Yeah, this is pretty depressing stuff, and a fairly vivid image of a suicide attempt; if you even think that may bother you stop reading right now.

Brotherly Love

No one should ever feel so much pain. No one should lose something so important in their lives, so vital to their happiness. Happiness is the reason for living right? It is at the core of every action people make. So what was the reason for living now? She had been the light in a house full of darkness. She had been the glue to hold an unstable family together. Now, she was gone. She was dead, and it was his fault.

Christopher Perry Halliwell sat numbly on the edge of his bed. He didn't know how long he had been staring at the wall, but time didn't really seem so important anymore. Who was going to yell at him to go outside and have fun? Who was going to order him to do his homework? No one. He had no one now. No one to care if he sat inside staring at wall for the rest of his life. He felt completely and totally alone.

His eyes shifted to look at the suit, rumpled lying on the floor in the corner of his bedroom. He had worn that to the...to the funeral last month. Should have hung it up in the closet, but for some reason he couldn't care less if it sat there for all eternity just getting more wrinkled and dirty. The one person who would have made him care isn't around anymore. So...it stayed on the floor.

Chris glanced over at the clock on his night-stand. It was four-thirty. He'd been sitting in his room staring at the damn wall for two hours. Ever since he got back from school. School. What was the point? He had no reason to go. Kids went to school mostly because their parents make them. Problem was, Chris didn't have any parents anymore. Unless you count a father who only recently has been around frequently enough to have any idea what is going on with the family. Leo tries, but he can't heal his son's pain. No one can. Only something.

The teenager stood and moved out of his room for the first time since he got home. Glancing warily around the hallway he moved into the bathroom. He opened up the medicine cabinet looking for anything that might help him to forget for just a little while that he had killed his own mother. After shifting bottles over to see what was behind them, Chris found what he was looking for. His aunt Pheobe's prescription migraine reliever. He shoved the bottle into the pocket of his jeans and orbed back into his room.

Twisting off the lid, the young teen poured some pills into his hand and threw them to the back of his throat swallowing them all. He'd done this so many times since the funeral he didn't even need water anymore. He'd chew the stupid things if he had to. It didn't matter. He just didn't want to feel or remember. He just wanted the images to end.

As he began to feel light headed, Chris noticed the tie lying next to the suits. He moved mechanically over to the crumpled black silk tie and picked it up. When he'd worn it for the funeral it had felt like a noose around his neck...a noose. It wasn't long enough. He'd need another one. He looked over his shoulder to his brother's dresser. Wyatt had lots of ties. He was on some sort of speech team or something, and they needed to dress up a lot.

It didn't take long for Chris to tie together four ties even with his vision spinning. He just blinked a couple of times and everything was okay...well, vision wise everything was okay. Life wise nothing would ever be okay again. He moved to the closet slowly hoping that he didn't pass out before he finished what he had in mind. If he passed out, the others would know how weak and stupid he was...most importantly he'd never get another chance to end his pain.

Looping one end of the makeshift rope around the clothes hanging pole, he tied a knot and tugged on it making sure it wouldn't come undone. Next he took the other end and twisted it around his neck tying it off the best he could. Then he kneeled allowing the ties to cut off the oxygen flow. He was finally going to stop the pain for good.

Wyatt orbed into the room he shared with his little brother after just getting out of football practice. It had been good to get out on the field again. Out of the house where the memories were enough to drive him insane. He had never been more physical during a practice. His coach was thrilled that his peaceful tempered center had finally shown some true aggression out there. It was easy today. He just kept thinking about what had happened to his mom and his brother. Then, finding rage was easy.

He sighed taking off his shirt and throwing it on his bed. Then, he just flopped down for a second. After a month off to mourn his body just wasn't used to the stress anymore. He was beat. He just wanted to take a little nap. He was about to close his eyes and lay down when he noticed a prescription bottle lying on Chris' bed. Pills were spread all over his comforter. Had he...?

Wyatt stood up about to go find Chris when he suddenly saw the most terrifying image he had ever seen in his life. His kid brother was passed out in the closet with a makeshift noose around his neck. He looked so pale as he just kneeled there leaning to one side as the ties cut off oxygen flow.

The Twice Blessed sprinted to the closet and conjured a knife, quickly cutting down his brother. Chris collapsed into Wyatt's lap, and the older brother raised his hands over his younger brother's chest praying that it wasn't too late. His hands started to glow, the familiar golden light emanating from them. Chris coughed and gasped his eyes fluttering open after a minute.

Wyatt pulled Chris up slightly hugging him fiercely. "Thank god." Tears began forming in the older brother's eyes as he held onto his kid brother with everything he had. Chris for his part just let him.

Pulling away slightly Wyatt shook Chris. "How the hell could you do that to me? Do you have any idea how scared I was? I thought you might have been dead, Chris! Do you know what that would have done to me? Do you?" He shook him again for emphasis.

Chris' expression didn't change. He just sat there staring with the same void look he had possessed for the last month. "I'm not good enough to die."

"What?" Wyatt frowned.

"I can't die because life is my punishment. This never ending suffering is my punishment for...for killing mom."

"No. You did not kill her, Chris. She was killed by the bastard with the gun.. How could you even think this was your fault? You had nothing to do with it."

Chris jerked his arm from his brother's grasp tears were starting to stream down his face. "I was distracting her. If she hadn't been arguing with me, she would have had time to freeze the bullet. I just couldn't shut up about going to lake with my friends. All she wanted was for me to orb us home. If I would have just done it the first time she asked we wouldn't have been in that alley. But no, I just kept nagging her and nagging her. Neither of us saw him coming. By the time we did..."

"Chris, you can't do this to yourself. You had no way of knowing it would happen. None of us could even imagine it. How could we have known that some guy who had just escaped police custody would run into that alley...that'd he be so cowardly that he would shoot a woman and her son just because they might have seen him and blown his cover? How could you even think it was your fault? You got shot too; you blacked out before Dad even got there. It was lucky you were even able to call for him before you..." Wyatt shook his head not wanting to travel down that road. "If you want to play the blame game, I can say I killed her because you two were up town because I asked you to pick me up some socks. I killed our mother over a stupid thing like socks. So just shut up about it being your fault right now!"

The younger Halliwell looked at his brother for the first time. His emerald eyes glistened as the tears fell. "I can't get the image out of my head. Wyatt, there was so much blood and...and her head..."

"You saw it? I thought you said you didn't." Wyatt frowned terrified at what his kid brother had whitnessed that terrible day.

Chris shook his head. "I didn't want to have to see a shrink. I knew they would make me go see someone about it. Wyatt, I don't want to talk to some stranger about seeing my mother's head blown apart. They can't say anything that will make the image of her eyes in that moment go away."

Wyatt didn't like where this was going so he pulled his brother against him again patting his back gently. "Hey, shh...don't go there. Just try not to go there. If you keep thinking about that, you'll make yourself sick."

"I already am." Was the muffled response. Chris lifted his head slightly, his eyes begging. "Wyatt, I'm scared. I don't want to be like this. Help me, please."

The Twice Blessed all powerful witch felt more helpless than he had ever felt in his life. As his little brother looked up to him with those green eyes, begging him to help, all he could do was try to be strong for his brother's sake. "I swear, Chris, I'm going to help you no matter what. Do you hear me? You're my brother, damn it. I am not losing you too."

tbc...if people want me tell me to