Quick Way to Get through My Insanity: Read the bold paragraph, skip the ones w/ "SKIP" b4 'em.

(SKIP) IMPORTANT for people who are light readers: The first few (+) paragraphs in this chapter are explanatory and description heavy, I can't help it, it's the way I write: totally stream-of-consciousness. However, if you're only looking for action scenes (not as in action movies), then I suggest you scroll down a bit, past the A/N's and first chunk of paragraphs. You will miss some foreshadowing that made its way in there, but no harm no foul. If you get confused at any point, you can always go back and read the A/N's.

I know that there's a crud load of A/N's below this, each little paragraph added at a different time and in a random order whenever I got a relevant idea, this one being the last of them, but I think this is the most important one. For some reason, as I've been writing this chapter, the style I usually try to use with fanfics has been replaced with how I would write longer, more formal stories. It's obviously the type of writing style I'm more comfortable with, based on both the ease of this chapter's composition and its length, and I've decided that the odds of me sticking with this story and eventually completing it will be greater if I continue with this trend. And so, unlike my other stories created from bit parts, this fic will be longer, the previous Ch. counting as a prelude of sorts, and will read more like a novella. Sorry if that doesn't rock your socks.

(SKIP) A/N: Okeydokey, so first things first =): I gave this story its title based on what Microsoft Word had me save it as. You know how they just call it whatever the first couple of words in your doc are unless you give it a specific title? Well, sometimes I don't really give a crud and that's what happened. The first sentence of the last chapter was "are you a mother-fucking idiot", I believe, and so I just took out the profanity part. HOWEVER. Funny story =). Because it limits the number of letters in a title, I didn't notice until now that this story is called "Are you a moth?" on my computer. Lol, I just pictured the bug. Hahaha, well, if you were me you'd totally find that funny.

(SKIP) POLL: Are you a moth? Yes or no.

(SKIP) A/N (cont.): She doesn't have a huge part yet, but Piper's third kid, Prudence Melinda, is gonna be Chris and Wyatt's older sister instead of their younger one in my story just because it makes Chris the youngest, which is a trait that I like about him =). Plus, what I have to do to make Piper and Leo having an older child make sense makes for a fun side-story (which will still be Chris-centric). I think that's it =D.

(SKIP) Oh, that and April 20th rocked, Manhattan Beach rocks and the new Six Flags Ride (Magic Mountain) will rock. (See how I got my past, present AND future tenses covered… yup.)

Chapter 2

For the past six months, Chris and Wyatt had been sharing a duplex in Manhattan Beach in LA. Chris had followed Wyatt down the coast after high school, attending UCLA while Wyatt was in his third year at UC Santa Barbara. Being that Chris spent his first two years living on campus and the fact that the distance between the two schools was a little much to be sharing an apartment while Wyatt was still attending, they held off until Wyatt was graduated and Chris was a junior before moving in together.

It's not that it's terribly strange for two brothers to be living together in adulthood, I mean, just look at Two and Half Men, but the reasons for Chris and Wyatt doing it were a little more unusual. Just like the sisters had held strong that living together strengthened their magical bond and kept them safer, Chris and Wyatt had held the same idea. Wyatt may have been the golden child, but even he had to admit that he was stronger with his family around. He, Chris and their sister Mel had a bond similar to the Power of Three and, while Mel wasn't around as much, even just two of them together magnified their power. So Wyatt had stayed in LA, even after college. He had to protect his little brother, didn't he? And, besides, who can turn down a duplex in Manhattan Beach?

Job-wise, it was pretty tough finding a good office one with a History degree, but Wyatt was actually surprisingly happy when he scored a gig as a bartender. Despite the lure of wealth from becoming a doctor or a lawyer, bartending had always been a secret dream job for him and he definitely didn't mind spending a year or two doing it before figuring out what he was going to do with the rest of his life. His day-job most days was in a bar in Santa Monica facing a giant car wash, where he got a surprising amount of day drinkers, especially during the warmer months. Not that there were really any cold months in Santa Monica, but people who grew up in the sun tended to wear down jackets the second it got below sixty five (a little above 18 in Celsius). Aside from the weather neurosis, it also seemed as though the sunshine made everyone less uptight and Wyatt was really starting to dig their way of life. People from other areas don't usually classify people from LA as calm, but once you get down to the beach cities, Huntington to Venice, everyone is just so cool. It's like, in retrospect, with the amount of traffic they have to deal with, I really don't think they'd survive otherwise. The reason for the misjudgment of character regarding Los Angeles from people who visit is that, plainly, it isn't a tourist town. Sure, there's Disneyland (which isn't even in LA County) and Hollywood Boulevard, and maybe even the Dodgers, but none of those things would give you the correct feel. To experience LA, you would have to experience different areas and spend an extended amount of time doing it: way more to feel than what can be felt in the span of a single vacation.

Wyatt began to understand this more after one month at work than he did throughout his whole time at UCSB. While college in a new place can broaden one's horizons, universities are their own inbred societies and cultures and, oftentimes, out of area students are never really exposed to the lives of the locals. Now, twenty-three and alive, Wyatt was exposed and, boy, was he happy to absorb. He'd get his Pete's, Starbucks or Coffee Bean in the mornings, eat tons of frozen yogurt and legitimate Mexican food, and his beach bum buddies from work were having him pick up surfing faster than Keanu Reeves in Point Break. He knew who the regulars at the bar were, he'd memorized their orders and he was generally liked by the bulk of the people coming through. He was so in the game that he almost laughed when he got offered a second job at a nightclub in LA (downtown).

Wyatt had gotten pretty good at mixing drinks and making a show out of it and, a little over a month in, an impressed customer had approached him, telling him that he had just the "persona" she was looking for. The woman, stylish and pretty, who wore those big buggy-eyed sunglasses and who had an almost forced bubbly aspect to her personality, was, in Wyatt's opinion, a great example of the stereotypical California girl. Albeit she was a little older than Katy Perry, with a little more "flamboyant gay guy" in her and a working-woman version of the cliché, Wyatt was sure that association with her would lead to an introduction to a completely different part of LA culture.

Wyatt didn't really need the money a second job offered, especially considering that half of the duplex was paid for by his parents. Then again, he did have club experience from helping his mom out at P3 and, he had to admit, he kind of wanted to see what the nightlife was like downtown. The woman had given him a couple of days to think it over, but his newly twenty-one year old baby brother's incessant nagging to take the nifty sounding job was what made his mind up for him. However, taking from Kevin Kline's wise character in Grand Canyon and getting back to the driving in Los Angeles theme, "This is difficult stuff. Making a left turn in LA is one of the harder things you'll learn in life." Wyatt didn't know it at the time he said yes to the woman, also the owner of the club, but taking that job was going to turn into one hell of a left turn.

As for Chris, he was an English and Mathematics double-major with a minor in Political Science and, damn, was that a work load. On top of that, it was also really weird. I mean, what the hell kind of job was he thinking of getting that would incorporate Calculus, the workings of the law and Shakespearean sonnets? He told his parents that he wanted to keep his options open, but Wyatt was convinced that his indecisiveness would be the end of him. Maybe it was true. While he had his moments of spontaneity, Chris froze up any time he was asked what type of ice cream he wanted. Sometimes, when he was too afraid of doing the wrong thing, he would just do nothing.

Like the night in the alley. Chris was afraid of exposing magic, but he was also afraid of those assholes that cornered him. He had been drinking and that always made whatever he was feeling triple and, in this situation, he had been feeling fear. It's not surprising, any smart person would be right to fear a creepy alleyway with creepy big men in the middle of a creepy night. Only, a Halliwell should be able to defend itself and shouldn't be able to be pushed around by mortals. At least, that's what Chris was thinking on the ride back home.

When he and Wyatt had gotten into the car, before Wyatt had put the key in the ignition, he had given Chris a long hard look. He was definitely frazzled, but now he mostly looked tired. He had told himself that he wouldn't ask Chris what happened again until they got home, or even until the morning, but he still had to make sure he was okay.

"What?" Chris had shot at him.

Glancing at Chris a moment longer, Wyatt had nodded his head and then faced the wheel to start the car. Before he had pulled out the parking lot, though, he looked at Chris again and said, "You know, if you're tired you can just orb home and hit the sack. I'm cool taking the car back myself." His tone wasn't angry or aggressive, it was sweet and, as much as Wyatt didn't like the idea of Chris home by himself while he was upset, if his brother really needed to be home at that moment, he wouldn't be opposed to it.

However, all Chris wanted to do was turn on the radio and zone out. In a voice a little softer than his previous statement, he told Wyatt, "Nah, I'm fine… Can we please just get going?"

"Sure," Wyatt said, even softer than Chris, and pulled out of the lot. He let Chris put on a CD and couldn't help but be glad that he had decided to stay in the car. His little brother had been one of those babies that loved motion and passed out every time they were put into a moving vehicle. Growing up, Chris had loved rides and rollercoasters, even though they had made Wyatt queasy. He was one of those people who could get rocked to sleep at any age and, right then, he was just wanting to delve into the peacefulness of driving.

After a couple of minutes, they stopped at a red light and Wyatt looked over at Chris. His eyes were closed and he was leaning into the crook of the seat and the passenger side door. If he wasn't asleep, he was in his own little world. That state of semi-consciousness where your eyes get heavy and your body relaxed, but, if you were paying attention, you'd be able to hear what people around you were saying. Since nobody was saying anything, Chris was probably just sinking into the music, perhaps falling asleep. The light turned from red to green and Wyatt kept driving.

Since it was late and there wasn't any real traffic, they made it home in just under a half an hour. Carefully pulling into one of the tiny garages that accompanied these beachside duplexes, Wyatt almost hissed at the loud sound the closing garage door made. It was super rusty and made a horrible screeching noise every time it moved. The old lady that lived next door would stick her arm out of her window and threaten him with a broom whenever it woke her up. Simply put, it needed to get fixed.

Turning the engine off but keeping on the music, Wyatt tried to see if Chris was sleeping. He didn't shift at all from his earlier position and hadn't said a word the whole ride, so Wyatt was guessing yes. He turned the car off completely, music and all, and waited to see if that would gain a reaction. It didn't. He opened his door, got out, shut his door and then walked around the Chris'. Squatting down and looking through the window, Wyatt could see that he was still asleep and leaning heavily against the door. If he opened it, he would succeed in getting a conscious brother, but he'd probably have to go through the effort of catching him first. Sighing, Wyatt pulled on the handle.

As expected, the moment the door opened, Chris started to tip over and out of the car and, as he knew he'd have to, Wyatt caught his fall. "Come on, Chris," he said to his subtly groaning brother as he sat him back in his seat. He was going to continue softly cooing Chris out of his sleep when he realized that he wasn't even wearing a seatbelt. As neurotic as Chris was, Wyatt was a stickler for safety. It's what made him a trustworthy bartender and, at this moment, it's what made him roughly shake his brother and shout, "Damn it, Chris!"

Noticing right away that it wasn't the best thing to have done, Wyatt felt an immediate pang of guilt at the look Chris gave him when his eyes opened. Even though they must have been sleepy, Chris still managed to have wide eyes and the look on his face was a combination of confusion and fear. His head wasn't clear yet and all he could register was that somebody was leaning over him and gripping his arms. Gripping his arms like Jase had done. The second he started struggling, Wyatt pulled him into a hug. Trying to keep his little brother in a tight embrace, he was surprised when Chris didn't calm down after he apologized and said that it was just him, "It's okay, Chris, it's me, Wyatt."

Instead, at the realization that he had just woken up really awkwardly and had freaked the fuck out in front of Wyatt, hugging him was the last thing that he wanted to do. Barely a minute after the fact and he was already dying of embarrassment and shame. He didn't want Wyatt to feel sorry for him and, for that matter, he didn't want Wyatt to feel like he had to protect him all of the time. Of course, he understood that there were situations where he needed to count on him to have his back, predominantly demonic situations, but this wasn't one of them. Maybe back in the alley, but not now. Right now, what Chris wanted most was to feel strong and he couldn't do that with Wyatt treating him like a hurt little kid. So, squirming against strong arms, he succeeded in getting away from his brother by practically shoving himself out of the car and landing with a hard thud as his right side hit pavement.

"Chris!" Wyatt exclaimed, trying to get to his brother again.

In response, Chris clumsily scampered away, "Just stop it, Wy! Okay! Just stop it."

Freezing his movements, Wyatt looked worried. Watching his brother huffing and puffing from his place on the floor, he opened his mouth to speak, but he wasn't quite sure what to say. After a few moments, Chris started slowly getting up and Wyatt was smart enough to let him be. "I'm sorry Chris," he said, "I didn't mean to scare you." His voice was a mix between guilt-ridden and skeptical.

Brushing off his pants as he finished standing, Chris yelled back, "You didn't scare me, alright! I just had a fucked up dream and you shaking me and trying to suffocate me didn't help!"

"Alright, I'm sorry."

Watching his brother's face, Chris didn't see pity. If anything, Wyatt, himself, looked pitiful. Probably my fault, Chris thought. Trying his best to calm down and put things into perspective, he ended up apologizing to Wyatt, "No, it's fine, Wy. I'm sorry, I just… I haven't slept in god knows how long and I probably drank more than I should have tonight on an empty stomach. I just had a bad trip or something. I'm gonna head inside and go to bed." Walking passed Wyatt, Chris gave him a small smile and walked through the door leading to their apartment.

Just like earlier in the night, Wyatt didn't want to question him, at least until the next day, and didn't immediately follow. He felt bad about screaming at him, but mostly he was just worried. Chris had always been a little bitchy when he was stressed, but this was intense. This attitude didn't just pop out of nowhere. Wyatt knew something must have happened tonight to shake him up. They had been together in the club and Chris had seemed fine, happy even, and so the obvious answer was that something had happened when he left him alone in the alley. Maybe he got a bad phone call… But would a phone call really upset him this much and make him not want to tell Wyatt about it? It would have had to have been one hell of a conversation… Wait. Demons, Wyatt thought, snapping his finger in realization and shaking his head as if to say, "I should have known."

Chris must have been attacked and not able to kill the thing. Or things. God, it made so much sense. Chris' powers had been acting up recently and, even though he hated to admit it to Wyatt, there was no hiding the fact that when he tried to TK (using telekinesis) anything to him it ended up smacking him in the face. He'd laugh it off, but Wyatt knew there was more to the problem…

Snapped out of his reverie by the beep of a cell phone, Wyatt looked to where the sound came from. He could see Chris' cell phone sitting on the front seat through the still open passenger side door. I really shouldn't… Confident that Chris wasn't coming back to garage after glancing at the door to the apartment, he decided to ignore his cautionary thought and grabbed the phone. Opening it, he read a text message from an unnamed number:

Nice meeting you tonight, Buddy. Next time we'll make it more than just a quickie in an alley :O

The message was slightly ambiguous, but Wyatt didn't miss the implications that this person was trying to get across. Did Chris seriously meet somebody in the span of ten minutes and screw them? No way, Chris wouldn't do that and, again, the ten minutes thing was kind of a crucial element to the equation. Could he have met somebody in the club who just talked about an alley by pure coincidence? Wyatt had gone to the bathroom a couple of times… Or then again, it could still be a demon. I mean, they've kept up with the times, too. Wyatt wouldn't be surprised if the piece of scum had resorted to intimidation via text messaging.

"Fuck this," Wyatt stated before shutting the car door and heading inside. Screw sparing Chris' feelings by not questioning him tonight. If Chris was in trouble, Wyatt needed to know and he wasn't about to risk a perverted demon shimmering in on his brother while they were sleeping. Getting to the top of the steps and standing in front of Chris' door, Wyatt knocked, "Chris, let me in. We need to talk… You know I don't care if you're decent or not so I'm opening this door."

He turned the handle only to find resistance. The door was locked. In this apartment, locking a door was pretty much a metaphorical action; if they wanted to bust in on each other's privacy, they could always just orb. "Unhh," the big brother groaned before disappearing in a mass of glittery blue lights and reappearing in the same fashion in Chris' bedroom. Only, Chris wasn't there. Wyatt looked around the rest of the apartment before resorting to calling him. Calling in the whitelighter sense, of course, both because it's easier that way and the fact that Wyatt had the younger's cell phone. Again, Wyatt came out empty. Chris didn't answer and, while Wyatt could sense that he was alive and not in the underworld, he couldn't sense exactly where he was.

"Chris!" he tried one more time. Nothing. He paced back and forth, trying to figure out what to do. Pulling Chris' phone out of his pocket, he stopped walking and dialed a number he knew by heart: the manor. It rang a few times before a sleepy voice answered,

"Hello?"

"Dad, it's Wyatt."

"Wyatt? It's three a.m., why are you calling?" At his son's lack of response, with the exception of heavy breathing, something clicked in Leo and he shot up in bed, "Wyatt, what's going on? Are you guys alright?"

Wyatt swallowed before answering his dad, "I- I lost Chris."

A/N: Oh god that was more painful than I made it seem in my "before story" author's note. Aye yai yai…

Ummm soo I actually didn't look at the reviews until just now, or else I totally would have just skipped all this shit and gone straight to a Jase/Wyatt confrontation. Oh well, I was planning on doing it after I do my big action and intense shiznit next chapter (I know there wasn't any of that jazz in this one, so consider this chapter the calm before the storm).

Holy shit, even without author's notes this ch was over 3000 words. No wonder my head hurts, I did this all in one go.