Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed or any of it's characters.

Summary: I'm only 14 years old and yet I'm already losing one of the people I thought would be around forever. One-shot with slight twist at the end. From Chris's POV. Please read and review.

A/N Well hello there! You're maybe wondering why I've posted this when I've said that all stories excluding MBML are on hiatus but this is just a little one-shot that popped into my head! So I can't be murdered for a one-shot can I?...I can't right? -looks around nervously- Anway, let's get on with it then:-P


All there is, is emptiness.

A dark black hole swirling in my very being. I feel no pain or anger. Just a numbness that spreads through me until I feel nothing at all. I'm staring glassy eyed at the off white wall in front of me, listening to the small clock ticking above us.

tick, tick, tick

It's as easily showing us how little time we have left to say goodbye as it is telling the time. But no-one moves. No-one wants to say goodbye so we sit here in denial, telling ourselves we have plenty of time to say what we want to say before death comes to claim yet another of our family.

My older brother is sitting beside me. I feel envious of him as I feel him crying silently, his shoulders shaking slightly. I wish I could cry.

I haven't cried once since we found that it wasn't just a little bug that was causing the pain, the weakness.

It's weird. When we were told by the doctor it was actually a disease, a disease that wouldn't take long to prove fatal, I didn't feel anything. No sadness, no pain, no anger. It was then that the numbness came so as everyone else broke down I just sat there, not feeling anything at all.

Is there something wrong with me?

I feel like a robot. Not capable of showing any emotion. My aunt Phoebe noticed a couple of months back. She'd sat me down and tried to talk and coax me out of the emotionless shell I'd enclosed myself in. But I hadn't let her and she'd left my room feeling defeated. I regret that now. She could have helped.

The door leading into the hospital room opens and the doctor that has been with us since the disease was revealed, steps into the corridor.

"It's not long now." she says quietly.

Wyatt sits up in his plastic chair, taking his hands away from his blotched face. The tears have stopped now. I feel him look at me but I can't bear to look back. I can't bear to see the pain and sadness that I know is going to be evident in his eyes. But maybe the bigger reason is that I don't want him to see the pain and sadness that I know will be in mine.

We have to go first. They think they're doing us a favour, giving us more time than them to say goodbye to our dying parent. But it's harder this way. I'd rather go last so that I didn't have to be in that room for long. It's not like I don't love the person in that room, I just can't stand to see that this disease has won.

As we stand up, fear suddenly grips me. I see the bed beyond the open door and I can hear the sound of the heart monitor beeping. The monitor will be silent soon. I don't want to go in. I can't stand to say goodbye.

Wyatt feels my fear. He looks at me again but again I don't look back. I just look at the room fearfully, dreading what has to come.

My arms are by my sides, my hands dangling limply. I jump slightly as I feel my right hand being taken hold of and I look down to see my hand in Wyatt's. I look up at him for the first time and he gives me a tearful but reassuring smile. I try to smile back but I can only manage to turn my mouth up at the corners. He knows I tried though and he gives my hand a squeeze before letting go as we walk into the room together.

The door is closed behind us and all there is is the sound of the beeping heart monitor. We both stand there tensely, averting our eyes from the hospital bed. A minute passes and I hear Wyatt swallow. He slowly walks over to the bed and I reluctantly trail after him.

We stand at either side of the bed and we force ourselves to look at the sleeping face. The chemotherapy caused so much weight loss and I take in the protruding cheek bones, the sunken eyes.

How are we meant to deal with this? We're only kids and already we're losing someone we thought would always be there. At 14 years old, I'm barely a teenager and yet I feel so much older.

I tear my eyes away and look up at Wyatt whose eyes are tearing up. He's seconds from breaking down again, I can feel it.

It scares me seeing him like this. My whole life I've had a big brother and during that entire time I've never seen him look as defeated as this. He's always been strong, trying his best to protect me from all the bad things in the world. At times I almost felt like I had a third parent.

Except now he's going to be standing in as my second one.

It feels weird being the one in control. I've always been the unpredictable, impulsive one and him the sensible, in control one. It was a perfect balance before all this. Now everything's out of control and we've changed.

I look back at the figure in the bed. The doctor said earlier that no pain was being felt because of all the morphine. It would be a comfortable death.

As that word pops into my head again and I look at my dying parent, it's like a floodgate has suddenly been opened and all the emotions I've blocked myself against come rushing in.

Anger, sadness and overwhelming pain.

I curl my hands into the material of the bed cover tightly and grit my teeth as I try to control the onslaught of tears threatening to overflow my eyes. I swallow and blink rapidly but I can't stop them and they start rolling down my cheeks silently. A small choked sob escapes my mouth before I can stop it and I bend my head.

Why is this happening?

I can feel the sting of the injustice burning inside of me. After everything our family has done for the greater good, this is how we're rewarded. How one of the strongest people I know is rewarded.

It suddenly hits me like a train how little time we have left now. Why didn't I take advantage of every second we had before this? I gaze down at the serene face before me and I feel a burst of hope that the closed eyes will flicker open. Just one more time so when I say goodbye it will actually be heard. But they stay closed.

A throat is cleared behind us and we turn our heads.

"The rest of the family has to come in now." says the doctor.

We nod and turn our heads back. I wait a moment and then hesitantly take hold of the limp hand lying on the bed. It's warm and I feel the stabbing pain in my heart as I realise that in an hour or so, this same hand will be cold.

I squeeze the hand gently and two last tears escape my eyes as I whisper those four simple words;

"I love you dad."


Not the biggest twist in the world I know but I don't think I've seen a story where it's Leo that dies instead of Piper!

Please review this! It's my first ever one-shot! Oh and the next story to be updated will be back to MBML as normal. :-)