall we?" She waved her hand at him, telling him to orb them both out of the park.

"No!" Chris shouted. "They can't know, Mom, they can't! You have to help me keep my secret."

"No," Piper said sternly. "We're going to handle the bad times as a family, and that includes you."

Chris sighed and closed his eyes, feeling the inner turmoil. Their plan, Bianca and Chris's plan, was to never tell them who he really was, that it'd complicate things. But as he was pondering about this, Chris could have sworn he heard a distinct whispering in the wind, a familiar voice that made his heart long for the woman to whom the voice belonged to.

Listening and adapting are the keys to being an assassin, and to survival in a hard world.

He felt that same feeling of partnership, the guiding hand that helped his unstable fingers, clutching the Phoenix athame, vanquish demon after demon. Chris looked up at the bright, blue, beautiful, unpolluted sky of San Francisco, and smiled. Bianca wasn't gone, and he'd make sure that they met each other again, in the new future.

Chris lightly touched his future mother's shoulder, and they disappeared in warm blue orbs, ready to face the world together . . . as a family.

The End