This is my first story, so please be a bit gentle. I used to always roll my eyes when someone said this but now I understand how nerve-racking it is to post your own fic. I hope you like it.

Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed.

As he lay across from his wife in their big double bed, he stared at her. He hungrily drank in the sight of her; her brown tresses fanned around her – hair that felt like running water; long eyelashes that rested feather-light on her cheeks; lips that were so damn kissable whenever she smiled her crooked smile. Hands that were slightly hardened from being in the kitchen so regularly – hands that knew how to make him squirm with pleasure, every time. He etched every feature into his mind.

Because he remembered. Being in the underworld, where the rewinding of time was taking place, and in the vicinity of the Source, he remembered. He remembered magic being exposed, the noise and voices of the lunatics camping outside the manor and the anxiousness that seemed to literally ooze from the sisters. But most of all, he remembered his last trip to the mortal world before the time change. He remembered seeing his wife dead.

He remembered seeing her lying on the hospital bed. The blood covering her belly and smeared across her older sister's face; across her face – the ruby liquid that stained her clothes and the white sheets she lay upon. He remembered the lack of movement of her chest – the rising and falling motions that signified breathing. The paleness of her face; the slight purple-ish, bruised, colour around her eyes and lips. The lips he used to kiss good morning and night to.

And as he gently ran his knuckles down Piper's soft, soft cheek, Leo vowed that what he remembered would not come to pass. Magic would not be exposed; mortals would not think that witches were the demons; and no other Halliwell woman would fall victim to man-made weapons – his wife would not fall victim. He would protect them. They would be safe.