Six Years Later

"She looks like a walnut," Zazi says.

"Oh, shut up," Chris says, and pulls the shawl back over Winnie's face. Already irritated by the smoke in Zazi's cave, she doesn't protest, instead snuggling closer into her carrier, gripping the gauzy fabric in one tiny fist. "You promised not to be rude."

Zazi flaps one of her wings sheepishly. "Well, she does," she says defensively. "Alright - a pretty walnut. Or whatever word you use for babies. Cute. I was trying to be nice, honest."

"Winnie the Walnut," Chris says thoughtfully, stroking Winnie's round forehead through the light blue gauze. Winnie gurgles in response, cooing at him through a haze of light silk. It belonged to Patty Halliwell - a wedding gift from her mother, the indomitable Grams. It passed to Prue, and then to Phoebe, and it lives in Winnie's crib now, an early Wiccaning gift from her Great Aunt. From mother to daughter to sister to niece: a tradition Chris and Bianca can both approve of. "I can live with it. What do you think, little one?"

Winnie coos again, flailing out with her fist. The shawl bunches up over her face, tangling in the baby blanket that's wrapped tightly around her legs.

"She likes it," Zazi pronounces confidently. "Push her closer - I want to listen to her heart."

Chris eyes one of Zazi's talons pointedly. "You realize human children are extremely fragile, right? Not all of us spend the first decade of our lives inside a diamond egg."

"Hush," Zazi says, spreading her wings wide. The air seems to dampen, the smoke growing fragrant and soft. Winnie goes instantly quiet, her eyes wide behind the mask of the shawl. "Let me chat with her a bit, Chris. Before I perform the blessing."

Chris sighs, stealing one last lingering touch to Winnie's hand, before taking a step back. She doesn't fuss - practically a miracle, she's such a clingy baby. Chris and Bianca actually had to move the crib into their bedroom since she throws a fit whenever she doesn't have at least one of them in her sight. But Zazi must be working some kind of magic to keep her calm - or perhaps, she just senses the dragon's magic, just like Chris can. She's too young yet, for Chris to be able to tell how strong she is, or what her powers will look like, but...he can tell they're there. That much is obvious.

"Hello, daughter," Zazi says, her soundless voice gentle, more forgiving than Chris has ever heard it. "You are safe, and you are welcomed. Show me your heart, little one. Don't be afraid."

Chris watches intently, nervous eyes on the dragon's sharp scales, so close to the carrier (well - sharp everything), but Zazi barely even moves, and Winnie is calm and quiet, just looking up at the dragon with wide eyes. A long, sleepy moment passes, and then Zazi heaves a great, rumbling sigh. The cave fills with smoke once more, but it's still light and sweet smelling - more like mist.

"Thank you," Zazi says, lifting her head to look at Chris. Her round, shiny eyes sparkle faintly with emotion. "The loveliest heart I've ever heard, Chris. Thank you both."

Chris steps forward, leaning back down to sit on the ground next to Winnie's carrier. She gives a little happy cry when she catches sight of him, kicking her legs in excitement beneath her blanket. "Good things inside the shell, then?"

"Only the best," Zazi says. She extends her wings a bit more, draping them around the edges of the cave. Blocking part of the light from the outside, it makes the space they're sitting in feel dampened, shrouded in warmth and intimacy. "A strong will and a head for numbers. She's going to make you very proud, Chris. She'll carry your legacy with grace and honor."

Chris pulls back the shawl, smiling down at his sweet little girl. His heart lives in his throat, nowadays. Always full to bursting, threatening to overflow completely. "I already knew that."

"Pick her up," Zazi commands, tilting her head. "You know what to do."

Chris obeys without thought, lifting Winnie carefully out of her carrier, keeping Patty's shawl wrapped loosely around the baby's waist. She settles quietly into his arms, serene as she's ever been, and Chris reaches out with his free hand and orbs the offering bowl over to within reach.

"Daughter of Bianca, Piper, Patricia, and Penelope," Zazi says, as Chris carefully dips the heel of his hand into the bowl, and then gently smoothes it over the crown of Winnie's forehead, letting the rosewater drip into her dark hair. "May the Goddess guard and guide you, and the God hide and heal your spirit. May you find kindness in the gentle moon, and courage in the orange sunrise."

"Blessed be," Chris murmurs, dipping his hand again. Winnie kicks out in excitement, grinning up at him as he wets her hair once more, wiggling in delight at the cool water running down her head.

"Daughter of Christopher, Leo, Victor, and Allen," Zazi continues. The water in the offering bowl changes, darkening to a deep indigo. But when Chris dips his hand in, it goes clear, leaving no stain. Moon water - dragons are the only creatures in existence who can conjure it. "May you find balance beneath the Oak, and harmony among the Holly. May the earth beneath your feet always be steady, and the sky above you fill you with heaven's light."

"Blessed be," Chris says, letting his hand pass over her head a fourth time. Winnie's hair is almost soaked now, and he lets a few drops drip onto her nose, making her wiggle again. Pulling up a corner of the shawl, Chris uses it to dry her face, cradling her close to his chest.

"Blessed be," Zazi says, and blows a wave of smoke over them. Chris blinks through it, hearing Winnie cry out in slight alarm, but her hair is bone dry when the smoke lifts, fluffed up into soft curls against his forearm. She blinks up at him, her mouth growing slack, and sticks her fist in her mouth.

"That's right," Chris says, bouncing her a little, grinning down at her. She relaxes at the sight of his smile, kicking her feet again. "That's right, we're done with all that now. Don't you feel better? Huh? That's my girl."

"Should've done it in Latin," Zazi says fondly, folding her wings back against her torso. The light pours back into the room, making Chris wince. "That would've really knocked her little socks off."

"A moon water blessing in Latin?" Chris says incredulously. "Maybe when she's older. Like, I dunno. Thirty or forty years older."

"It's not that bad!"

"You blow that smoke at someone in Latin and see how long it takes for them to go running through the woods naked, or some other crazy shit like that," Chris says, rolling his eyes. "It's bad enough in English. She's not gonna sleep through the night for at least a week."

Sure enough, Winnie is practically vibrating in his arms, her face alert and vibrant. She cries out loudly - a sort of happy, manic sound - and Chris starts to bounce her a little faster, already feeling her nervous energy start to twist up into frustration. They've got a long week ahead, he thinks with resignation. A long two weeks. Maybe three.

"Your wife seemed to enjoy it," Zazi says archly. "She still sends me a nice, tasty baby goat every year to thank me."

Chris bites the inside of his cheek. The night of Bianca's moon water blessing is not something he wants to spend much time thinking about while holding his infant daughter. Or in the company of anyone other than Bianca, really, and even then he'd prefer to be behind a locked door.

"Funny how this walnut was born almost exactly nine months after the vernal equinox," Zazi continues. "What a legacy you have indeed, little Winnifred - "

"Aaand, that's enough of that," Chris says, climbing to his feet. As soon as he leaves Winnie's direct line of sight, she starts to fuss, struggling against the little seatbelt that keeps her safely tucked inside her seat. "I should get her home, Bianca is anxious enough not being able to be here."

"Ah, that reminds me," Zazi says. One of her trunks flips open, and a small cloth bag floats over to Chris' side. "This is for her - it should help with the symptoms."

"I thought there was no cure for the magical flu, other than isolation from magic until the virus passed," Chris says, taking the bag.

"You mortals don't know everything," Zazi says with a huff. "Don't ask me what it is, and make sure she takes it at night - after midnight works best. You can mix it into tea but not coffee. Steep it for six hours at least, but the longer the better."

"Noted," Chris says, tucking it away carefully. Winnie is full-on fussing now, and he picks up her carrier, gently bouncing her to keep her calm. "And Zaz...thank you."

Zazi blows a puff of smoke out of one nostril, tilting her head in her own version of a smile. "The honor is mine, my friend."

Chris reaches out and strokes his palm down the edge of her tail, deftly avoiding the spikes. Her scales ripple in response. "Your friendship is the real honor," he says seriously. Zazi snorts a little, scorching the edge of an antique fainting couch. "I'm serious!"

"Go back to your wife," Zazi says affectionately. "And bring that walnut around again. I want to get to know her."

"She'll know you," Chris promises with a smile. "She's got your smoke in her lungs now."

"Don't you forget it," Zazi says proudly. Chris orbs away grinning - fat chance of that.

Chris can hear Wyatt and Billie arguing as he orbs back to the house, though their angry voices cut off abruptly when they hear his footsteps on the hardwood. It was one of the reasons he and Bianca chose this house, when they were looking - the hallways and high ceilings allow sound to carry through everywhere. There is no sneaking up on anyone, in their home, no matter what kind of magic powers you've got.

"Chris!" Wyatt pops his head out of the kitchen, his hair pulled back in a low ponytail. He looks like a surfer nowadays, his hair long, perpetually unbrushed, and always in some kind of bun. Chris is informed that it's in style, and actually very cool, and looking like a bum is the entire point,duh. "How'd it go?"

"Fine," Chris says, setting Winnie's carrier carefully down on the low table pushed up against the living room wall. Wyatt hurries over eagerly, already making faces at her, almost bouncing in his eagerness. "What's going on - you guys still fighting about that girl from Seattle?"

"No," Wyatt says, a little too quickly. Chris smirks at him, gesturing for him to take over, and Wyatt grins and starts to extract Winnie from her little seatbelt, lifting her gingerly into his arms. "There's my favorite girl," Wyatt murmurs, cradling Winnie against his chest and bouncing her gently. Winnie wiggles in excitement, ecstatic as she always is to see her favorite surfer bum uncle. "Did you have fun with Auntie Dragon? Yeah? Inhaled some moon smoke, huh?"

"She is officially moon blessed and extremely hyped," Chris confirms, trailing after them both as Wyatt bounces and grins his way back towards the kitchen. "Seriously, Wyatt - did she come back?"

"No, worrywart," Wyatt says, pitching his voice in a higher, cheerful register, for Winnie's sake. "No, we weren't fighting about that. Billie was just - " Wyatt stops abruptly when the woman herself appears in the doorway, a scowl etched on her face. "...making lunch," Wyatt finishes weakly, his grin slipping more into 'sheepish' territory. He glances back at Chris nervously, who shakes his head silently.

"I have never in my life made food for a man," Billie pronounces sternly, her arms crossed and eyes narrowed. "And I'm not about to start now. Tell the class what you were really about to say, Wyatt, go on."

Wyatt looks back at Chris again, still grinning with all of his teeth, just on the edge of manic. "Just chatting with Chris and Winnie about what an intelligent, well-balanced, powerful, smart, pretty aunt you are in every facet and area of your life. Hey, speaking of lunch..."

Billie snorts loudly, and knocks her elbow against the jam of the door as she uncrosses her arms. She curses under her breath, rubbing it with her other hand. "Oh yeah sure," she drawls, moving out of the way to let Wyatt and Winnie bounce past into the kitchen. Chris pauses at her side, healing the bruise with a brief touch. She smiles at him in thanks, a bit wanly now that Wyatt is out of sight. "Seattle," she stage whispers, raising an eyebrow meaningfully.

"Figured," Chris mumbles back.

"I'm officially washing my hands, you talk to him about it," Billie says quietly, shaking her head as she turns away. Chris follows her into the kitchen, trying not to smile too obviously. They're honestly just so predictable.

Wyatt and Winnie are chest deep in the fridge, and Parker is sitting at the kitchen island, chopping up strawberries with one of Chris' good kitchen athames. Chris immediately beelines to her side and neatly plucks it out of her hand, shooting her a look at her protest. "Hush," he says, handing her a normal knife instead. "Come on now, you know better."

"It just cuts better," Parker grumbles, but resumes her chopping. "Aunt Bills and I are gonna make strawberry shortcake, Chris - can Winnie have some?"

"She's only seven months old, Parker, she can't have solid food yet," Chris says.

"Yeah, but if we mushed some up with whipped cream, we thought maybe she'd like it," Parker says eagerly. She dumps her cutting board of cubed strawberries into a waiting bowl, turning her head to grin at Billie, who is lurking by the sink, feathers still ruffled. "Mom and Dad started doing that with Peyton when she was around the same age. Not with cake though - just peas and stuff, but still."

"Maybe," Chris concedes, squeezing past Wyatt to get to the cupboard where they keep the tea. He runs a quick hand over Winnie's head as he moves past.

"That means no," Parker says, frowning a little.

"No means no, and maybe means maybe. Wyatt, did you seriously drink all the green again?" Chris tosses the empty box towards the recycling bin, turning around to give the small crowd that has gathered in his kitchen the stink eye. "You know, it occurs to me that none of you idiots actually live here, and yet somehow, I never manage to be fast enough to drink my own damn tea."

"Hey, I live here," Billie protests.

"Only technically," Chris says. "On a temporary basis."

"Wow, Park, I guess 'temporary' meant something different in the other timeline too," Wyatt says, emerging from the cavernous fridge with one of Winnie's pre-prepared bottles in one hand. "Better add that to your translation dictionary."

"'Maybe' means 'no,' and 'temporary' means 'for the last six months, and probably indefinitely into the future until I admit that it's permanent,'" Parker says, her eyes comically wide. She gives an exaggerated nod. "Right. I'll add it in."

"Neither of you are funny," Chris says archly. He flips on the electric kettle for water with a flick of his hand. "I guess I'll just make my extremely sick wife some bargain bin tea, then - "

"Tell her she can have some of the shortcake!" Parker chirps, shoving her strawberry bowl into the fridge. "She's the one who picked out the recipe. It was either this or black forest cake, but Bianca said she liked strawberries better. Hey - did you get that from Zazi?" Parker edges up against Chris' elbow, peering at the little bag of medicine curiously. "Wow, it smells like - wow." Her eyes water a little, and she angles her face away.

Chris winces. "You're probably more sensitive to it than we are," he says apologetically. "It's supposed to help Bianca."

"What is it?"

"Probably just malachite dust," Billie chimes in, sounding bored. "With some other dragon secrets mixed in. Wyatt, watch the baby," she says sharply, jerking her head around suddenly. Wyatt glares at her, one hand laid protectively against Winnie's back. "You almost slammed her head into that cupboard!"

"Oh, I did not," Wyatt snaps. Winnie laughs in his hold, delighted by the commotion.

"They've been at each other's throats all day," Parker whispers to Chris. She glances over her shoulder at the scowling pair. "Aunt Billie said something mean about that demon girl Wyatt liked."

"Has he heard from her?" Chris asks, concerned. Parker shakes her head. "Well, that's something."

"I think he still wants to get in touch with her though," Parker whispers. "I heard them fighting about it."

"Great," Chris mutters with a sigh.

" - really don't appreciate what you're implying," Wyatt is saying, clearly struggling hard to keep up the cheerful, baby-friendly tone of voice.

Billie doesn't bother. "Would you just sit down please? And stop that stupid bouncing, you're going to make her nauseous."

"She has to eat something to be nauseous! Which is what I'm trying to do here, if you hadn't noticed - "

"Better check it then, unless you wanna burn her mouth off," Billie says snidely. Wyatt visibly stops himself from replying, turning sharply back to the microwave. Winnie laughs loudly, kicking her feet against Wyatt's waist.

"Right," Chris says, into the sudden, awkward silence. "You two are clearly fine. No issues at all, here." Parker elbows him sharply, biting her lip.

Wyatt shoots him a withering look. "I'll watch Winnie for awhile," he says, refusing to look over at Billie, who is stirring sugar and butter together with extreme force. "Chris - why don't I take her to the Manor? Mom and Richard are still in New York, but Paige and the boys are house sitting, and they haven't seen Winnie in awhile."

Chris reaches out and takes one of Winnie's flailing hands, letting her curl her fingers around his thumb. "She definitely needs to burn off some energy," he says. "Fine - just for the afternoon. I don't have a bag ready for her to stay overnight, and Bianca…"

"Don't worry about it," Wyatt assures him, cupping Winnie's head with his big palm. "Seriously - we'll have fun, right?" He nudges Chris' arm with his elbow. "Just take care of Bianca. I'll handle the baby stuff, don't worry."

"You inviting yourself to spend the night, then?" Billie mutters.

"Bills," Chris says, rolling his eyes.

"What?" Billie stirs a little harder.

"I think that sugar and butter is sufficiently creamed by now, Aunt Bills," Parker says delicately. Billie stops stirring abruptly, dropping the spatula with another scowl. "But...thank you! It looks great!" She gives Billie a sunny grin, which seems to thaw the ice just a bit. Parker is one of a very small group of people who can pull that off, and Chris suspects it's because Parker is just too stubbornly cheerful to care when it doesn't work. "Wow, Chris, I think your dragon tea is ready." Parker steps away from the stove, holding her nose, her eyes watering.

"Sorry," Chris says, quickly picking up the mug and moving to carry it out of the room. "I'm gonna take this up. Please don't kill each other in front of my daughter," he calls over one shoulder.

"Or me," he hears Parker add sternly. Still somehow cheerful, though.

They've turned the spare bedroom into a temporary sick room, warding it against magic with the strongest spells they could find. As Chris steps through the door, he feels the effects immediately, and he has to pause for a second against the doorway until he gets his bearings again. It feels like a change in air pressure or something - like your ears popping, but much more disorienting.

"Hey honey," Bianca says ruefully, watching him with red eyes from the bed. She still looks terrible, but her color is a little better than it was yesterday, and her voice sounds less hoarse, too. "How did it go?"

"Wonderfully," Chris says, more honest, now. He moves to sit next to her on the bed, setting the tea on her bedside table carefully. "This is from Zazi - a dragon secret. It needs to steep until midnight - make sure you don't drink it until then."

Bianca hums in vague interest, rolling over a little so he has room to lay down next to her. "Whatever," she says impatiently, "tell me - "

"Yes, yes, okay," Chris says, settling next to her on the pillow. She squeezes in close, her hair falling limply against his shoulder. "It was beautiful, to be honest," he says quietly. "Winnie went quiet as soon as it started - she did so well. Barely fussed at all. And she changed the blessing, from your ceremony. It was...yeah. Beautiful."

Bianca sighs forlornly. "I should have been there," she says, coughing a little. "I can't believe that I - "

"Don't go there," Chris admonishes. "You can watch my memory of it when you're better. I know a spell."

"It's not the same," Bianca says sadly.

"No, but it's better than nothing." Chris kisses her forehead. "I'm sorry, baby. Maybe we should have postponed it..."

"No, if we'd missed the equinox, we would've had to wait an entire year, and I don't want her unprotected for that long," Bianca says firmly. She coughs again, muffling it into a handkerchief she has clutched in her free hand. "It's bad enough that we keep putting off the Wiccaning."

Chris stiffens. "I thought you agreed with me about - "

"I didn't mean it like that," Bianca snaps, then closes her eyes briefly. "Sorry. I'm - my head is pounding, and I can't manage to sleep for longer than an hour or two, and - "

"It's okay," Chris soothes, pressing his lips against her forehead again, much longer this time. Bianca sags into his embrace, sniffling quietly. "It's alright, sweetheart. It's been a rough week."

"I just meant," Bianca says quietly, "I'm worried. The moon water blessing is powerful, but it still doesn't beat the proper ceremony. And I wish we could just...figure something out already, that's all."

"Leo thought maybe if he and the Elders performed it, it might - guide it in the right direction," Chris says delicately, already knowing that she'll hate the idea.

"A man, performing a Wiccaning? No." Bianca shakes her head stubbornly. "And the only female Elder we can stand is Elena, and she'll never agree."

"If we're determined to do the ceremony, and determined to somehow prevent your mother from appearing," Chris says gently, "we might not have any other alternative, Bee."

Bianca is quiet for a long moment. "I know why you don't want to summon your great grandmother," she says, and rushes to finish as Chris stiffens again. "I know, honey, I know. I know. But I just - this is important, Chris, and - God, I don't want to ask you to do it, but I think I'm gonna have to. I'm sorry - "

"Alright," Chris says, forcing himself to relax. "It's okay, I know what you mean."

"If Piper could do it," Bianca says, trailing off.

"There's no way she could stop your mother's spirit from showing up. I mean - with the Power of Three, maybe, but none of them are experienced enough with spirit guiding to do something that...delicate, and - Penny Halliwell is just…" Chris sighs.

"I know," Bianca says again. Her wry laugh turns into a cough halfway through, and Chris rubs her back softly, wincing up at the ceiling in sympathy. "Let's just...we'll talk about it later. We'll just have to figure something out, I guess."

Chris reaches up to rub his forehead, as subtly as he can. The null field in the room has the side effect of giving him bad headaches, and Bianca's started to notice, and order him out of the room whenever he shows signs of pain. She refuses to even entertain the idea of bringing Winnie inside the room, either - which Chris agrees with, of course, but clearly the separation is taking its toll on Bianca. When he comes in to check on her at night, he can tell she's been crying. "Do you think I'm just being a coward about it? I know you're wondering too - who would show up, when we did it."

Bianca tangles her hand in his shirt, tugging at him affectionately. "Certainly would be something," she says softly, "to see multiple versions of those aunts of yours in the same room."

Chris doesn't even know how to process that possibility, quite honestly. The Wiccaning ceremony is an old tradition, and a powerful one in the Halliwell line, but - as always, the nature of their situation makes it both complicated and mysterious. "I don't know whether to hope for it or not," he says quietly. To see his family again, after so long...he can't even picture it.

Bianca presses her face against his chest in silent support, rubbing his stomach. They lay there for a moment in the quiet, matching their breathing together.

"Billie started things up with Wyatt again about Stella," Chris says after a minute. Bianca jerks her head up in surprise. "Apparently she said something - I dunno. Parker said they've been fighting."

"They must've soundproofed my room again," Bianca grumbles. "You gotta take that spell off the door, Chris - I'm serious."

"I will," Chris assures her. "Did Parker say anything to you?"

"No," Bianca says with a sigh. "The poor kid's freaked out enough by this 'magical flu' shit. She mostly just comes in here to reassure herself that I'm not about to drop dead any minute."

"Magic in general freaks her out," Chris says sadly. "I don't know what the hell Phoebe and Coop are thinking, with this Magic School idea - she's not gonna last a day."

"You have to confront a fear in order to conquer it, so I get that part," Bianca says, shaking her head. "But - she doesn't have any powers. I know they're going to make accommodations, but...Christ, she's only fifteen years old. Can you even imagine how hard it's gonna be for her? Being surrounded by it day after day, rubbing it in her face? Not to mention how her classmates will probably treat her…teenagers are still teenagers, even when they're magical. Maybe especially when they're magical."

"Yeah," Chris says, with a frustrated sigh. "I don't know. I can't talk to Pheebs about it - she doesn't wanna hear it. I think she still thinks her powers will just appear out of the blue one day, if they expose her to it enough times…"

Bianca snorts, making her opinion on that fairly clear.

"They mean well," Chris says.

"So does Wyatt," Bianca says archly. "But trying to reform every demon he comes across isn't going to make P.J. come home any more than sending Parker to Magic School is going to make her a witch. I know you agree with me, I know," Bianca says, holding up one hand. "I'm just venting. Feel free to ignore me."

"They just feel guilty is all," Chris says, shrugging. "Phoebe thinks it's her fault for some reason, that Parker isn't magical. Wyatt is convinced that he's the reason P.J. is staying away. As if you and I don't exist..."

"Well, blaming us would probably make more sense, but I'm not about to point that out," Bianca replies.

"Right," Chris says dryly.

"They don't see what it does to Parker, to have to grow up with all this grief about P.J. all the time," Bianca says hotly. "She already feels inadequate because of the magic thing. And then she feels guilty, because she feels like she has to step into the place that P.J. left, and she knows she can't - not magically speaking, anyway. And then when they go on and on about her...how tragic it is, how sad, yadda yadda…"

"It is tragic and sad, Bee."

"Sure, but - she made her choice," Bianca says stubbornly. The old resentment has never faded, between P.J. and Bianca. They'd tried, at first, of course - but the older P.J. got, the more resentful she became. Not just of Chris and Bianca's presence, but of her family's embrace of them, to the point where she just separated herself from all of them entirely. It was a terrible thing to watch - a situation that Chris knew was absolutely, one hundred percent their fault. But Bianca's constant, stern pragmatism has kept him away from self-recrimination, for the most part - and the Halliwells, to their credit, didn't allow him much leeway for guilt, either. "She married a Darklighter, Chris. Not just some warlock, or a reformed demon. A Darklighter."

The only evil magical being that is impossible of becoming good (mostly because of a technicality - because if they truly reformed, then they'd become Whitelighters again), P.J. had made her point loud and clear. And the last time they'd checked, the husband was not exactly interested in turning his orbs blue again anytime soon. "They want to keep the door open, it's none of our business."

"I know. But Parker…"

Chris squeezes Bianca's shoulder. "She has you in her corner," Chris says. "I know you're worried about overstepping with Phoebe, but - Parker knows we'd go to bat for her if we had to, and I think that alone helps."

"I just feel like," Bianca says, shaking her head, "I mean, I knew it'd be like this. Sort of family, sort of not. And Goddess bless your dope of a brother for loving us the way he does, but...Winnie deserves better than this. And Parker, too. And to think that it's because of us, that she'll have to deal with these same issues…and then Peyton and the boys, too..."

"Not forever," Chris reminds her. "It's so much better now than it was, right after. And it'll keep getting better, with time."

"Maybe that's why I'm afraid of the Wiccaning," Bianca confesses. "I'll probably worry about this for the rest of my life, though. I should just get used to it."

"They all love us," Chris says firmly. "You know they do. It's just not…"

"Easy for them to do so," Bianca finishes. "Yeah."

Chris kisses her forehead again, laying it softly against her temple. "It's easy for Parker," he says quietly. "She and Wyatt both find it so easy. I can't believe it, sometimes."

"The cheerful morons," Bianca says fondly. "Always in our kitchen."

"Right." Chris smiles. "They all have their moments - even Phoebe and Coop. It's not so terrible."

"Better than what we would've had otherwise," Bianca agrees. She tilts her head up for a proper kiss, lingering on his bottom lip. "And I love you," she whispers, murmuring the words against his cheek. "We made a beautiful little girl together, you and me. And we're gonna make more."

"How many?" Chris asks, laughing softly. "You planning something behind my back or what?"

"At least one more," Bianca pronounces, kissing him again with a loud smack. "Girls need siblings. And Winnie in particular - she'll need someone to watch out for."

Chris grins down at her, unable to contain it. "Nine months of an agonizing pregnancy," he says, "four months of which you spent on bedrest, then another five with a colicky, sick baby - "

"Ear infections don't make her sickly," Bianca says, pinching him. "She was still amazing, every scream was a goddamn gift and you know it."

"Literally, I think we've had, what - one month, altogether, where somebody wasn't either sick, or up all night, or bedridden?" Chris says with another laugh. "Then this stupid flu - I mean, I'm just saying, of course we can have another baby, but the fact that you're even thinking about it right now is just - "

"I'm just saying eventually, I'm not saying right this second," Bianca says, grinning back. "I can't help it. You've turned me soft, hotshot."

"You were always soft," Chris tosses back at her. "I just gave you a good excuse."

Bianca's smile turns a little shy, as it always does when he says something like that. After all these years, Chris is starting to see her finally believe it.

"I guess you did," she says. Her smile turns sad. "I miss Winnie, Chris."

"Drink that tea," Chris reminds her, pulling her back down to rest against his shoulder again. "Zazi works miracles."

"It's gonna taste like absolute shit, isn't it," Bianca mumbles, sounding resigned.

"Dragon shit, to be precise," Chris says.

"Typical," Bianca says.

When Chris finally emerges, once Bianca has succumbed to a fitful - but heavy - sleep, Wyatt and Winnie are gone. Chris feels a sharp pang, which he quickly squashes - of course he wouldn't interrupt, just so Chris could say goodbye. They're only going to be gone for a few hours - it's ridiculous to feel sad, or offended. If he tells himself that enough times, he thinks wryly - maybe he'll stop feeling like this every time Winnie is out of his sight for more than a few minutes.

Maybe.

Billie and Parker are still in the kitchen, talking quietly at the island. They fall quiet when he enters, but unlike the argument from before, it has the air of intimacy, not anger. "Hey," he says, taking the stool next to Parker. She smiles up at him, sweet as ever. "Am I interrupting? I just followed the smell of cake."

"Nah. It's almost done," Parker says. She frowns suddenly, looking concerned. "Did the spells give you a headache again?"

"How can you tell every single time? I swear I wasn't frowning or anything."

"It's her gift," Billie says quietly, watching fondly as Parker bounces around the kitchen, pulling out a little box of Ibuprofen, and opening the tea cabinet again to rifle through, looking for the basil tea he drinks for his migraines. "Don't have to be magical to be an empath, you know."

Parker shakes her head, blushing a little. "He just has a tell," she says, a little defensive. "Don't ask me what it is, though - there's no way I'm telling."

"Fair enough," Chris says, amused. He glances at Billie, who is using her bottled water to hide her own smile. "Bianca seems a bit better."

"Yeah, she was really upset about missing the moon water blessing," Parker says, turning on the kettle and returning to her seat. "What was it like? Bianca told me a little, but she seemed a little...hesitant to talk about it."

"Yeah, well, when Zazi blessed her, it was...a very different kind of ceremony," Chris says delicately.

Billie snorts. "Much more adult, I would imagine." Parker's eyes go wide, and her cheeks flush again.

Chris shoots Billie a dirty look. "It's just...like any other blessing," he says. "You can say whatever you want - each family has their own traditions. Zazi uses older ceremonial blessings that the high priestesses were using during the time that she was last on Earth. So it was a bit more old fashioned than the ones your mom used with Peyton, or Aunt Paige did with Henry, Jr. and Jamie."

"It's the moon water that's special, right?" Parker asks. "Only dragons can make it."

"Right." Chris smiles at her, as the kettle starts to whistle. "No, don't get up - I can make it. Thanks for starting it for me, kiddo."

"I wish I could meet her," Parker says, a little wistfully. Billie reaches out and pats her elbow. "Zazi, I mean."

"Maybe we could work something out," Chris says, coming back with his tea. The smell (extremely pungent - Piper gives him basil from her garden to make this tea, and it's always practically overwhelming) is already loosening up the pain, chasing the lingers of it away. "You couldn't see her in person, but maybe...a scrying mirror? Or some kind of summoning…"

"I have these dreams about her sometimes," Parker says tentatively. She looks over at Billie, a little uncertain. "I mean, I have dreams about everybody, but usually they just seem like dreams. But sometimes I dream about Zazi, and she looks sort of like how you describe her. And sometimes I wonder, I mean - it feels so real…"

Billie gives Chris a significant look. "It could be her," she says. "She's not just a dragon, kiddo - though that would be amazing enough on its own - she's a Seer, too. A real one. She can do a lot of things that we would say are impossible."

"What are the dreams about?" Chris asks curiously. Zazi's never mentioned anything.

Parker shrugs. "Whatever," she says. "We just talk, usually."

"About what?" asks Billie.

"Just stuff. All kinds of things, really." Parker looks a little bashful again, and Billie and Chris exchange another look - a silent agreement to drop it. "But why would she want to talk to me? I mean, of all of us kids…"

"Don't talk like that," Billie says sharply. "Why wouldn't she want to talk to you?" Parker ducks her head.

"I met Zazi a very long time ago," Chris says. "When I was in the past. The very first year I traveled to was 1994 - that was long before your mother and aunts got their powers, or even knew they were witches. Our great-grandmother was still alive, too." Chris takes a moment to remember, how overwhelming it was at first. Everything felt so...off. Even the colors looked different. "I couldn't reveal my presence to the Halliwells at all - I mostly went back there to acclimate myself first, before I tried to really do anything. I spent most of my time in the Underworld, and that's where I met Zazi. She knew right away who I was - obviously - and we became friends."

"That's crazy," Parker comments, her eyes wide. "I didn't know you went back that far - the way Mom talks about it, I thought you were just in 2003 and 2004, and that's it."

"Well, they don't know the whole story," Chris confesses, glancing over at Billie. She looks just as rapt with attention, her eyes sharp on Chris' face. "Anyway - that's not important right now. Dragons are...territorial, is my point. And even though she's immortal...thirty-three years is a long time to know somebody, even for a dragon. So she feels a certain...ownership, I guess, of me and the people I love."

Parker ducks her chin again. "That's pretty cool," she says quietly.

"She's a very powerful being of Good," Billie tells her. "If she's taken an interest in you, Park, that means she sees the same potential in you."

"'Potential?'" Parker repeats incredulously.

"Yes! Not everything is about magic," Billie chides. "You can do just as much good in the world as a mortal as you can as a witch. In the end, it's all just...details, anyway." She glances down at her own hands, weathered and spotted with pockmark scars, from years and years of dodgy potion making and reckless spellwork. Her shakes have gotten worse, Chris notices with some concern. They've been becoming more and more noticeable, since Winnie was born. He's not sure anyone else has noticed yet - but, he'd be willing to wager that Billie has. No wonder she agreed so quickly to moving in. "I'm telling you, kid. You gotta get that voice out of your head. You're not gonna get anywhere if you keep listening to it."

Parker bites her lip, rubbing her nose a little. Chris and Billie kindly let her gather herself, and when she brings her face back up, it looks smooth and unbothered. "Well," she says, "whatever you say. I don't really wanna talk about it right now, if that's okay."

"Of course it is," Chris says, taking another sip of tea. He offers her the mug too, and she accepts with a smile, tasting it hesitantly. "Do you want me to ask her? So you know for sure if it's her or not?"

Parker shrugs. "If you want," she says noncommittally. Billie raises an eyebrow at Chris, hiding another smile. "What did you mean though, when you said she's a 'real Seer'? As opposed to Mom, who...isn't?"

Sharp kid, Chris thinks ruefully. "No," he says hurriedly, "no, that's just - terminology. Billie was talking about the difference between Seers who give prophecy, and witches like your Mom who have the power of precognition, which is slightly different. They're both ways of seeing the future, they just manifest differently."

"There used to be hundreds of Seers," Billie says. "Thousands. But a lot of them were killed between the 70s and the early 2000s, when demon activity was the highest it had been in centuries. You know, one day," she says, turning her gaze to Chris, "they're going to write all this down in a history book, and they'll come up with some stupid name for all that. The Charmed Era, or...The Great Source Wars. Some bullshit subtitle thing."

"Dear God I hope not," Chris says dryly.

"Mom says it was you and Wyatt's births that ended it," Parker says. "That you were powerful enough to...bring the balance back, or something."

"I don't know about that," Chris says, rolling his eyes. "Don't tell her I said this, Park, but your mom is kind of a romantic." Parker giggles. "I think...well, you know, the Charmed Ones made a lot of headway taking out the hierarchies. The Triad, the Source, the Brotherhood. They vanquished a lot of upper-level demons in their day, and - you can't replenish your ranks with that kind of power overnight. Just by nature of who they were, they were attacked by a lot of big names. And of course, they were powerful enough to fight back and survive."

"Wow," Parker says, eyes wide.

"They'll come back eventually," Billie says darkly. "Even now, they're working on it. You don't worry about that, though," she says, squeezing Parker's elbow. "It's gonna take them awhile, yet. That's a problem for another generation."

"Was it the same in your original world?" Parker asks. Billie withdraws her hand, hiding it beneath the counter, but - Chris saw it trembling. He pretends not to notice. "Sorry - I know you guys don't really like to talk about it - "

"It's fine, you can ask us whatever you want," Chris says. He looks at Billie, who raises her eyebrows at him, as if to say, well, you said it. Now you gotta explain it. "It's - I dunno, Park, a lot of things were different. The basic history was the same, though."

"I was just thinking…" Parker frowns gently, a delicate turn of her mouth. Everything she does - her mannerisms, and the way she speaks - reminds Chris of a heroine from some Victorian novel. Everything is gracefully said, and gently done. As she's gotten older, he sees it becoming more of a personality trait, than a side effect of being a pretty, sweet little girl. "I don't think it bothers Wyatt much anymore - worrying about, well, you know." Parker looks at him worriedly, but he smiles to reassure her, and she smiles back. "But you know Wyatt - he never lets us see him worrying. He's got his laid back thing, and it's important to him that we don't call him on it."

Billie shakes her head ruefully. "Got that right," she mutters.

"You're the only one who can manage to get him that mad, Aunt Bills," Parker says, almost reproachfully. "Not even Uncle Leo can rile him up that much."

"Aunt Bills riles everybody up," Chris says fondly. Billie makes a face at him. "It is, unfortunately, in her nature."

Parker grins. "I just think that maybe if we talked about it more, everybody could stop worrying so much," she says. "Especially with like, Wyatt, and my mom. If we learned more about what your world was like, maybe they wouldn't be so afraid of it."

"I think, actually," Chris says slowly, "just because of...what it was, it would probably have the opposite effect, kiddo. But I get what you're trying to say."

"Maybe we all need to just talk more in general," Billie says, sounding kind of resentful of the idea. "It certainly would have solved a lot of our problems, Chris."

"Right," Chris replies, smiling at her ruefully. "Parker, honey, you are one of a kind. How long has it been since someone told you that?"

"Since the last time you said it," Parker says, grinning at him. Chris feels a physical pang, like a twinge in his heart, that he recognizes as the place where he feels the intense love you grow for your kids. It's the same place where his love for Winnie appeared - right next to Parker's spot, nestled in with Peyton, and wild little Henry, and the sweet, soft-hearted Jamie. He would include Wyatt in there, too, but - Wyatt lives somewhere else. Somewhere cerebral, and harder to maintain, and definitely much closer to Chris' migraines.

"I'll tell you what," Billie says, "you convince your cousin to go to therapy instead of chasing after a demon who only wants to cut him up and serve him for dinner, and we'll all go with him. Eh?" She raises her eyebrows at Chris. "Maybe Zazi can do it. Magical family counseling."

"He's not really gonna call her or summon her or anything," Parker assures them. "I'm pretty sure, anyway."

Chris sighs. "Well, if you keep goading him about it he will," he says to Billie, who huffs. "Anyway. I'll tell you one difference, Park - this one, you might find interesting." He smiles at her. "Did you know Wyatt was supposed to be a girl?"

"What?" Parker's mouth drops.

"When the sisters first got their powers," Chris says, "there was an...incident in which they traveled to the future, and Piper met her future family. Her husband - I think it was Leo she was married to still, right? In that timeline?"

Billie shrugs. "I only ever heard about it from Pheebs," she says. "Our Pheebs, I mean. She told me the story once, but she mostly talked about what happened to her, you know."

"Right," Chris says. "Well anyway, it doesn't matter - in that future, she had a young daughter named Melinda. And so for a long, long time, they all sort of just...took it for granted that Piper would be the first to have kids, and that her firstborn would be a girl."

"I had no idea," Parker says, shaking her head in slow awe. "What happened when he turned out to be a boy?"

"Oh, they didn't even flinch," Billie says, shaking her head. She only talks like this about the sisters in private, really - fondly. Chris always feels like he's witnessing a treasure when it happens. "They were basically like, 'well, whatever!' Their Grams was kind of rude about it, but you know your Aunt Piper - she's a mountain. Especially when someone tries to tell her how to be."

"Wow," Parker says. "Wait - is that why - Winnie's middle name?"

"Well, you know Melinda Halliwell," Chris says, with a shrug. "We didn't care so much about the 'P' name tradition as we did giving her a name that would protect her. And a name like Melinda, that carries family history, as well as something like that - the possibility of that girl that Piper met - it seemed appropriate."

Parker's eyes are still wide. "Do you think, if Aunt Piper and Uncle Leo had had another baby - she could have existed?"

"Who knows?" Chris shakes his head, reaching out to squeeze Parker's wrist. "You can't dwell on 'what if.' You can only move forward with what you have."

Parker swallows thickly, nodding. Her long, dark hair falls forward over her shoulders, partly obscuring her face.

"Hey," Billie says, leaning in a little. "I'm sorry we were fighting so much today. I know it bothers you."

"It's alright. I agree with you," Parker says, lifting her face up. She slides her hand down, so she and Chris are holding hands, and squeezes his fingers lightly. "Somebody has to yell at him, sometimes. He doesn't listen, otherwise - and nobody else does it."

Billie smiles crookedly. "I try," she says hesitantly.

"It's the same thing she did with me," Chris says. "She was always knocking sense into me, growing up."

"You needed it," Billie says.

"No comment," Chris says, squeezing Parker's hand one more time before he pulls away, getting up to put his empty tea mug away. "I'll tell you what, Parker - if you want to know more about the other timeline, I'll tell you. Unless I think you're not ready to hear it." He holds up a hand to stall her protest. "I know, I know, you're all grown up - but some of it's pretty rough. And more of it isn't just my story to tell."

"Okay," Parker says slowly. "As long as you agree to listen to me, if I think you should tell someone else. Wyatt, or Mom, or - whoever."

"Deal," Chris says. They shake on it. "You're right either way. Maybe if we'd talked more openly...acknowledged it more, instead of just pretending we were dealing with it, then…"

Parker bites her lip. Billie gives a subtle head shake, and Chris swallows the rest of the sentence.

"Anyway." Chris smiles down at his cousin. "One of a kind. Really."

"You keep saying that, and it's gonna go to my head," Parker teases.

"Yeah," Billie replies, clapping her on the shoulder. "That's the idea, kiddo."

In the attic of their house, where their Book of Shadows will someday live - once Chris and Bianca get it together to start theirs, that is - there's a large tapestry with the Halliwell family tree embroidered on it. It's enchanted to update with births and deaths on its own - a wedding gift from the Elders. On the night Bianca gave birth, right there in the attic, on a bed of lavender pillows and blankets washed in holy water - Chris saw his daughter's name appear, spindling into existence during one of the long, long moments of pain of the labor. He remembers being distracted just long enough to see it - the light of the magic catching his eye - and realizing what it was, experiencing the wonder of it briefly before turning back to Bianca, who was still mid-contraction, not even halfway through yet. But it was a gift of relief - after a difficult pregnancy, and a thousand different worries about complications during a home birth - reassurance, that it was going to happen. That their daughter would live, and have a name, and a life, and a history.

Chris can see himself as an old man in this attic, staring at the tapestry on dark nights. Watching for that little pen of light, penciling in a date of death for someone he loves who's far away. He knows he'll do it - knows he'll always end up here, when Winnie is older, out on dates or school trips, or whatever. Even when she's grown, he'll still watch for it. He can see his own death in this attic - keeling over from a heart attack, sitting in an armchair in front of the stupid thing, always watching, waiting for the worst. Even in the happiest ending possible, Chris still can see how disaster strikes.

Wedding gift, indeed. Of course the Elders managed to find something meaningful and foreboding at the same exact time. It's a unique talent they have, as a species.

Chris stares at it now, caught specifically by P.J.'s name. Prudence Joanna Halliwell, 14 January 2007 - (). He checks for a second date every night, despite himself. Phoebe has a similar family tree in her house, and he always spares a thought for her every night. He knows she's always doing the same exact thing.

"Hey, brother," Wyatt says, poking his head into the room. Chris winces, unable to help it. He still hasn't figured out a way to ask Wyatt to stop calling him that without hurting his feelings. 'Your evil alternate self used that to goad me' isn't exactly friendly conversation. But then again - to Parker's point - maybe that's been their problem, this whole time. "Sorry - didn't mean to startle you. Just wanted to make sure you knew we were back."

"Winnie?" Chris asks.

"Asleep," Wyatt says, joining him on the couch. He flops down dramatically, making the entire thing shudder. Chris winces again. "Man, you weren't wrong about the energy. She wore us all out, but the boys are just tornadoes all the time. Paige is pretty good with winding them down, though, and by the time we left she was already nodding off. I put her down in your room and, bam. Out."

"Thanks, Wy," Chris says gratefully. "I appreciate you helping."

"Not something you have to thank me for," Wyatt says with a shrug. "She's my niece - my best girl. You know I'm always down to hang out with her. I mean that - anytime."

"I do need to thank you for it," Chris says quietly. "Not because you're going out of your way - that's not what it means. But because I'm grateful, and I love you. And that's it."

Wyatt blinks at him stupidly for a second. "Holy shit," he says after a second. "Are you dying?"

Chris smiles faintly. "Not anytime soon, I hope."

"Okay, but that was a weird thing you just said. Are you alright?" Wyatt frowns. "Did something happen when I was gone?"

"I need to show you something." Chris reaches out and grips Wyatt's shoulder. "It's not gonna feel great. But I swear I just noticed it, Wyatt. I swear."

Wyatt's eyes are as wide as Parker's were, and he nods silently, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows.

Chris stands up slowly and walks over to the tapestry, hanging on the wall. Wyatt follows nervously, and Chris takes a deep breath before he turns around. "I usually come up here at least once a day," he explains, "but since Winnie was born, things have been so crazy...and then Bianca got sick, and…"

"Oh my God," Wyatt says faintly, and Chris knows then that he's seen it. "Oh my...God."

Underneath P.J.'s name on the tapestry, another one has appeared. A marriage line is conspicuously missing, which has implications that Chris will think more closely about later, but the new name is monumentous enough for now. Christopher Perry Halliwell II, 19 May 2033 - ().

"Does that," Wyatt says, gulping, "does that mean - "

"Yes," Chris says quietly, gripping Wyatt's shoulder again. "I just came up to read for awhile before I went to bed, and...I saw it."

Wyatt slumps beneath the grip of Chris' hand, his face pale. "That was almost four months ago," he says faintly. "May...oh my god, Chris. P.J. had a baby four months ago."

"It appears that way," Chris says, not without sympathy.

"She didn't tell us," Wyatt says, voice full of hurt. He rubs a hand across his face. "And she named him…"

Chris swallows uncomfortably, not really knowing what to say about that. Not really knowing how to feel about it, either.

"I gotta, I gotta call Mom and Dad, we have to - we have to start looking for her again, find out where she is." Wyatt doesn't sound particularly urgent, just - sad. And hurt, still. "Oh man...Aunt Pheebs..."

"She probably already knows," Chris says gently. "She's got one of these in her bedroom, remember? She hasn't said anything, because she probably...well."

Wyatt leans heavily against the wall, shaking his head in silent disbelief. His hair is falling out of its tie, in ragged streaks on the sides of his face. Chris had once thought that it would bother him - the long hair, like the other Wyatt used to have. And they do look more similar now than they ever did before - Wyatt has bulked up quite a bit since he took up kickboxing, and with the long hair, he looks like a more...authentic, healthy version of the nightmare vision Chris still sees sometimes in his dreams. But strangely enough, it doesn't really bother him - the similarities. There are enough differences now that it's easy to keep them separate.

"What do you think it means?" Wyatt asks quietly. "Aside from...I mean of course she named him after Chris. Of course," he finishes, mostly to himself. Chris squeezes his shoulder one more time, before finally letting him go.

"I don't know," he says, after a long beat. "Did you notice the birthday?"

"That's - wait, that's your birthday too, isn't? May 19th?" Wyatt blinks. "Holy shit."

"It could be a coincidence," Chris says. "Maybe that's why she named him that...she had to have noticed…" unless she planned it that way, is the silent conclusion that Chris isn't quite prepared to think about too closely yet.

"When is anything a coincidence in our family?" Wyatt asks rhetorically. "Jesus. I don't even know how to...process this."

"Come sit down," Chris says gently, and pulls him back over to the couch. Wyatt follows obediently, still shaking his head in stunned shock. They sit in silence for a long while, as Chris struggles to find something to say. There's nothing, really. Nothing that would really help. "Wy," he says after a long moment, "did Bianca ever tell you how we ended up on the name 'Winifred'?"

Wyatt frowns at him, looking a bit confused. "No?"

"Obviously Bianca wanted something old fashioned," Chris says. "And I didn't care, as long as it wasn't a 'P' name." He rolls his eyes. "We thought about naming her Phoebe...after my Pheebs. She would've really liked that." Chris smiles fondly, remembering. "She wouldn't have admitted it to me, but it would've really touched her. She wasn't as sentimental as your Pheebs, but she was...still an optimist at heart. Even after everything."

Wyatt is looking at him strangely, his mouth twisted. "You've never really...talked about her before," he says tentatively. He goes for a smile. "Gotta say, you have weird timing."

"I do have a point," Chris says, raising an eyebrow. Wyatt smiles, and shuts his mouth. "Anyway. We thought it would get confusing, and then of course...explaining that to Pheebs, that we were naming our kid after her but not really...it just seemed like a nightmare."

"She would have understood," Wyatt says earnestly.

Chris shakes his head. "No," he says, "she would have told us she understood, but privately - it would have hurt her. It always hurts her to be reminded of the other Phoebe - you've never seen it?" Wyatt shakes his head. "That's why she was so angry when she found out that Billie and my Pheebs were married, in my timeline. She gets angry when her feelings are hurt. It bothers her to think that she might be hurting us, by not being the Phoebe that we loved so much."

"Oh," Wyatt says quietly.

"So we didn't think it was a...kind idea," Chris says delicately. "And this family has such a hard on for legacy naming, anyone else we could have picked already was already covered, so to speak." Chris smirks. "So we decided to start something new. Winifred Halliwell."

"It's a good name," Wyatt says, still sounding confused.

"Now granted," Chris says, "there are far, far fewer possibilities for 'W' than for 'P'," he says. "Not that 'P' is the easiest either - but we figured we'd give it a shot. Hopefully our next one is a boy, because there are more boy names than girl names - we only found one or two that we really liked. 'Winona' was the other one, and...'Wren,' but Bianca was worried that that one was too out there - "

"Wait, wait," Wyatt says, holding up his hand, "are you saying...because of me?"

"Wyatt," Chris says kindly. "You once told me, sitting up in bed after having come inches away from your own death, that there was a place in your family for us. Of course it's because of you. Because of you, Wyatt," Chris says, emphasizing the difference. "Just you."

Wyatt closes his eyes, his mouth trembling.

"So you do what you have to do, to get her home," Chris continues, his voice low. "To get them home. We know what our life is here, and it's a good one. And for that matter - we know you." Chris reaches out and slides his hand around Wyatt's neck, squeezing tightly. Wyatt leans into him, his breathing labored. "Do what you have to do. We'll still be here. We're not going anywhere."

Wyatt is quiet for a long moment, and when he opens his eyes, they're still teary. "I love you," he says quietly. "Thank you."

"I love you, too," Chris says honestly, jostling him a little. "So go figure it out, huh? Stop wasting time."

Wyatt's smile dawns like a new day, slow and steady across his face. "Why are you always right?"

"Runs in the family," Chris says.

Winnie's awake, when Chris finally makes it to his bedroom. Just awake, quietly looking up at the mobile hanging above her crib. Not fussing, not crying. Just looking.

"Hey there, little walnut," Chris says, leaning down over her. She blinks up at him sleepily, eyes wide and curious. "What woke you up? Not bad dreams, I hope."

Winnie reaches up with one of her hands, her mouth twitching when Chris grabs it, jostling it playfully. Her fingers wrap tightly around his own, squeezing tight.

"It's been a long damn day, huh?" Chris says quietly. "Dragon blessings. New cousins. I'm exhausted. How about you?"

Winnie's mouth twitches again, and she tugs on his hand, her feet kicking a little. Her baby blanket has fallen off, bunched up below her feet. Chris tugs it up with his free hand, tucking it around her tightly. If he keeps his voice pitched the right way, and stops her from getting too wound up, then she'll fall asleep again. She's been getting better and better about it, the last month or so.

"I know it seems like a lot to live up to," Chris whispers, still holding her little hand. "It is a lot. But you don't have to feel drowned by it. It just is what it is. You figure it out eventually, and if you mess up...well, we all mess it up. But that's okay. The mess is just part of it."

She looks so much like Bianca. Chris notices it most in the quiet moments - her eyes, her skin tone, and the shape of her face. He imagines her getting older...the way she'll grow into it. Maybe she'll look more like him later on, but he hopes not. He hopes she always reminds him of Bianca. His two favorite people - his happy endings.

"I love you," he tells her, watching in triumph as her eyes fall gently closed, lulled back to sleep by his voice. "I'm so glad you're here."

Her fingers doesn't loosen their hold, even as she falls asleep. Chris leans over her crib for a long time, not daring to move. Just listening to her breathe, his finger still caught in the grip of her hand.

"Yeah," Chris murmurs, finally breaking the connection. Winnie fusses a little, flailing her little fists, but she doesn't fully awaken. As he falls into bed, he reaches out instinctively for Bianca, who of course is still shut up in her sick room. Shaking his head at himself, he finally lets his eyes close, knowing with a comforting certainty what he'll see when he wakes up: a life he's made, that he's thankful to have. It's a nice feeling.

It is what it is. And Chris is, as always, ready for it.

thank you for all your comments and support as I speedwalked my way through this. This was a self-indulgent thing I started on a whim, and I wasn't expecting it to get this long, but apparently I had a lot to say. Hopefully you enjoyed it as much as I did. Happy holidays!