Summary: When everyone loves a 22-year-old version of you that doesn't even exist anymore, it can try the patience of the born and bred Chris Halliwell of the changed future. At his wits end, he casts a spell that might help him get to know the not-so-distant traveller that his family admires so, in some vain hope of trying to find in himself what they loved so much in his future.

But, as there wouldn't be a story to tell if it didn't, it went wrong. Please R&R. :)

Chapter One: Stirring

"No, Chris, come on – you know Aunt Paige didn't mean anything by it," Wyatt persisted as he followed his brother down the hall to his bedroom. Chris tried not to let himself get more worked up than he already was; he would never be granted the dramatic storm-out he'd been vying for if Wyatt insisted on following him every time. It had always been clear which one of the brothers had inherited more of the Whitelighter pacifism from their father, and he'd overheard his mother on numerous occasions wishing he didn't have the same short temper that she did. Unfortunately for him, he couldn't exactly help his genetics.

Pointing at the door he did slam it telekinetically in Wyatt's face, but it took only seconds for him to hear the familiar jingle of his brother orbing in. "Mum hates orbing around the house," he snapped, just wanting something to dig at him for.

Wyatt only cocked a hand on his hip and gave him a pointed look. "How long are you going to keep this up? I'm beginning to think you've forgotten how to exit a room normally."

Chris rolled his eyes. "I don't want to talk about it," he let himself fall back onto his bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The last he wanted to do was to be forced into a 'deep and meaningful' conversation with his elder brother, especially since it was the one who did no wrong. Couldn't the Powers that Be allow him just two minutes in which he could dislike Wyatt freely because he wasn't the good guy?

"Well you're going to have to sometime. Look, this is the fourth time this has happened this week, and I'm pretty sure I've worked out the common factor. You should –" The Witchlighter found himself cut off by a pillow hitting him in the face.

"That definitely wasn't an invitation for you to start talking about it," came Chris' moody response.

Wyatt pressed his lips together in mild irritation. He sighed, in a way that made him look just like their father, and Chris resented that – he still hadn't quite forgiven Leo for his offhand comment yesterday. Not that that was any of his brother's business either. Wyatt toyed with the pillow and scratched the back of his neck, wondering if he really should just let Chris be to cool off for a little while, but his instincts were telling him otherwise. If his suspicions were correct, the more time Chris spent bottling up his feelings the longer the problem would drag on for, and he had a feeling it wouldn't just go away; if anything, the closer Chris got to 22 the worse it would get.

"You can't keep shutting yourself away whenever anyone mentions him," he added hesitantly.

Chris bolted upright, fury evident on his features. "You think you know what the problem is? Well why don't you go downstairs and tell them the problem, then maybe they'll get it." Wyatt could sense a hint when there was one, and he opened his mouth to shoot out a comeback but Chris beat him to it. "Get out, Wyatt."

After a moment's deliberation, the Witchlighter sighed, dropping the pillow on the edge of the bed. Chris stared resolutely at the ceiling, more than ready to orb out if his brother refused to comply. He needn't have worried, as Wyatt simply exited the room and closed the door with a soft snap. Silence, for a few moments before Chris groaned in frustration. "Great. Now I have a guilty conscience." Irritated, he flung out an arm and a few picture frames dropped from the wall. There was only one that remained, a blurred shot of himself holding up a hand to try and block the camera. The picture that, bizarre as its nature seemed, used to bring him comfort was now the source of all of his resentment. "And I don't need you judging me either, thank you very much." He waved his hand, and the frame disappeared in a swirl of blue and white lights.

Piper liked to do household chores. Phoebe never understood it, Paige simply dismissed it, and Leo did his very best to understand but after however many years they'd been together fighting demons and wiping blood off their clothes, still believed it was a miracle that Piper still took some kind of minute pleasure out of turning the washing machine on each morning. What Piper liked about the dull hum of the electronic washer was not the habit it had of irritating her if she spent too much time in the kitchen, but instead how enticingly normal it was. No magic, no cleaning spells, no enchantments – just electricity and a lot of water. After all she'd been through, she couldn't be more glad that after everything she was still entitled to a singular electrical appliance that worked. Well, most of the time anyway.

"So how long is this going to take? Only I've got three pubescent children who will run out of clothes unless I can get a load on soon," Piper shook her head as she placed the laundry basket on the kitchen counter. "And I'm afraid we aren't those kinds of witches."

Leo held back a smile from where he sat, front half in the washing machine, spanner in hand as he tried to figure out the reason the washer wasn't, well, washing. "I couldn't say for sure – I mean, there doesn't seem to be a problem. Or not an easily identifiable one, anyway. It should be working."

Piper raised an eyebrow from where she stood, and her husband felt like he could already read the 'well-it's-not' on her expression without him even needing to see her. "Come on Leo, you used to fix this sort of thing all the time. What am I paying you for?" She teased.

Leo poked his head out from underneath the washer and frowned in thought. "Endless love and devotion?"

Piper shook her head. "Nice try," she leaned down and rewarded him with a brief kiss for effort. "Fix it, please. I'm going to go check on Chris."

Leo's voice became muffled again as he moved back into the washing machine. "He's in his room," he called out as she was leaving the room.

"When did you regain the ability to sense?" She knew he hadn't really, but she was in a mood for banter.

Leo grinned. "That wasn't a Whitelighter sense, that was a father sense. Word on the street is he had another argument with Paige."

Piper sighed and scratched her neck, at a loss of what to do. "Another one?"

"Actually it was Phoebe yesterday, so says Wyatt. I'm starting to wonder if there might be something—ow!" There was a familiar clatter of metal on metal and a few muttered choice words coming from Leo as he withdrew from the appliance.

Piper raised an eyebrow. "I thought angels weren't allowed to swear?"

"Very funny." Leo straightened up and brushed the dust from the floor off his shirt, rubbing his head and feeling a bump beginning to grow there already. "But about Chris—"

"It's perfectly normal for a seventeen-year-old to feel a little bit anti-establishment, Leo. There's nothing to worry about," she gave him a pointed look, but he didn't look too reassured. Biting back what he wanted to retort, he instead started rummaging through the freezer to try and find an ice pack.

Finding one, he clamped it to the back of his head and winced slightly at the pain – he would make a comment about missing his instant healing power, but he'd gotten over that years ago and it wasn't as if he'd be able to heal himself. "But we never had this kind of problem from Wyatt," he added, worry lacing itself into his tone.

"Wyatt is nearly nineteen and far too much like you to argue with anyone about anything," Piper rolled her eyes, folding a few of the unwashed clothes before putting them back in the basket.

"Does that mean Chris is too much like you to listen to a word I say?" Leo challenged innocently, and Piper shot him a good-natured glare.

"You. Washer. Now. I'm going on Mum duty."

She was a little bit apprehensive of heading into Chris' room straight away (what kind of child loves their Mum coming into their rooms unannounced at the age of seventeen?) and stopped in her room first, steeling herself up for another temperamental argument. It reminded her of Big Chris – the old Chris, that is, the one from the distant future. The similarities between him and Baby Chris were becoming more prominent every day, including, regrettably, the constant arguments. On top of Big Chris' attitude, there were teenage hormones and heightened emotions to consider, and it was a wonder his telekinesis hadn't succeeded in throwing either his father or a Charmed One out of the manor altogether by now. Just as she was about to head down the hall, she noticed something on her bed that hadn't been there before. A simple photo frame, and she paused to pick it up and examine it for a moment.

What it was brought a smile to her face – her son, Chris, but aged 22. That would have seemed impossible to anyone who knew Chris as the seventeen-year-old he was, but this was of course a blurred image of the twenty-two-year-old she and her sisters had gotten to know and grown to love in his stint of coming back from the future to save Wyatt. Big Chris had never been keen on photos, but the girls couldn't resist when they found one of Prue's old cameras packed away in the attic and went on a photo taking spree. His pose was defensive, once he realised what they were holding and was holding up his hand in an attempt to stop it from being taken, which only added to his surprised expression and making it funnier.

"You're not going to keep that, are you?" Chris asked, flabbergasted. Paige raised a challenging eyebrow and pursed her lips.

"I don't see why not. You look cute!" Aside from being called 'cute', he didn't exactly like the idea of them having a photo like that.

He gave her an unamused glance. "What if someone finds that in ten years and asks why you have a picture of me at that age already? Future consequences Paige, you've got to keep thinking about them."

She flapped a dismissive hand. "Consequences shmences, I'll have myself a picture of my adorable nephew if I want one, thank you very much. You need to lighten up." She winked at him as she moved past him out of the room, tapping him on the cheek as she went.

Exasperatedly, Chris turned back to Piper and Phoebe. "Mum, you can't let her do this."

"I think somebody's a little camera shy," Phoebe cooed as she too left the room after giving Chris a reassuring nudge.

"Mum!" He protested.

Piper shrugged. "I just don't see what the problem is," she offered him a sympathetic glance. "If it's any comfort, I'll make sure she never shows it to Leo." Making to go after her sisters, she knew Chris would follow.

"That's not the problem."

"Or future girlfriends?"

"That's not the problem either."

It brought a nostalgic smile at the old memories, but that didn't solve the puzzle of how it even got to her room. As far as she was aware, Chris usually kept it hanging up in his room. It had been a bit of a struggle trying to bring Chris round to the idea that they had met a future version of him before he had even been born, but as a child he always seemed to enjoy hearing about the various ways in which he'd saved the sisters and Wyatt as a baby. He knew that it had never been him – it had been Big Chris, obviously – but he used to take it as a small one-up on his brother, and Piper and Leo had never regretted telling him as it helped to erase some of his inferiority complex with the Twice-Blessed Child.

"Chris?" Piper offered through the door, the frame in hand as she knocked. She received an incomprehensible grunt from the inside she identified to be her second son. Poking her head around the door she saw him studying something in front of him, which she recognised instantly as being the yellowed pages of the Book of Shadows. "You shouldn't take that out of the attic you know." She kept the reprimand light, because he clearly wasn't in the mood to be yelled at.

He gave her a bored look, before turning the page again. "I'm doing research."

"Trying to find a vanquishing potion for Aunt Paige?" She smiled and tilted her head as she sat down on the edge of the bed, knowing she was goading him and knowing his attitude would likely get him irritated with her in no time.

He closed the book with an audible thump. "Wyatt is such a rat," he groaned. "But no. It's for class, actually. Basic study of the Underworld." Piper didn't look impressed and Chris threw up his hands exasperatedly. "Ask Dad if you don't believe me!"

"Oh no, I believe you," Piper amended. "But it was open on the Past Life Spell." The spell that had once transported Phoebe back into the body of her past self. Caught, Chris said nothing and merely swallowed thickly. Tenderly, Piper placed the photo frame down onto the bed and gave Chris a soft smile. "You won't find him that way."

He gave one look at the photo and wished he'd orbed it into the middle of a volcano instead of down the hall. "I don't want to find him," Chris snapped, getting up from the bed and picking up the Book of Shadows. "I'm going to put the Book back."

"Chris –" Piper began, but he was already out of the room. Getting up to follow him, she tried not to let her irritation show through. He's a teenager, she told herself, this is normal. "Chris, don't walk away from me. We need to talk about this!"

He shot her a look over his shoulder as he began to climb the stairs to the attic. "What's there to talk about?"

Taken aback, Piper followed him. "Well I don't know, you tell me! There's clearly something going on or you wouldn't be blowing up at your family every time we just try to talk to you."

"Just leave me alone Mum, I'm not in the mood." Biting back a retort, she slowed her pace up the stairs so he could get further ahead – she was never really in the mood, she was tempted to add, but that didn't mean she couldn't be worried. Only minutes earlier she'd been assuring Leo that nothing was wrong, and that everything was completely normal but even now she felt worry begin to constrict her chest and tie knots in her stomach. There was a time when Chris would tell her anything and everything in a heartbeat, and yet he was slipping away from her right in front of her eyes. Arguing with him never helped, and it sometimes ended up with a blown up vase back in her bedroom before Leo could calm her down. And the worst of it was that it wasn't getting better, either. The older he got and the more he should be growing out of it, the more impalpable the arguments became.

She reached the attic slowly and leaned against the doorframe, folding her arms as she watched him return the book to its stand, and he opened it absently. There was something troubling him, and she was concerned. Wasn't she entitled to that? "Please, Chris. I don't want to fight you. Just talk to me."

He looked up at her, and she could see the cogs visibly whirring behind his eyes, and after a moment's deliberation cleared his throat. "Fine," he muttered, turning back to the Book and turning the pages aimlessly. "Aunt Paige – Aunt Paige told me my hair looked better when it was long."

The admission threw her off-guard, and she stared at him bemusedly. "And the problem with that is?"

Chris rolled his eyes. "The problem is I've never had my hair long. Or with a centre parting as she recommended, so the use of the past tense was a little out." It had always been short, brown and reasonably spiky. Piper still seemed to fail to understand, so he elaborated. "She was obviously thinking about Future Chris. Big Chris. He probably had his hair long at some point and that's how she knows how I look with my hair like that."

"I'm not sure I understand," Piper pushed away from the doorframe and stepped towards him, boots clacking on the creaky floorboards of the attic. Chris still refused to meet her gaze.

"I just feel like you all know everything about me before I get the chance to know it myself. Aunt Paige, Aunt Phoebe – even you and Dad sometimes."

Piper blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Chris threw up his hands in frustration. "It means that nothing is new for you! You knew exactly what I was going to be like before I was even born. You've met a twenty-two-year-old version of me, and that's hardly fair! With Wyatt everything was new, everything is a surprise, but with me you can second guess what I'm going to do before even I know it."

Piper folded her arms, at a momentary loss for words – she'd dealt with sibling rivalry before, but this seemed to be a whole new kettle of fish. "It's called being a mother," she folded her arms. "I do happen to have seventeen years worth of memories of you, and I'd like to think that gives me a little insight into your personality."

"No," Chris corrected. "You've had eighteen years worth of memories of me, and that's just the point."

"I don't understand what you're trying to say, Chris. What difference does it make? So what if we met a version of you a long time ago? We've met versions of Wyatt from the future too." She remembered the whole imaginary friend fiasco back when Wyatt and Chris were both babies.

Chris shook his head resolutely. "But that's different, because you don't prefer that Wyatt to this one." Finally seemingly having hit the root of the problem Piper opened her mouth to shoot him down before the whole situation escalated any further, but at that point Leo chose to walk in the door with a concerned frown.

"What's going on?" He asked, looking between the two. "I heard raised voices."

Chris groaned. "Oh, great. Now Dad's here too. Why don't we just invite the whole Future-Chris-Preferring family and be done with it?"

"Chris this is ridiculous!" Piper cried in exasperation. "We don't prefer him to you, how can we? You're the same person!"

He was unperturbed and ignored her interruption. "And every day when I become more and more like him you're all reminded of the brave man who came back to save the future, and of how much you miss him – just the other day Aunt Phoebe told me I looked 'so much like Chris'. I am Chris. How is that supposed to make me feel?" He stalked away from the Book's stand and over to the window, folding his arms. "You love how similar I am to him, and I only serve as a reminder of how much you all miss him."

Leo was indignant – not only was Chris seemingly trying to compare himself to himself, but he was also blaming them for something they couldn't help. But at the same time, he could almost see what his son was trying to get at; if it weren't for Future Chris, none of this happy life they led together would have even been possible, and yes, he did still miss the twenty-two-year-old on occasion, but he already had Chris. Not to mention the fact that he'd known this one for seventeen years, and had grown to love him and care for him rather than having paternal feelings thrust upon him as they had on the day he found out about Piper's pregnancy.

"That's not true," he settled for saying – Chris was taking all of this the wrong way.

On realising that Leo was indeed present, his son rounded then on him and pointed an accusing finger at him. "You missed nearly the whole first year of my life because you were too busy being heartbroken and lost at the death of a version of me that didn't even exist anymore."

Leo narrowed his eyes. "That's not fair."

"This whole situation isn't fair!" Chris snapped, realising his voice was rising but not even caring. "I shouldn't be growing up with you all throwing these expectations at me! Every minute I get closer and closer to becoming his age, and I feel like the clock is ticking for me to decide whether I'm going to become him like you all want, or somebody completely different."

Piper intervened. "We don't want you to be him, Chris. He had a different life to you – we love you both for who you are and what circumstance has made you to be! It doesn't matter if you become like him or not."

Chris shook his head with a bitter laugh. "But he's a hero. And what am I? Your neurotic and irritating son who's a colossal pain in the ass, fights with his siblings constantly and makes your lives Hell. And yet, even while you tried to make his life Hell, he saved your lives more times than you can count. He vanquished demons, protected you and preserved Wyatt's future. Mother of God, he even saved your marriage. How am I supposed to compare to that?"

"You don't need to!" Leo protested, but the whole back-and-forthing between the idea of two Chris' was starting to make his brain hurt. "You're both capable of the same kind of good he did, and we're just thankful you've never needed to do all that for us."

"If Future Chris grew up with a life like yours, do you think he would have needed to go back in time and change the past? He wanted to protect a family that was broken. If you'd lived his life, I have the utmost confidence that you would have done all the same things as he did." Piper added sincerely, trying to console him.

Chris' jaw was tight. He didn't quite know how to respond to this; they were right, of course they were right, but if they were then why didn't he feel better? Why couldn't he eradicate the feeling of complete insecurity that had bound itself to the deepest contours of his heart, and stop the burning desire to try and compete with himself? To try and earn the favour of the parents over a future version that had sacrificed his life to save theirs. How could they possibly prefer him when their other son had been through so much worse, and triumphed over so much more. Without him, half of the Halliwells would be dead right now – it was no competition. Chris knew who he would prefer.

"Sure," he muttered, his voice devoid of emotion. "Whatever you say." Before Piper and Leo could interject further he was already orbing out, dissipating into the balls of light and with the familiar jingle Piper had come to associate with Leo back in the days when he had powers.

The two parents were silent for a moment, Piper reaching out a hand to rest on the stand holding the book, trying to ground herself. "What – what just happened?" She turned to her husband with a look of pure confusion, but Leo couldn't offer her any real answer.

"Chris being a little bit anti-establishment?"

Chris materialised in an apartment block corridor, having sensed beforehand to make sure that there weren't any unsuspecting mortals who weren't quite prepared to watch a Witchlighter orbing in. To his chagrin he was a little off, not quite appearing in front of the door he was aiming for, but when he reached it he rapped on it loudly with his knuckle. He shoved his hands in his pockets before changing his mind and folding his arms, before changing his mind again and running a hand through his hair to try and make sure he looked presentable. The door opened and he abruptly settled for having his hands at his sides as he took in who was behind it.

"Oh, Chris," the woman seemed surprised to see him. "Are you here to see Bianca?"

He nodded, trying to sneak in a look past her into the flat. "Uh, yeah. Is she in?"

Lynn smiled, and turned back into the house. "Bianca!" She called. "Door for you. Do you want to come in?" She asked him.

"Oh no, that's fine. Thanks." He settled for having his hands in his pockets and trying to look as causal as possible when the familiar brown-haired witch approached the door. Confusion overcame her, and she stepped towards the doorway a little apprehensively.

"Chris," she greeted hesitantly, before brushing some of her hair out of her eyes. "I thought your parents said you couldn't see me anymore."

He shrugged. "My parents say a lot of things," it was only then that he took in her appearance –a tight leather suit stretching from her neck to her thick black boots. She looked like something out of a superhero flick. "What are you wearing?"

She was unperturbed. "What are you wearing?"

Despite himself, Chris looked down at his simple jacket and trousers. "Clothes," she didn't seem keen on elaborating any further and Chris' mouth morphed into a challenging grin. "Your turn."

The corner of Bianca's mouth perked upwards, and her eyes sparkled. "What do you want, Chris?"

Adopting a more serious expression, he looked around her to make sure her mother was nowhere to be seen. "I need your help." Bianca raised an eyebrow in question, waiting for him to continue. "I'm on a bit of a learning curve," he pulled out the carefully folded piece of parchment he'd subtly torn from the book, holding it up and revealing the Past Life Spell. "About myself."

Bianca eyed the parchment before turning back to the witch who was holding it with the ghost of a smile. "You better come in then, Whitelighter." Smiling gratefully, Chris stepped inside, and the assassin witch closed the door behind him with a foreboding click.

I realise that Bianca is actually a few years older than Chris because of little-Bianca in Chris-Crossed, but for the purpose of this story she's going to be the same age as him – seventeen. Besides that teensy bit of creative license, this story's going to try and stay as canon as possible. So Leo has no powers but is Headmaster of Magic School, yada yada. Phoebe and Paige will be making appearances, as will Wyatt and Chris' little sister Melinda. Hope you liked the first chapter, I'll see if you guys are interested in more! R&R :)

~MyWhitelighter