A/N: - Right, this is set around 23 years after the S6 finale. Chris is like a few days short of being 23, Wyatt is 25 (and good), and they also have a brother Darmuid, who is currently 16, going on to 17. Only Piper, Leo, Wyatt, Chris and Darmuid will be featured here, Paige, Phoebe and their respective families will only be mentioned here at most. They no longer live at the Manor.

A short note on the powers scenario, as they sort of play a pivotal role here- Wyatt has the shield, both kinds of telekinesis, premonition, orbing, healing, sensing and glamouring.

Chris has telekinesis, temporal statis, elder bolts, orbing, healing, sensing and glamouring.

Darmuid has molecular combustion, telekinesis and an advanced premonition power that allows him to kind of experience the visions, instead of just watching them like a movie, think of this as a super charged premonition, I think Phoebe had one of those in S5,in that gypsy episode, I could be mistaken though.

The reason that Darmuid doesn't have any whitelighter powers is because Leo had already 'fallen from grace' when he'd been conceived, so he's part witch and part mortal, not whitelighter/elder.

Disclaimer- I don't own Charmed, I do own Darmuid, this idea, the words, etc, you get the picture.

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Chapter 1

16 year old Darmuid woke up with a start. Something's wrong! His mind screamed in panic.

In an instant, he was up, not even bothering to put on pants over the boxers that he was currently dressed in- as a Seer, he had learned to trust his gut instincts- they were never wrong.

Concentrating, he tried to pin down the source of his worry, and within a second he got it- Chris!

Quickly, he had crossed the passage that separated his room and his older brother's, and had entered.

He found Chris thrashing around in his bed; his face was contorted with pain and worry. Darmuid frowned. His family-in-trouble-Seer-instincts had never been triggered by a brother's nightmare before.

Nonetheless, he reached over and touched his brother's sweat drenched shoulder as an attempt to wake him up- which was when he felt the slight pull on his navel that signaled his premonition power.

As soon as the premonition started, he knew that it was of the past, there was something else too, but he couldn't quite place it. He looked around at his surroundings- he was at the Manor, the Living Room to be precise.

He heard a crash just behind him, and whirled at the sound. What he saw effectively stopped his heart. His mother was on the floor, bleeding from a gaping wound on her stomach.

On instinct, he reached out to take her hand, only to have it pass right through Piper. That was when his rational self kicked in. This is a premonition, he told himself reassuringly, of the past. Someone must've healed her, 'cause she isn't dead, she's asleep, right here at home. Wyatt and Chris are gonna sense that she's hurt, they'll orb here anytime now, heal her, and everything's gonna be just fine.

He told himself to relax. Easier said than done- watching your mom bleed to death, even if you did know that it'd turn out okay, was pretty hard.

Minutes ticked by, minutes that seemed like eons to Darmuid. Piper, all this time had been loosing blood in torrents. Damn it! Why wasn't anyone coming! The 16 year old Halliwell thought desperately- he had never felt this helpless his entire life.

His eyes wandered to a window right beside them, and he saw the blood red sigil glowing on the sill. His brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to remember exactly what the sigil did.

It was made by evil, he knew that. A sigil created by white magick would've glowed white or blue, not red.

He gasped out loud as he finally realized the sigil's purpose was- it was a shield- a powerful one at that.

One which would keep whitelighters from sensing when a loved one was hurt. Or from hearing them if they called them, Darmuid thought with a sick feeling in his stomach.

Finally, he heard the front door open, and he sighed in relief. Someone was here, at least!

Footsteps resounded in Darmuid's ears, as the owner of the footsteps made their way towards them, or towards Piper, anyway.

The 'owner of those footsteps' turned out to be Chris. "Mom!", he shouted, throwing himself at his mom's side. Darmuid studied this younger version of his older brother; he couldn't have been more than 14 or so.

Well, what're you waiting for? Darmuid thought, his desperation growing as he stole a glance at his mother's now ashen face, and dull eyes, heal her!

"M-mom, p-please hold on." He heard the 14 year old Chris tell their mother through his sobs. "I c-can't h-heal, mom, I-I'll call W-Wyatt, or d-dad."

Darmuid was floored. Since when could Chris not heal? The witch, thought. As far as I remember, he's had that power since he was 2 years old or something.

The 14 year old Chris was currently shouting his lungs out calling for Wyatt, Paige and their dad.

Darmuid shook his head sadly. With that shield on the house, there was no way that anyone of them would be able to hear him.

Gazing back at his near dead mother, he found himself sobbing now too. The fact that it was just a premonition (one which still made no sense), didn't make this any less painful.

Piper was speaking to Chris now, her voice the lowest of all whispers. "Be good, p-peanut, w-won't you? B-be b-brave for m-me, O.K.?" The oldest Charmed One said, her last reserve of strength was ebbing away.

"M-mom, p-please don't go. Y-you c-can't g-go mom, please." Chris sobbed heart breakingly, holding his hand over Piper's wound in vain, doubtlessly trying to heal.

But nothing happened. No blissful healing light erupted from Chris' hands. "I'm s-sorry, m-mom, I'm s-sorry."

Darmuid's heart broke for his older brother. He could relate to how helpless Chris felt right then. Being part witch and part mortal himself, he'd been in situations when a loved one had been hurt, and he'd been powerless to heal them.

Of course, the situation had never gotten as dire as this.

"Don't be." Piper whispered, using the last dribble of strength she possessed to summon a slight smile to her face. "I'm s-so p-proud of y-you, b-baby. It's m-my time, I l-love y-you s-so much."

And then Piper Halliwell, the Oldest Charmed One died.

Darmuid fought to get out of this hellish premonition, but of course, it was futile. Once a premonition started, it would run its course- regardless of whether or not the Seer getting the premonition wanted to see it through.

Abruptly, the scene changed- the surroundings that Darmuid was currently in melted and metamorphosed into a different place altogether.

It was the attic; Wyatt and Chris were sitting together in the couch, flipping through the Book.

That's funny, Darmuid thought, where am I?

Studying their faces more closely, he came to the conclusion that it was probably a month or so after mom had…even knowing that it wasn't actually real, he still couldn't bring himself to say the awful word.

As an effort to keep his mind from replaying the horrific scene that he'd just witnessed, he listened to the conversation that his older brothers were having.

Chris was arguing with Wyatt over something, and Darmuid could tell that this was something serious, not normal brotherly bickering.

"Wyatt, you know that we aren't allowed to do something like that." Chris was saying.

"I mean, using magick to clean up a room is one thing, Wy, but to use a spell to win the lottery, that's just wrong. You know it is. You can't do something like that!"

Something changed in Wyatt then, his eyes became more bestial somehow, and both Darmuid and Chris instinctively recoiled.

"I'm Twice Blessed! I can do whatever I wanna! And if you won't help me, that's just fine, I don't need you, Christopher."

Darmuid felt like he'd been slapped. The Wyatt he knew would never say anything like that. And the way he'd said 'Christopher'… of course, Wyatt called Chris by his full name now and then, mostly in jest, but now, he'd said the word condescendingly, like it was the name of some lowly demon.

Darmuid closed his eyes and shook his head, the better to make sense of this crazy premonition, and when he opened his eyes, he found that the scene had changed again.

Once more, Wyatt and Chris were arguing, but this time they were in the Living Room of the Manor. Wyatt was wearing a full length black leather coat, buttoned up, over black jeans. His hair reached his shoulders, and he had a beard.

Darmuid shuddered. Wyatt looked exactly like a demon or a warlock. Studying his brother's face more closely, he saw that Wyatt's face was a blank mask, emotionless, and soul less, Darmuid thought with a shudder.

"This is the thing that I find the most debilitating about you, Christopher." Wyatt was saying, once more in that condescending tone that was not unlike nails on chalkboard for Darmuid.

"Magick isn't good or evil, it just is. Power isn't good or evil, it just is. And whoever has the most power wins. I'm sorry Christopher, if you're not with me, you're against me." 'Wyatt' (for by now, Darmuid was having serious doubts over whether this person was actually his brother.) said, flicking his hand as he did.

The telekinetic gesture sent Chris flying out the open front doors, and he hit the front porch with a sickening thud.

Wyatt looked at the form of his brother closely, and made a 'come thither' gesture with his right hand, shutting the front doors with a slam.

Darmuid was a 16 year old witch, and he'd been raised as one, and after 16 years of witch hood, he had assumed that he had a pretty good grasp of magick.

This premonition, however, had shattered that complacent theory into a thousand tiny bits. He was seeing some kind of a weird alternate reality thing where mom was gone, where he apparently didn't exist, and Wyatt, well, he was acting most un- Wyatt- ishly.

While he was still trying to make sense of it all, his surroundings began to melt one more time. Darmuid sighed. He had a feeling that whatever he was about to see wouldn't be pretty.

When his location assumed a definite picture, he found himself in a dark, damp cave which was lit by torches.

Underworld! He thought, as he recognized the place where he was in. He had been here a couple of times before, with his brothers of course.

The brothers had an unspoken rule about that- you don't go into the Underworld alone, period.

Then he noticed something else- a dark haired man was lying face down at his feet. Fear ripped through him as he recognized the 'man' It was Chris!

Chris groaned. Darmuid noticed right then that his brother was in an extremely bad shape. His shirt was ripped and torn. There were several wounds on his body, including a few that looked like whip weals on his back.

And he was thin. Man, was he thin. Chris always had been lean, he didn't have the athletic physique that Wyatt or Darmuid had- but this Chris wasn't just thin.

Emaciated was the word for his brother right now. Oh God, Chris, what's happened to you? Darmuid thought.

So, is it any good? Please, review, people! I won't continue this otherwise.