Title: Haunted

Rating: T to be safe.

Summary: Chris Perry Halliwell is haunted by a lot of things: The death of his family, Wyatt's descent into evil, the destruction of the world, and the murder of his fiancé. What happens when one of those ghosts steps out of his nightmares and into his reality?

Setting: Season Six. Set directly after my story Nightmare. If you haven't read that, you might have some trouble following this.

Chapter One

"Baby, I've been here before,
I've seen this room and I've walked this floor,
You know, I used to live alone before I knew you.
And I've seen your flag on the marble arch,
and love is not a victory march,
it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah."

- Jeff Buckley, Hallelujah

"You have you save us, Chris. You're the only one who can save us."

Her voice whispered through the air, elusive and intangible as the wind. He tried to follow it, but it scattered in all different directions, evading him. She repeated it over and over, like a mantra. "You have to save us. You're the only one who can save us."

"How?" he howled finally, falling to his knees in the darkness.

And then light ripped through the empty gloom. Not just light—shapes and objects blinked into existence all around him, filling the previously empty space. He was in the attic, he realized, confusion and vertigo making his head spin.

"Whatever you're going to do, do it fast! I can't hold him for long!"

It was her voice again, and he whirled around in time to see her fly across the room. She landed on the floor, a messy pile of black leather and tangled limbs. He ran to her, his face white with terror. The splintered wood prevented him from moving too close.

She opened her mouth, and he knew what she'd ask. He was prepared for it, but the second in which he stared at her rapidly blanching face seemed to last forever.

Then, instead of what she was supposed to say, what he knew she had said, she whispered, "Save us, Chris. You're the only one who can save us."

"How?" he asked again, voice shaking.

"You have to save us…" she repeated, but it was less than a whisper now. Her eyes drifted shut and her entire body stilled. The unnatural stillness struck him more than anything else, and the agony welled up in his throat.

"Bianca!" He jerked upright and nearly tumbled off of the narrow old couch. For a moment his dream clung to him, making him think he was still surrounded by blood and chaos and destruction.

Then he gradually drifted back into the real world, and his body settled, though none of the heavy despair left him. She was still dead, and he still hadn't found a way to save her.

"Chris?"

He jumped violently and looked around, surprised that he hadn't recognized her presence before. Dreams of Bianca always messed with his head.

"Phoebe," he mumbled hoarsely, rubbing a hand over his eyes. He cleared his throat and asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Do you always have dreams like that?" she asked instead. He wondered if she was avoiding his question, or if she was just preoccupied by her own curiosity.

"No," he said honestly, because what was the point of being dishonest with her, anymore? "Not always about… her. Usually just about things that happen in the future."

"When you were asleep, you kept saying…." She drifted off, frowning.

"What?" he asked, wary now. He knew he'd yelled for Bianca as he's woken up, but what else had he mumbled in his sleep?

"Something about 'saving us.' You said it over and over again."

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose, still trying to push back the remnants of the nightmare. "It's what she used to tell me, that I was the only one who could do this. I was the only one who could save the world."

Phoebe's look shifted from concerned to distinctly indignant. "So she's the one who made you think you had to do this all on your own? I bet she's also the one who told you not to tell us, huh?"

He didn't answer, but his steely silence was enough. Her lips pursed.

"Don't bother," he said curtly when she opened her mouth—to let loose some insults about Bianca, he was sure. He changed the subject again. "Why'd you come here?"

Hesitation weaved through her eyes at the question. "Well, I…"

"Spit it out, Phoebe."

"I think you should tell them. Leo and Piper, I mean." He immediately scowled, and she added, "Your parents. They deserve to know, Chris. And I don't like keeping something like this from them."

"Too bad," he answered, immediately defensive. He stood, and she scrambled to make room for him in the tiny space. "That was the deal. Don't think that you get to tell everyone else just because you know. Keeping the secret is still important."

"Really? 'Cause from where I'm sitting, the only things secrets have gotten you are mistrust and hell of a lot of animosity. Why are you so against this?"

"Because this is the way it has to be!" he retorted, temper rapidly reaching a boiling point. "I messed up with you, Phoebe, and I admit that. I wish to hell I hadn't. But they can't know; they're not supposed to know. The future would be at risk if they found out."

"You know what I think? I think that's a pretty convenient excuse for you," Phoebe replied. She crossed her arms over her chest and slung her hip out to the side, a stance that would have made a lesser Witchlighter cower. "Whenever you don't want to deal with something, you just say you can't talk about it—that it could damage the future. But I think that's a load of bull. I think seeing your family alive again is hurting you a lot more than you're willing to admit."

"And I'm the one not dealing with things?" he asked, hoping the incredulity was thick enough to hide that her words described him exactly. "You're talking about the death of you and your sisters like it's nothing. Obviously you're not handling this, either."

"It's in the future," Phoebe retorted, but she sounded just a hint uncertain now. "And I'm going to do everything in my power to change it."

"Well, that makes two of us."

"You have to tell them, Chris."

"Look, I'll make you a deal. When we get everything fixed up and I go back to the changed future, you can tell them everything."

She snorted. "That's another escape and you know it."

"Take it or leave it. You're not going to get a better offer."

"And if I tell them anyway?"

The words startled him, and the fear stretched tight across his face before he could control it. Then he swallowed and said, as menacingly as possible, "I'll stop you."

"How?"

Again he pulled up short. He wouldn't do anything to her, but he couldn't let her tell them either. In that moment, he realized how truly exposed he was. There was absolutely no way to stop her if she decided to go through with it. He was powerless.

"Stop it!" Phoebe said abruptly, throwing her hands in the air and looking away from him.

"What?" he asked, bewildered.

"Stop… looking at me like that," She said finally, pressing the edges of her palms over her eyes for a few moments. When she looked up again, her eyes were serious and sad. "I'm not bad for wanting you to do this, Chris. I'm not trying to hurt you."

"I get that," he mumbled, feeling intensely uncomfortable with this conversation. How was he supposed to keep her separate from the aunt he'd lost when she kept treating him like a nephew?

"She's my sister, Chris. And if you told her—"

"You know she'd just feel guilty about everything." And obligated. And he wanted neither of those things.

"She'd love you."

He recoiled from those words. Secrets might not have gotten him much in the way of trust, but they did protect most of the things he didn't want anyone to see. He missed that advantage now. "I don't want her to. Things are hard enough as it is."

Phoebe didn't say anything for a while, but Chris could see her frown returning. He tensed marginally again, preparing for another onslaught.

"I think you should tell them," she said predictably, but before he could argue she added, "But I won't do it for you. One, because I think it's something you need to face for yourself, and two…." She drifted off, but he figured he knew what the second point would have been.

"Thank you," he said, momentarily allowing his relief to shine through.

"I'm not happy about this," she warned.

"It'll be worth it," he promised.

She stared at him, still solemn, and he wasn't sure what she was looking for. He wondered if he'd have to endure these kinds of stares all the time now that she knew. At least it was better than hostility or disgust.

"Chris? Chris, are you here?"

His eyes widened at the muffled, unexpected voice, but it probably shouldn't have been that surprising. It was still Piper's club, even if she hadn't had much time to work in it lately.

"Stay here," he commanded to Phoebe, and then orbed out into the main room.

"Chris!" Piper immediately chastised, frowning at him. "What if someone had seen you?"

"Sorry," he said carelessly. "Did you want something?"

"Yeah," she said, sounding distracted as she glanced around the room. "Do you think you could—Phoebe?"

Chris didn't have to turn around to realize that Phoebe had attempted to duck out of his storage-room-turned-bedroom. He cringed, reminding himself to school her in the art of secrecy later.

"Hey, Piper!" Phoebe said, voice slightly too loud. She hurried over to them, a smile plastered on her face.

"What are you doing here?" Piper asked, looking puzzled.

"I was just helping Chris…clean! I was helping him clean," Phoebe replied, and Chris knew damn well that he hadn't gotten his knack for lying from her. "His room is so dirty all the time… clothes everywhere…."

"Thank you, Phoebe," Chris said, sending her an incredulous glare. He'd really picked the wrong sister to spill his guts to, that was for sure. He shook his head and returned his attention to Piper. "What did you want to ask?"

Piper looked slightly taken aback by the strangeness of the situation, but she snapped back into focus after a few seconds. "I wanted to know if you'd watch Wyatt for me. Paige is with him now, but she has a date with Richard and I really need to be here. I tried calling Leo, but I think he's in an Elder meeting over whatever he does Up There."

"Actually, I have plans," Chris replied immediately. "I was going to check back in with the Underworld—"

"No, Chris you should definitely do it!" Phoebe interrupted, smiling brightly at Piper and then giving him a pointed look that a blind person couldn't miss. "You've been spending too much time down in the Underworld, anyway. You should take a break."

"But I—"

"No buts!" Phoebe interrupted, jabbing his arm now. He stared down at her, utterly bemused. Didn't she realize that he wasn't a child, even if he was her nephew?

"Please, Chris?" Piper asked, voice hopeful and sincere. "It would really help. I have a million things to do here, and I've been letting people cover for me for weeks now. I can't keep doing it."

"I don't—" he broke off, looking from Piper's earnest face to Phoebe's calculating one. He was outnumbered, overpowered, and he knew it. "Okay," he said finally, a faint note of helplessness in his voice.

"Good, have fun!" Phoebe said, overly enthusiastic. His eyes narrowed. "You two can bond," she added, confirming his suspicions.

"What are you going to do?" he asked pointedly, subtly glaring at her.

"I have to work," Phoebe said, sounding slightly more pragmatic. "Haven't turned in a decent article all week."

"Are you going into the office for that?" Piper asked, breaking back into their conversation. They both looked sideways at her.

"No," Phoebe said. "But I'm thinking I need to stay out of the manor for awhile—no offense, but Wyatt's kind of hitting that age and I really, really need some peace and quiet—"

"No, I just mean, you can work here if you want," Piper offered, smiling blandly and openly. Chris was instantly suspicious. "I'll be around all day, but it won't get busy for awhile."

"Okay," Phoebe said blithely, apparently oblivious to the purpose under Piper's smile.

Chris quickly tried to warn her. "Phoebe, that's probably not such a—"

"Paige is going to be late for her date if you don't hurry up," Piper said, glancing at him. There was a definite glint in her eyes, even if her words were friendly.

"Right," he said. He shot Phoebe one last look, which she caught and held for just a second. Then she turned back to Piper and Chris orbed away. He hoped their shared glance meant she wasn't going to spill all of his secrets at the very first opportunity.

"So, did he show you his secret handshake?"

Phoebe looked up from her pad of paper, puzzled. "What?"

"I was just wondering if he gave you some sort of initiation after he told you what he's been hiding. Is there a handshake? Or a codeword, maybe?"

Phoebe felt her face freeze, but she worked hard to keep her expression unaffected. "I'm really not sure what you're talking about."

"Phoebe, please. You were never very good at lying," Piper's hands were on her hips now, a major sign of danger. "I really can't believe this. I can't believe you're going to side with him instead of telling us whatever he knows!"

"You obviously trust him," Phoebe pointed out, sidestepping the real issue. It wouldn't work for long, of course, but she hoped it would suffice until she came up with something else. "You wouldn't have left Wyatt with him if you didn't."

"Yeah, I trust him," Piper waved off impatiently, hands moving from her hips to flutter in the air. An even worse sign, when it came to Piper. It usually meant that she was itching to blow up something. "But that doesn't mean I think he's told us everything, so spill. Right now."

"I don't—I mean—I have no idea what you're—" She finally dropped the pretense when Piper's determined expression didn't change. "Was it that obvious?"

"Are you kidding?" Piper asked dryly. "Since when do you help anyone clean?"

"Oh, stop," Phoebe grumbled, throwing her pen Piper's way. Piper froze it easily and swept it aside. She continued staring at Phoebe, her expression hard and unrelenting. "Fine, maybe he's told me a few things," Phoebe said finally, swayed by the intense scrutiny.

"What things?"

Phoebe hesitated. "I'm not supposed to—"

"Don't you dare say anything to me about future consequences! Don't even try."

Phoebe slumped in defeat, closing her eyes briefly. She'd had no idea that her loyalty to Chris would be tested so quickly. How was she going to get out of this unscathed, without betraying either Piper or Chris?

"He told me things about…you," Phoebe said, improvising.

Piper didn't answer, and Phoebe glanced at her. She was startled to see that her sister's expression had shifted from anger to comprehension. "Did he tell you that I die in the future?" Piper asked quietly, and Phoebe gripped the counter of the bar to hold herself upright.

"How did you know?" She gasped before she could think about the words; then she felt guilty. Clamping her lips shut, she promised herself that she wouldn't reveal anymore.

Piper sighed, a weary sound, and sat down on the stool next to Phoebe. "I've been thinking about it since that demon attacked me. Or maybe before that, really. I guess I always wondered…."

"Why?" Phoebe asked, puzzled. Her first thought certainly hadn't been that the Power of Three didn't exist in the future. Heck, she knew it was true, and she still had a hard time believing it.

"Because Chris came back to save Wyatt," Piper said bluntly. "If I'd been alive, I wouldn't have put the fate of my son into a stranger's hands. I would have tried to save him myself."

Phoebe had never thought of it that way. Not once had she ever wondered why it had been Chris to come back instead of one of the sisters. Although now that she knew the truth, she had to admit that Chris was a much likelier candidate than any of them could have guessed.

"Good point," Phoebe admitted finally.

"So that is what he told you?" Piper asked, eyebrows raised expectantly. One way or another, she was determined to get an answer.

And, unknowingly, she had offered Phoebe the perfect out—as long as Phoebe could keep a straight face.

"Yeah," she said, and then cleared her throat when her voice sounded a little scratchy. She felt a pang of guilt, but she reminded herself that she wasn't really lying. She was just… omitting certain things. "Crusk got to you a few years into the future—we were right."

"Well, now I know," Piper said, and she almost sounded casual. But her face was pale.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry," Phoebe said, immediately feeling guilty. She took one of Piper's hands and was distressed to find it shaking. "I thought you were prepared for this."

"I was—I mean, I thought about it. But actually knowing…." She breathed a shaky sigh, her eyes closing for a few seconds. Then they opened again. "Do I live long?"

Phoebe needed to handle this question delicately. "I don't know, he wouldn't tell me. But I think so. And hey, the demon's dead now, remember? So maybe you won't… you know."

Piper exhaled again, nodding slowly. "So, Chris's mother and I apparently get attacked. Think we have anything in common?"

"No!" Phoebe said too quickly, a note of hysteria in her voice. Then she pursed her lips, annoyed with herself again. "I mean, I don't know, but don't ask him. I think it's a really sore subject."

"I won't," Piper promised. Then, after a few seconds of thoughtful silence she changed the subject. "So how are you?"

Phoebe sighed and grimaced. She had expected Piper to ask her about Jason a long time before now. It was just a mark of how strange their lives were that the question came directly after Phoebe telling Piper that she died sometime in the not-so-distant future. She hesitated in answering, thinking that Piper's need was greater than hers at the moment, but Piper looked desperate for a distraction. Phoebe decided that going along with her was the best thing to do.

"Okay, I guess. I mean, I miss him. And I'm sad that…" Phoebe drifted off, trying to fight back the watery lump in her throat. "I'm sad that Jason found out that way, and that he couldn't get past it. And I keep wondering, if I'd done something different…"

"You can't do that to yourself," Piper said immediately, placing a comforting hand on Phoebe's shoulder. "If it's not meant to be, it's not meant to be. And believe me, I understand that well enough," she frowned, and Phoebe knew she was thinking of Leo. Then Piper shook her head and returned to the conversation at hand. "You just have to accept it and move on, you know?"

Coming from anyone else, that would have sounded patronizing, even dismissive, but from Piper it was different. Grateful, Phoebe threw an arm over her sister's shoulders and pulled her into a half hug. Piper laughed and returned it, and then Phoebe pulled away again. She focused on the paper in front of her with a rueful smile.

"Back to work?" Piper asked, eyebrows arching.

"Back to work." Phoebe agreed with a sigh.

"Stop it, Wyatt!" Chris growled, shaking bits of goopy applesauce out of his hair. Wyatt paused in his giggling, tiny face freezing, and Chris realized that the child wasn't used to adults speaking to him so sharply. "Sorry, buddy," Chris said, more quietly now, although he was a little bemused that he felt it necessary to apologize to a toddler. "We're going to try again, okay?"

He slowly lifted the spoon towards Wyatt's mouth. Predictably, not a drop of the applesauce made it past Wyatt's tongue before Wyatt spat the baby food right back into Chris's face. Chris leapt away, but couldn't avoid the flying slop.

"Ugh," he groaned, shaking his head to get rid of the worst of it. He stared at Wyatt for a moment, contemplating deeply. "Okay, so I take it you're not hungry."

Wyatt gurgled.

"Right. So… what else do you want to do?" Chris asked, wondering so why he'd allowed himself to get roped into this situation. He didn't play the babysitter, not even for his infant older brother.

And man, was that a weird thought.

"Never letting you live this down," Chris informed him. "Seriously. Never."

Wyatt's blue eyes twinkled in the too-intelligent way they did sometimes, and Chris worried momentarily that Wyatt understood more than any of them realized. Then Chris shook his head. Of course not. Wyatt was intensely magical, but he wasn't a genius or anything.

"Come on, how about we play with your toys?" Chris asked, removing Wyatt from the highchair and carefully carrying him upstairs to the attic. He set Wyatt down in the already-prepared pen, choosing an object at random from the pile. It turned out to be a rattle. Chris frowned; would Wyatt be interested in that? Weren't they for babies?

He shook it experimentally; Wyatt's lips formed a tiny pout.

"Okay, no," Chris decided, dropping the old toy back into the pile. He grabbed another one, a stuffed bear. He waved it in Wyatt's face.

Wyatt shook his head and the next thing Chris knew, the bear was engulfed in blue-white orbs. It disappeared from his fingers, as did the entire pile of playthings to Wyatt's left.

"Okay, I get it," Chris said, barely refraining from growling again. "What do you want, then?"

Wyatt giggled and smiled, looking distinctly sly. He clapped his tiny hands together.

"Orb it up here," Chris ordered. Wyatt continued to stare at him, the happiness fading from his face. After a second, the somber look turned into a pinched, red expression, and then the tears started.

"Okay, okay! I'll go look for something else," Chris said, on the verge of panicking. How had he gotten pushed into this? He reached around Wyatt and flipped on the baby monitor, grabbing the second one for himself. Piper would be happy with his caution, that was for sure.

He hurried downstairs, scanning the house for something that he knew Wyatt liked. He caught sight of a little booklet with pictures of all sorts of cars. He remembered the way Wyatt had laughed and giggled as Piper had turned the pages for him. He hurried over and scooped it up, anxious at leaving Wyatt alone for even a second. It was probably ridiculous, but when you risked your entire existence to save someone, you tended to get a little overprotective.

He was on the third step when he heard a quiet sound from the monitor in his hand. The first one seemed like nothing, a tiny grunt, but the next one was louder, more troubled. The third sound was a cry, distinctly different from the whiny crocodile tears Wyatt had used earlier, and Chris abandoned walking for orbing. As he reappeared rapidly in the attic, he noticed two things simultaneously. One, that a shimmering, dark form was vanishing into thin air, and two, that Wyatt was projecting his bright force field.

Wyatt began to cry in earnest, and Chris unglued his eyes from the spot where he'd seen the figure disappear. Chris hadn't caught a good look, just the blurred, hazy view of someone shimmering away. Still, it was enough to tell him that something very bad had just happened.

"Shh, it's okay, Wyatt," Chris said, voice shaking a little. After a few moments of coaxing, Wyatt lowered his force-field.

Chris reached into the pen and picked him up, rocking him quietly. "It's okay," Chris said, reassuring both himself and his brother. "You're okay."