The boy with the Jaded eyes
Authors note: Ok guys I have decided to finish the whole of The enemy within before I post anymore chapters because I'm posting irregularly and that's not fair on any of you readers. I'm almost there I promise, but while I need a break from it I'm going to write this little piece to keep my creative juices flowing. Hope you enjoy, and yeah Charmed doesn't belong to me
Piper Halliwell watched her youngest son with fascination. She had known him twenty-three years yet still she couldn't figure him out. His brother was so easy to read, Wyatt had always worn his heart on his sleeve. Every emotion he felt written upon his face like the pages of a storybook, but Chris however was an enigma.
The man he had become was a far cry from the man he once was all those years ago when he bravely came back to warn them of Wyatt's turning. The headstrong boy once full of attitude was just a distant memory and this quiet timid kid stood in his place.
Even as a child Christopher had always held his cards close to his chest, never letting on what was wrong when something so clearly was. Whenever Piper showed him any affection she felt how closed off he was. Every little boy wants to be cuddled by mommy right? Apparently not! It broke Piper's heart to think her little boy was so alone in this little world he had created for himself. Barely interacting with those around him. "Yes mommy, No mommy" Answering only when spoken too. That wasn't healthy.
She was sure that she had never seen a smile reach his lips let alone his beautiful green eyes. Eyes that for as long as she could remember had looked haunted. Terrified of something he was hiding from them all. "You know mommy loves you don't you baby?" she had asked him on many occasions. Yet his reply would always be that of a quick nod to confirm yes before returning to whatever he was doing at the time. Piper needed more; she needed to know he loved her too. Not once had he ever told her so. Never asked her for a kiss or a cuddle. He never wanted anyone's help.
They had all tried to reach him. Leo had been the most determined, even convincing Piper that sending him to a psychologist was a good idea. So there he sat aged five, silent in front of Doctor Hopkins, answering whenever spoken to, not really taking any notice of what was going on around him. The Doctor got nowhere and the sessions came to an abrupt end.
Then aged nine Chris had almost died in a fire at the manor. The fire had started during a family day out. Chris had wondered off from the rest of the group and after searching for almost an hour Piper and Paige orbed back to the manor in the hope he had returned there. What they were greeted with was a house full of smoke and an attic that was alight. The sight that met the older Halliwell was one of pure horror and confusion. Her little boy was curled up in a ball on the middle of the attic floor surrounded by violent flames, yet she had never seen him look so tranquil. He hadn't even attempted to orb to safety, he had been waiting for the flames to consume him. So once again it was back to the psychologist's office for another wasted six months of therapy that amounted to nothing.
At fourteen Chris had barricaded himself in his room for almost a week. He placed an anti orbing spell upon his bedroom stopping anyone from entering. Wyatt had been all for kicking the door off its hinges, yet Phoebe had persuaded them to hold back. She believed talking to him was the best way to resolve things. The days went by and as Phoebe talked to an unresponsive door, Leo called the doctor and Piper consulted magic. On the Fifth day after many spells, potions, rational talking and attempts to kick down this magically protected door the magic was broken. And as the door came off it's frame as Wyatt shouldered it, his heart sank. Lying on the floor unconscious was his baby brother. They hadn't broken the spell. The spell had broken Chris!
Spending nearly a week trying to hold up a barrier to his family had become all too much. The limited space in his room, the lack of food and water, the short supply of fresh air had all taken its toll on the young Halliwell and his body and mind had given up the fight.
A stay in hospital and another trip to the psychologist had diagnosed a personality disorder and a long-term course of anti-depressants. Yet nothing seemed to help and as the years rolled on Piper could see her son shrinking further and further away from those around him.
Chris Halliwell had a secret! One he had held onto all his life. He couldn't remember a time when this secret hadn't been with him. Yet he had never told another living soul. Chris was haunted!
For as long as he could remember his mind had been playing tricks on him. Things would appear so real yet so far from the truth. He had these memories that felt like someone else's yet at the same time they belonged to him.
Mommy and Daddy didn't have time for him, they were too busy with Wyatt. Wyatt was special and he was just Chris. So he protected his heart by shutting them out. But there were times when Mommy would try to hug him or tell him she loved him yet his head would produce these images of her telling him he wasn't good enough and he'd protect himself once again.
Why else would they make him go and see stupid Doctor Hopkins. He asked him stupid questions and made him draw stupid pictures. The pictures were always the same, he drew himself alone,.
Sometimes the only way to feel alive is to feel death lurking upon your shoulder. Chris remembered the day he felt death whispering in his ear. It was almost enchanting, drawing him in, luring him away. It was a regular day like any other and the family was making him join in on a day out. He found it so conflicting that here they were laughing and joking when all he could remember was anger and resentment. His father yelling at him in his head, his mother brushing him away, not having the time. The confusion of these conflicting thoughts had made Christopher numb. He pushed everyone and everything aside so he would not have to feel the pain his thoughts would cause. Being numb stood in its place and he hated it. How could you be alive if you were numb.
Thoughts flashed in his mind as he remembered that day so vividly. He had snuck away from the rest of the group and orbed home. As he reappeared on the attic floor, it had come to him. All he wanted was to feel warm. For as long as he could remember everything had been cold. Barely above a whisper he chanted the words that brought the fire. Slowly the dull smoke changed into a warm circle around him, with small flames covering the floor in a perfect circle. The adrenaline pumping its way through his body had kicked in and at last he felt something. He finally felt alive, better than that he felt content. Curling up into a ball he closed his eyes and quickly drifted off to sleep, seemingly oblivious to the danger around him.
The contentment didn't last long though. She pulled him from it! She had broken the spell and the flames disappeared. She screamed, she cried, she shook him repeatedly as if to knock some sense into him. It didn't work, he just felt numb again.
Numb and facing another several months in therapy.
For most teenagers turning fourteen would be a joyous occasion. Yet for Christopher it was one filled with terror. He was officially going mad! No not mad! Evil! He was evil, it was as simple as that. He must be to have such thoughts spinning round his mind. It dripped through his head like poison, he closed his eyes tightly hoping that he could shut out what he was thinking, but he could still see it, the thoughts souring his mind were still there. Just as she was! He could picture her in fine detail, lying there covered in blood, cold and lifeless before him. It was then he finally cracked!
He barricaded the door both physically and magically. Put an anti-orbing spell on the room and shut out the world. His family's frustrated cries and pleas did nothing to pull him back from the place he had gone.
Strength and willpower will only go so far, and a after a week of shutting himself off from everything had weakened both Chris' body and mind. With one last tired breath Chris faltered and collapsed with exhaustion. As he drifted into unconsciousness he could hear his mother's cries. She wasn't dead afterall
It had been nine years since that episode. The anti-depressants had been taking the edge off for as long as he could remember but he knew that now he had no choice but to open up and talk to his parents. Today was his Twenty third birthday. He had woken this morning to the image of himself dying, his father beside him, stroking his hair as he disappeared into nothingness.
He took the stairs slowly as he made his way down to the kitchen where his mother and father sat eating breakfast. He swallowed slowly plucking up the courage to face what had been haunting him all these years.
"Mom, Dad," he began drawing their attention "We need to talk!"