After touching base with Bianca and letting her know that he was okay, Chris had finally orbed back to the manor.

He had never expected to return so soon but seeing his aunt had remined him of what the rest of the family was going through and his anger had begun to wane.

Although he was worried that his brother might be annoyed by his unexpected arrival, he went directly to the attic—he wanted to talk to Wyatt before finally facing his parents.

As soon as he materialized, Wyatt looked up from a book he was reading and offered him a surprising smile. Chris instantly felt a wave of relief wash over him—maybe Aunt Paige had been wrong about his brother not taking the news of his former life well? At first glance, he seemed okay.

"Hey little bro, what's up?" The older man said, setting the book beside him on the couch.

Chris was taken aback by his chipper tone for a moment but quickly tried to gather his thoughts.

"Well, a lot is up, actually." Chris replied slowly, looking his brother up and down. "As I think you know."

A brief silence hung in the air and he watched as Wyatt struggled to keep his smile on his face. Clearly, this chipper demeanour was some sort of façade. "Oh, that." The man replied, waving his hand dismissively. "I took a day off work to sort things out. But it'll all be fine soon. Don't worry."

Chris furrowed his brow in confusion. The blonde wasn't making much sense and he needed further clarification.

"It is fine." The younger Halliwell pointed out. "I mean, it's a shock and I'm still kinda pissed that mom and dad never told us—but once we accept it we'll be okay." He paused. "Right?"

Wyatt gave another smile as he glanced at the book he had just placed down.

"Like I said, it'll be fine soon." His brother replied again.

Annoyed with the cryptic nature of his response, Chris took a few long strides until he was able to make out what exactly Wyatt had been reading.

Binding Powerful Magical Beings, the cover of the old tome read in blazing gold letters.

Mouth falling open in surprise, Chris looked back up at his brother.

"You're not serious, Wy." He said in disbelief. The Wyatt he knew would never dream of binding his powers—he loved magic and had always embraced it way more than Chris had. This was definitely out of character for him and Chris now knew that Wyatt was not taking the news of his former self as well as he appeared to be.

He saw a flash of defiance on his brother's face as his cheerful mask finally began to falter.

"Why wouldn't I be serious?" He replied challengingly, placing a hand on the book. "I have more powers than any witch in history—mom and dad always told me not to worry—told me that I have always been a force of good. But we both know that's not really true now, don't we?"

Chris understood why his brother was unnerved by the recent revelations—but this was taking things too far. That future had not come to pass and there was no doubt that his brother was a positive force.

"You are good, Wyatt." He quickly replied, hoping to quell this irrational tirade. "That version of you was kidnapped and tortured for months. You weren't. You've spent your life saving innocents and fighting demons."

The older brother snorted, clearly unconvinced. "The potential has always been there, Chris." He pointed out stubbornly. "I probably shouldn't exist. I'm a threat. But I'm here, so the least I can do is bind my powers so that everyone else is safe."

"Wyatt wasn't brought into this world to be bound." He heard his father's voice whisper, a sudden memory surging to the surface.

Chris knew enough now to realize that this very topic had once been discussed—and dismissed—long ago.

"Your powers aren't supposed to be bound." Chris replied, echoing Leo's distant words.

"We're not supposed to exist." Wyatt shot back.

The younger brother could not stop himself from staring for a moment, shocked by his brother's insistence. He had clearly been grappling with several unhappy thoughts during the past day and this was not something he had ever heard the older man express.

Chris drew a deep breath, steadying himself. "What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, folding his arms across his chest.

Wyatt didn't hesitate. "You know exactly what I mean, Chris." He replied, looking up at his brother. "Unions between witches and whitelighters were banned for a reason." He began, no longer bothering to hide the bitterness in his tone. "I'm the reason. I shouldn't be here. I'm dangerous." He finished, pointing towards himself.

The young man snorted. Wyatt was being ridiculous (but, he recalled, he'd had his moments of ranting too when he had found out). "And me?" He pressed, shooting the older man a glare. "You don't think I should exist either? What about Paige and Mel?"

The blonde shrugged as he paused for a moment, formulating his reply.

"I have way more powers than anyone should." He retorted, repeating what he had said before. "And you—you're the only living person in history to have every whitelighter power. You and Paige were forced into whitelighter duty without any choice. Maybe Mel will be too one day. That's not how it's supposed to be, Chris, and you know it."

As much as he hated to admit it, Chris had to concede that Wyatt struck a chord. He had argued against that same injustice himself a few short weeks ago and had struggled when the elders had informed him that he had simply been born into this role, willing or not.

Sure, he had started to accept it now, and he wouldn't turn his back on his cousins—but it wasn't really fair. Every other whitelighter in history had a choice.

"You know," Wyatt began again. "I wondered why you got called up for whitelighter duty before I did." He said, tilting his head as he examined his younger brother. "But now we know why that is too. You're a beacon of good. You've always been good. You saved the god damn world…from me." The man continued forcefully. "But I'm not like you, Chris. Being good wasn't always my fate."

The dark-haired brother did his best to suppress an eyeroll as he continued to stare ahead.

This was crazy, he thought to himself. They simply had different destinies—that did not mean Wyatt was meant to be evil. They had both been raised surrounded by goodness and light.

What happened in the old timeline had been a blip, brought on by a misguided and malicious elder.

A sudden thought popped into his mind.

"You can't bind all of your powers anyway, Wyatt." He pointed out, recalling more of his uncomfortable conversations Up There. "I told you a few weeks ago—we've never been human and that means we can't clip our wings. You can't get rid of your whitelighter powers."

The older brother scowled for a moment before regaining his composure. "Fine, so I'll still be able to orb, sense and heal. At least none of those are offensive powers. I won't be able to fight."

Chris scoffed again.

"I don't see why that's a good thing, Wyatt." He began, letting out a frustrated sigh. "I get that it's upsetting to find out about the other version of yourself. But that's not you. Think about all of the people you've saved over the years!" He pointed out, hoping the other man would begin to listen to reason. "Hell, you've saved my life more times then I can count! If you get rid of your powers this family is going to be more vulnerable and I don't think any of us want that. The girls need your help now more than ever! You'd be letting Aunt Phoebe down! You'd be letting all of us down!"

There was a heavy silence as Chris finished and he watched his brother look down at the attic's dusty floor. He could sense that he had finally gotten though, at least a little, and he waited patiently for Wyatt to reply.

"I'll help with Quintu." The twice-blessed said, his voice gentler than it had been before. This was the Wyatt he was used to, Chris mused with relief. "But I can't make any promises after that."

Chris gave another sigh but silently decided that he had made enough progress for now. The twice-blessed wasn't going to do anything irrational for the time being. Wyatt would come to his senses during the next week, he was sure of it. It was just going to take a bit more time.

They all needed time.

"You know, you really do sound like dad sometimes." Wyatt commented, finally cracking a genuine smile.

Chris snorted. "Is that a compliment?" He asked, his voice more lighthearted than it had been before.

The older man shrugged. "I don't know. Is sounding like a ninety-eight-year old guardian angel a good thing or not?" He shot back.

With a good-natured scoff, Chris sent a nearby pillow magically hurling towards his brother's head. Wyatt held up his hands in self defence, freezing it and swatting it away before it could strike.

That was more like old times, Chris thought with relief.

"Speaking of the old man," Chris began, glancing towards the door. "Is dad home?"

Wyatt nodded, the smile slowly disappearing from his face. Clearly, he still needed a bit of space.

"The sunroom, I think. As usual."

After a quick thanks Chris turned and began his trek out of the room. Things were far from being settled, but he hoped they could get through the next few days in peace.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Dad?"

Chris found Leo where Wyatt had predicted, and he had paused in the doorway for a moment before deciding to speak. He could still feel sparks of anger flashing below the surface, especially when he had first caught sight of his father's frame, but he did his best to steady himself.

He knew that he had been harsh yesterday—and after what he had learned from Aunt Paige, he had felt unsettled about how they had left things in the kitchen. Perhaps his anger had been bolstered by the whisper of his former life but he reminded himself that this version of his father had been there for him.

The man had always been his hero, and he would always be grateful for all that he had taught him.

No revelation, no matter how shocking, could ever change that.

Leo turned his head abruptly his eyes filling with relief and worry as he caught sight of his youngest son. He had been sitting alone, staring out the sunroom window, and Chris could tell that he was still feeling the stress of the previous day.

"Chris," he said, his voice a worried whisper.

The young man slowly made his way into the room and sat across from his father, his shoulders slumping forward as he tried to think of what to say. He wanted to make amends, while still making it clear that he was upset—and he had no idea how to strike that balance.

"I didn't sense you come in." Leo said, breaking the somewhat tense silence that had fallen.

"Oh. Yeah." Chris muttered before closing his eyes for a moment and concentrating on the internal barrier he had raised the previous morning. He quickly let it down. "I kinda blocked you."

Leo looked dejected. His son had never done that before.

"Well, I blocked everyone actually. Except Prue, Peyton and Parker." He clarified, not wanting his dad to think he had singled him out. "I just needed a bit of space."

The man nodded slowly. Chris could see the sympathy in his gaze. "I get that." He began slowly. His voice was more cautious than Chris was accustomed to—perhaps he was worried about setting his son off again and Chris felt another pang of guilt at the thought. "I'm sorry we upset you. I knew it wouldn't be easy, and it wasn't."

"Look, dad." He began again, his hand fidgeting with the side of the wicker chair. "You're right, I was really pissed off yesterday. And I'm still trying to process all of this. But I didn't mean to hurt you."

Chris was relieved to see his dad relax slightly.

Leo already looked more like the father he had always known and loved.

There was a brief pause before the young man spoke again.

"In the past," he inquired, still wanting to know more. "We didn't get along, did we?"

His dad hesitated before shaking his head, forlorn at the thought.

"No, we didn't," he replied with a sad sigh. "I didn't trust you at first, and that created tension. And when I found out who you were I also found out how horrible things had been between us where you came from." The older man paused, recalling the horrible thoughts he wished he could keep buried. "You hated me, Chris." He said, his voice faltering as he spoke. "And just when we were starting to make amends," the man's voice began to quiver, "you were killed."

Leo paused and Chris watched as he tried to regain his composure.

There was no doubt that it was hard for his father to recount all of this. Even briefly. Chris did his best to muster a sympathetic smile.

"I only managed to keep it together because you weren't really gone. But even then, I nearly lost my mind with grief."

Chris let out a long, slow breath as he tried to formulate his response. Part of him wanted to apologize for the hatred his past self had, apparently, harboured. But he didn't remember much of that, aside from a few hazy feelings and whispers.

And he was still struggling to make sense of where his past self ended and his current self began.

He did, however, remember how he had stormed out yesterday morning. It seemed logical to start there.

"I called you Leo back then, didn't I?" He asked, recalling the moment he had seen his father's heart crumble.

Shouting at him. Calling him by his name. That had clearly hurt the man more than he had known.

His father nodded, a slight redness now in his eyes. "Yeah." He replied, his voice soft. "You did start calling me dad eventually though. After a lot of pushing from your mother and aunts."

Despite the current mood, Chris gave a small smile. He could almost picture that situation and he was glad that his former self had gotten there in the end.

"Dad. Would it kill you to call him dad?" He heard Phoebe's voice whisper.

"I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't. And we take full responsibility for that, I—"

Chris waved his hand, cutting his father off on mid sentence. He had not come to hear more apologies. He knew that they were sorry and that's not what this was about.

"It's okay, dad. I understand." He said, warmed by his father's instant expression of relief. "I talked to Aunt Paige and she told me a little more about the past." He said, explaining his current desire for reconciliation. "I'm still struggling to come to terms with all of this, but I wanted you to know that I don't hate you, okay?"

The first flickers of a smile appeared on Leo's face as Chris continued.

"You were always there for me, dad." He started, smiling back at the man who had helped him become who he was today. "All of the time we spent together—every little league game, every camping trip, every evening spent at the beach. Every time you dried my tears and told me it was going to be okay. That meant the world to me, and nothing can change that."

He paused, letting out a breath as he watched the relief and joy spread across his father's face.

Chris felt relieved as well. It felt good to affirm the bond he had always felt, even in the face of life-changing revelations.

"You're the best, dad. Sometimes, you know me better than I know myself."

"Chris, you have no idea how much it means to hear you say that." His father replied, his breaths finally slower and steadier than they had been before.

It felt as if a dark haze had been lifted from the room.

"I couldn't be prouder of the man you've become. The man you've always been." Leo began again, his green eyes welling with love as he looked at his youngest son. "You're brave, and tough, and smart and determined. And I know I haven't really said it yet, but when I found out you were destined to follow in my footsteps, I was overjoyed. I know you can tackle every challenge ahead of you. You're a natural healer, in all areas of your life. I'm humbled to think that I was lucky enough to play a role in that."

The young man smiled. He had indeed sensed his father's pride as soon as he announced that he was the Charmed One's new whitelighter (but the man had, wisely, kept his joy somewhat contained for his mother's sake).

It was nice to finally hear him say it outright and it made him feel better about the situation he was currently in.

"I'm trying my best." He replied, letting out a deep breath as his mind drifted to the week ahead. With all of the unrest caused by these recent revelations, Chris' mind had not been as focused on the vanquish that was looming closer with every passing day.

He suddenly felt a bit guilty for getting distracted but his father was quick to reassure him.

"You're handling it wonderfully." Leo said, another proud smile on his face. "I know that the girls couldn't do it without you—this is only just beginning, but you've already provided so much drive and support." He paused, glancing back towards the kitchen. "They started on the potion this morning, you know." The man continued. "They're going to take on this challenge—and so many more—because of your guidance and support."

Chris looked down as he felt a slight flush creep across his cheeks.

He was less convinced that he played such a crucial role, but he did his best to accept the praise. The young man doubted that he would ever be half the whitelighter that his father had been, but he was grateful that he had something to aspire to.

"Thanks, dad." He said, looking back up at his father before glancing towards the door.

"I should probably go check in with them." He noted, feeling more set on his task then he had for the last twenty-four hours. Chris hesitated for a moment. "Then I should probably talk to mom, too."

The older man smiled, impressed by how well his son had pulled himself together in the wake of his shock.

The last little while had been rough, but it was only a matter of time before all amends were made.

"I'm always here if you need anything." He replied, watching the as the lanky brunette stood up from his seat.

"I know."

Chris knew that his family was behind him and he could not stop another smile from spreading across his lips.

Everything was going to be okay.

For now, at least…