The Promise of Safety is Undelivered.

Wyatt Halliwell is an overly-popular, well liked high-schooler who's almost graduated high-school and wants to go in to the police force. Christopher Perry puts up with an overly abusive foster family, is shy and rebellious, his magic slowly leaving him and almost leaving him for dead. When their paths meet, two worlds collide, and one will be left to shatter.

This is dedicated to the amazing CrazyxChaotic who puts up with my writing, my swearing, moments of insecurity, my countless ideas and never asking for anything back. :3 3

Beta'd by the amazing CrazyxChaotic,

Warnings: Child Abuse, Non-con, swearing, MalexMale,

Disclaimer: -Steals- IT'S ALL MINE! ALL MINE! -Drops in a puddle- …shit.

Chapter Four

Deciding that if he couldn't find anything to do, he'd at the very least cause some trouble.

He wanted a release.

He deserved that much.

Broken glass littered the pavement and the smell of liquor was almost overpowering. It had a sense of belonging, though. Drunken people with no senses whatsoever smiling at him, none of them looking like they'd try to harm them. A drug dealer, down a rather dark alley way he had cut through, had raised his eyebrows, winking at him.

Feeling like he was a part of some kind of group, he winked back, a cocky smile crossing his face. With a smirk, he walked down the familiar path, stopping next to a dark figure leaning against the wall of a chapel.

"Hey, Frank." He greeted calmly, sliding down the wall to sit down next to the man.

A scruffy face peered up at him, before Frank smiled, recognition crossing over his face.

"'Ey, Kid." He replied, accent thick and slurred "Out of ya' stash 'lready?" An eyebrow was raised, and Chris snorted bitterly.

"Yeah, It's gone much quicker than I'd like to admit." He leaned against the man slightly, smiling softly when an arm wrapping around his shoulders.

"The best I can do t'night, Kid, is share a couple of me bottles wit' ya. Gettin' more bottles inna few days." He offered Chris a brown bottle, and after a cursory sniff, the teenager took it gratefully. Taking a swig, the liquid burning it's way down his parched throat, he spoke. "It's gotten worse,"

"Awh, Kid." He said affectionately, "Wish I could do somethin' for ya. If I was still a lawyer, I'd help ya. Couldn't do nuthin' for you now."

"Nothing you could do." Chris whispered softly, and he felt the arm around him tighten. "I wish I could just live out here with you. But knowing my luck Maureen would have a search party to find me if I don't show up for a few days."

Frank laughed softly. "Kid, why would'ya wanna stay wit' me? Just'a drunk wit' money, no home. Nuthin' but money, beer an' drugs."

"Friendship matters more than anything. Beer follows closely. Living the primelife with you sounds great. Wouldn't even have to speak English."

Frank fought back tears hearing the kid right in front of him, the boy barely sixteen and warming his battered heart more than he ever thought would be possible. The kid was beaten almost every day, he had lost his parents, had to stop using his native tongue, but yet, even through his hell, the kid could make anyone's day. Or anyone's drunken morning.

"Kid, if I wasn't so selfis', I'd tell ya that ya shouldn't take after me, but I want ya 'round. So, make ya choice."

Chris smiled softly, "I want to stay with you, but I'd doubt anyone would let me stay long. But I'll stay as long as I can."

Frank's battle with the tears was lost, and he smiled at the kid who was curled into his side, slowly sipping from the bottle of whiskey.

"I'm glad ya stayin' wit' me, kid."

Waking up as the sunlight glinted on broken glass, catching his eyes, Chris looked up to Frank, the man still sleeping. A glass bottle was held tightly in his hand and the other was grasping the teen's leather jacket that was nearly two sizes too big. Smiling, Chris leaned in to the touch, one of the few touches he could actually stand these days.

Frank snorted in his sleep, shifting slightly and Chris rolled his eyes. From the position of the sun leaking into the alleyway, he estimated it to be around eleven a.m. It was typical that he only managed to get a decent amount of sleep in an alleyway.

Sighing as he heard his obnoxiously loud ringtone, he discovered that both his arms were pinned, one against Frank, the other under the older mans arm. Gently prying the older man's arm away, he almost groaned when the man awoke, his face annoyed at the ringtone.

"Answer it." He demanded, sounding almost fearful that his companion might be taken away from him.

Chris nodded, pulling it out of his pocket and looking at the display, which flashed up with Karen's name, he sighed again, his eyes meeting Frank's grey ones as he answered.

"Hey, Karen." He said as calmly as possible. "I'm okay, I just left early this morning." It wasn't a complete lie, he left at two a.m., which counted as early morning. "Yeah, I took my other bag," He lied easily, his hand unconsciously going down to his hip. "it's fine," he snapped before apologising at his outburst.

"Look, Karen, I gotta go, Maureen wants me to do something for her." He hung up and met Frank's eyes. "I still want to stay with you, but we can't stay here. They'll find us in no time."

The grey-eyed man nodded, and Chris smiled. "It's up to you where you want to go, but we need to get out of here quick. Karen's suspicious and it won't take her long to call Maureen. She's at work and so is Tony, so we should be fine to get stuff.' He informed the older man, who smiled softly, his eyes glinting.

"Let's go then, 'Ey kid. Get this show on da' road." He said softly, picking up the only alcohol bottle the duo hadn't drunk and patting down his coat, making sure he had everything.

Nodding for Chris to lead the way, he smiled softly after the short figure. He would finally be somewhere special with someone he cared for.

Hopefully this time it wouldn't end in disaster.

Short chapter in Chris's POV. :3 To make up for the shortness of it, I'll try to have an extra long one up soon. ^^"
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