Overjoyed

Oh I feel overjoyed
When you listen to my words
I see them sinking in
Oh I see them crawling underneath your skin

Words are all we have
We'll be talking
We'll be talking
These words are all we have
We'll be talking

And I hear you calling in the dead of night
And I hear you calling in the dead of night

You lean towards despair
Any given opportunity you're there
But what is there to gain?
When you're always falling off the fence that way.

Words are all we have
We'll be talking
We'll be talking
These words are all we have
We'll be talking

And I hear you calling in the dead of night
Oh I hear you calling in the dead of night

Ooooooh

And I hear you calling in the dead of night
Oh I hear you calling in the dead of night
And I hear you calling in the dead of night
Oh I hear you calling in the dead of night

Ooooooh

Oh I feel overjoyed
When you listen to my words - Bastille

Chris squeezed his way passed the idiot couples making out in the middle of the doorway. One footballer shoved him roughly sending him stumbling over the threshold and almost face first into the rough stone pathway to the pool. Luckily years of demon fighting and hand-to-hand combat training with his Aunt Phoebe meant he had quicker than average reflexes. He caught himself on his hands and rolled to absorb the impact. Still stones cut into his palms and he heard one of his wrists pop. Gingerly he got back to his feet and brushed off his jeans. He wrist stung but was not sprained or broken. The same would not be said for the fool who pushed him.

Ordinarily Chris would let something like a shove slide, but he was slightly under the influence of alcoholic beverages. There was also the fact that his girlfriend of a year was currently getting naked with one of his ex-friends. He shut his eyes tightly in an attempt to remove that sickening image from his memory. Anger was boiling up inside of him, and it needed an outlet.

Not one for open hostilities he reached out his hand and twitched a finger. The guy's hand slipped from caressing the girl's breast to being between her legs. He had not meant for it to go that far, but the resounding slap and screech quickly drove out any hint of guilt. The girl stormed off back into the strobing living room that currently functioned as a dance floor. The guy had punched the wall in frustration and was currently hopping around cradling his wounded hand.

Chris turned around and almost stumbled into Mitchel Halifax. He was an Oxford student who had chosen to spend a semester studying in the US. They had 'Anatomy and Physiology' together, and after Mitchell had a falling out with his rich uncle he had moved in with Chris.

"Sorry, man!" said Mitchel using Chris to steady himself.

Chris shrugged off the almost collision, positive it had been his fault. "Where's that blonde chick you were chatting up in there?"

Mitchel hiccupped. "No clue, lost her about half an hour ago. Where'd you disappear to?"

"Forget it," growled Chris.

Mitchel tried to stand up straight but almost toppled over forcing Chris to catch him. "That's a loaded half sentence."

Chris helped Mitchel over to a plastic bench and deposited his friend. He, however, remained standing unable to even contemplate sitting still. He gritted his teeth and watched an extremely drunk lanky freshman be slowly bullied into the swimming pool by three well-dressed fraternity brothers. Off to the side were a group of giggling scantily clothed girls all holding the ubiquitous plastic red cups of a frat party. There was a splash and Chris's eyes darted back to the guys. The freshman returned to the surface sputtering but laughing.

"You done here?" asked Chris not looking down at his friend.

Mitchel mumbled something incoherent, and Chris frowned. He tore his eyes away from the scene at the pool and groaned. Mitchel had toppled onto his side and curled up on the bench clearly intent on sleeping off his intoxication right there. Chris bent down and shook the man roughly.

"Wakey, wakey, dude. Let's go home."

Mitchel batted away his hand and turned away from him. Exasperated Chris looked around and found a bucket of ice with a few beers still inside on a nearby table. He set the beers off to the side and carried the bucket over to his dozing friend. He dumped the contents without warning and grinned at the result. Mitchel had cursed fluently in Russian and sat blot up right.

"I'll kill you for that, Chris!"

Chris chucked the bucket aside and clutched his sides. He was running on fumes because of midterms. He was an emotional time bomb, but it felt good to laugh uncontrollably. Mitchel's continued accusations and threats only set him off more until he was rolling on the floor unable to breath.

Finally Mitchel pulled him back to his feet. "Right, we need to get you home."

"Why?" snorted Chris.

"Because, my American friend, you are exhausted and drunk off your arse."

Chris stopped walking. "This from the drunk who fell asleep on a bench."

Mitchel waved off the remark. "I was just resting my eyes. There was no need to dump the entire contents of the North Sea all over me."

They both laughed and arm in arm made their way to the front of the house via a side gate. Chris dug out his keys from his pocket, but when he saw two set of keys replaced them. Instead he pulled out his phone and started dialing.

"You know a taxi's number by heart?" asked Mitchel

Chris shook his head. "I was hoping the person on the other end would."

Mitchel grabbed the phone out of his hand and started dialing.

"Hey!"

Mitchel kept the phone out of his reach. "I'm calling information."

"Who was I calling?" questioned Chris now confused.

"No idea," said Mitchel before continuing, "Yes, I need to be connected to a taxi company serving the Sea Cliff area. Right. OK. Thank you."

"What's happening?"

Mitchel covered the mouthpiece of the phone. "I'm calling for a cab."

Chris lay back on the hood of the nearest car and let out a long sigh. "Mary's a bitch."

Mitchel joined him on the car, phone still pressed to his ear. "I've been telling you that all year."

"She's fucking Johnny, the asshole."

Mitchel lowered the phone. "You're fucking kidding me."

"No. I wish." Chris blinked away the tears. "I really loved her."

Mitchel patted him on the arm. "Sorry, mate."

Chris sat up, the metal beneath him complained. "What do I do?"

"We need a ride from…"

Chris tuned out his friend. How did he always fall the worst girls? In high school there had been Melanie who had broken up with him just before prom for Marcus Johnson the quarterback of the football team. Then freshman year in college both Amy and Christie had cheated on him with the same dude. He had sworn off woman sophomore year, but at the beginning of junior year John had introduce him to his organic chemistry partner. Mary had been perfect. He figured new city, new college; why not give it all another go.

How long had they been doing it?

"Earth to Chris!"

Chris shook his head. "Yeah."

Mitchel handed back his phone. "They'll meet us at the end of the street. Some shite about neighborhood regulations."

Chris climbed off the car and realized it was Johnny's. Without thinking he pulled out his keys and made a long scratch across the hood.

"Let him explain that to his daddy."

Mitchel pulled him away from the car before he could do more damage.

"Let's go."

Chris did not protest feeling all the anger drain from him. He grew numb and mindlessly followed his friend down the sloping street. Tonight he had wanted to invite Mary to finally meet his parents. Even living in the same city he hardly saw his family, feeling like he should at least pretend to still be away for college. He really only saw them once or twice on the weekends and then vacations. During the last Christmas break he had taken Mary away for a week skiing.

"Cheer up. This means you can go for that hot chick friend of your brother," reasoned Mitchel.

Chris thought of Serena and the last set of text messages they had exchanged. She had written a long paragraph about the bartender at the local pub. He doubted he would stand a chance with her even if there was not another boy. And then there would be Anakin to contend with Anakin who was extremely protective of his friendships.

"She's dating someone," said Chris monotonously.

Mitchel cursed, "You guys have rotten timing."

Chris managed a tired grin. It was true. There had not been a time since he realized he liked Serena that they had both been single. He had told Mitchel as much on one of the few nights when he had been extremely wasted and Mitchel had been completely sober. His feelings toward Serena were a closely guarded secret.

They reached the end of the street and waited on the brightly light corner. As was common in the city during this time of year the fog started to roll in until Chris could not make out Mitchel who was only a few feet away. He hoped the cab driver hurried up. He was freezing and nauseous. All he wanted was a preemptive aspirin and the warm comfort of his heated bed.

Soon enough a car drove up and Mitchel called for him. He pulled himself into the cab and let Mitchel direct the driver. He stared out the window gently resting his forehead against the cool glass. It surprised him in an abstract fashion how well Mitchel knew him even after only a few short months. The man even though he was far drunker easily took control of the situation and did not bother Chris at all. He knew exactly when to speak up and help and when to keep quiet. The only other person who knew him this well was Wyatt, and he had years to perfect his assessment skills.

When they arrived at the small Victorian building Chris climbed out and Mitchel followed. Mitchel reached into his pants for his wallet, but Chris beat him to it and paid the driver who was not impressed with his tip. Chris knew though that if Mitchel had paid the man might have actually gotten out and attempted to kill one of them; Mitchel never tipped.

"Well—," Mitchel held up a similar finger. "To you too."

Chris shook his head slowly but stopped almost immediately. The world had taken to spinning and rocking. Clumsily he made his way up the short garden path and onto the patio they shared with their neighbors of the duplex. Thankful tomorrow was Saturday Chris stumbled up to his room and collapsed onto his bed without saying anything to Mitchel or getting undressed.

In the morning he woke up with the hangover of a lifetime. His mouth felt like the Sahara Desert had moved into it along with the cotton pads from a dozen drug stores. His head pounded and threated to split in two. Groaning he crawled out of bed which was an ordeal. During the night he had managed to get himself wrapped up in all of his bedding. Opening the bedroom door he saw that the bathroom was occupied, so he bypassed it for the kitchen. He poured himself a large glass of tepid water and downed the daily limit of aspirin with it.

The morning paper was already lying on the tiny table in the kitchen and he wondered exactly how long Mitchel had been awake. The man never read the newspaper. Turning it over to the front page Chris was surprised to see his mother staring back at him. It must be a very slow news day if the opening of a restaurant made the front page, but he still felt proud of his mother's accomplishments. The date above the headline reminded him he would have to go out and buy Serena a birthday present.

The pipes groaned signaling Mitchel was finished with his shower. Not feeling like climbing the stairs Chris busied himself with making toast. The toaster was already out as were the butter and half of the loaf he had bought the day before. The thought of putting anything with flavor in his mouth did not agree with his empty stomach so he packed away the butter and groaned. The fridge was practically empty. Only a sole beer remained in the door and an empty carton of skim milk. He hated grocery shopping and wondered if he could convince Mitchel to go to the store alone. He quickly dismissed the idea not trusting the Briton to buy anything more than beer and possibly milk for his nearly constant cup of tea.

Speaking of Mitchel Chris shut the fridge's door to see his friend descending the stairs clade in only a towel. He was busy drying his shaggy hair brown hair with a separate towel.

"We're out of food."

Mitchel tossed the towel through the open door that led to the dark laundry room. "We've still got a couple cans of tomato soup, I think."

Chris rolled his eyes. "Still got to go to the store."

"Well, I've got work. I can catch up with you afters."

The mystery of the early rising explained Chris turned back to the toaster. "Nah, I can get it."

"Well then can I persuade you to buy some more tea? I used the last bag this morning."

Feeling like he walked into a trap Chris gritted his teeth. It was not a huge deal, but it was Mitchel's turn to go shopping.

"Sure. Anything else?"

He followed Mitchel's progress to his room by the padding of his feet. The toast jumped out of the toaster, and he caught the slice automatically. Not receiving an answer he bit into the toast and started up the stairs. He finished the toast before making it to the top and had nothing else to occupy his mind as he collected jeans and a plain black t-shirt from his room. Grumbling to himself he entered the still humid bathroom and shut the door.

Slowly he unbuttoned the creased shirt and with a shock recognized it as his last birthday gift from Mary. It was a horrid washed-out salmon color, and he only wore it because she thought he looked cute in it. Balling it up he chucked it in the trashcan. He assumed he would have to face her and Johnny today as well. His day kept getting better and better.

Turning on the shower to the hottest he could handle he removing the tight black jeans. He must have been exhausted to have slept with them on. Underwear off, he stepped into the near scalding stream of water and tried to relax. He went through a breathing exercise his Aunt Phoebe had taught him when he had developed his empathy powers. Random scenes of his time with Mary kept popping into his mind, and he would have to start over.

He knew Johnny from middle school. He had been the reason Chris joined the swimming team freshman year. They had celebrated milestones together and supported the other in defeat. Nothing prepared him for the betrayal he suffered last night. He only had one worse memory of betrayal, but it was broken and fuzzy, because like Anakin he also had memories of a different timeline. A secret he kept buried deep down. Only Aunt Paige, Wyatt, and Prue knew, and he had sworn them to complete confidentiality.

Mitchel pounded on the door before opening it a crack. "You decent?"

"What the fuck do you think?"

Nevertheless Mitchel entered. "Sorry, but I'm going to be late."

Chris stuck his head under the water and silently screamed. Nothing today would go his way; he could already tell. Doing his best to ignore the presence of another he lathered up and scrubbed down his body. Feeling stubble he reached for the shaving cream and found it empty. Well and truly frustrated he slammed his fist against the tiled wall.

"What's up?"

Chris took in a shuttering breath. "Shaving cream is empty."

"Oh, yeah. I forgot to replace it, didn't I?" said Mitchel happily, and he handed over a new can without turning around.

"Thanks," said Chris gruffly.

Chris felt Mitchel's eyes on him and was thankful that the towel hanging on the shower door covered his lower half.

"You know I can always call in sick."

"No, don't do that," replied Chris quickly.

Mitchel turned fully around. "If you're sure. I'm off then."

Chris nodded. "I'll see you tonight."

His new best friend silently left the bathroom. Chris felt the temperature drop a few degrees and almost called Mitchel back. Today was going to suck, but he felt he would deal with everything better if he was alone. He quickly finished up and turned off the water but did not leave the shower. Standing there in the quiet shower he made a vow to once again swear off women. They complicated matters too much. He exited the bathroom minutes later fully dressed and ready to face the day.

Collecting his keys, wallet, and cellphone from amongst the bed sheets he hurried out of the house and into the cool but sunny morning. He stopped at the independent grocer at the bottom of their street and bought a large orange juice and exchanged a twenty-dollar bill for smaller denominations.

A short tram ride later he was back underneath the streetlight from the previous night. The hill was much steeper than he remembered it, but he made quick work of it. While he did not workout religiously like Anakin he still swam a few laps every chance he got. Reaching the house he found his car and climbed into it. Most of the other cars were still outside, but Johnny's car was not one of them

Not wanting to deal with deal with tourist crowds he drove over the bridge and stopped at a small boutique shop he knew carried unique jewelry, having bought Prue's Christmas present there. When he had been there a pair of gold earrings had caught his eye, and he knew they would be perfect for Serena. He would have bought them for Christmas, but he had been with Mary at the time. Mary took issue with his friendship with his brother's best friend even though they had never met.

He stopped at a post office to send off the parcel and the half dozen applications for medical schools he had been putting off since before the previous semester's finals. UCSF and UCLA were his top choices and he had sent off those applications earl but had procrastinated on the rest. It was possible that he would be hearing decisions on his acceptance in the coming weeks and knew his mother would not be pleased if he did not have back-ups. As there was a grocery store in the same parking lot as the post office he picked up some groceries including Mitchel's tea.

It was lunchtime by the time he returned to the apartment and finished unloading his tiny second-hand car. Feeling like a home cooked meal he texted his mother asking if she was home. No sooner had he locked his phone than it rang.

"Hello?"

He was surprised to hear Anakin on the other end. His brother usually volunteered on a Saturday. Anakin informed him that their mother had left her phone at home and was dealing with a delivery crisis at P6. When he asked if Anakin wanted to join him for lunch Anakin told him that he was grounded for the weekend. He listened to Anakin's tirade for a few more minutes before politely cutting his brother off and assuring him he would talk to their parents about how unjust they were.

Hanging up he dialed the number to P6. "Hello, can I speak to Piper?"

He was put on hold and could not help but smile when her heard his mother's exasperated greeting.

"Hey, Mom!"

"Chris!" There was a bunch of knocking sounds and a door being shut. "How are you, sweetie?"

"Fine. I was hoping I could have lunch with you," he trailed off.

"That's fine. I need a break from this place anyway. How does that seafood café by the Bay Mirror sound?"

"Great! I'll be about half an hour."

"See you soon," said his mother and she hung up the phone.

Always in the mood for a decent clam chowder Chris was very happy with the choice of restaurants. The only thing left to do was set up a meeting with his ex-girlfriend and friend. He started to dial Mary's number, got halfway through, and tossed the phone aside. There was no way he could face his mother after having it out with Mary on the phone, and he really needed to see his mother today. Gathering his wits about him he collected his phone from where it had slid off the table and grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter. Taking one look around the room he debated if leaving the groceries on the kitchen table was tactless of him. Mitchel was bound to get home before he returned from lunch, but it had been the Brit's turn to go shopping. The thought sated his conscience, and he continued out the door locking it behind him.

The drive to downtown was less congested than normal, and he arrived early luckily. It seemed all the cars that were not on the highway were in fact parked in the vicinity of the Bay Mirror, making parking a nightmare. Thankfully he was an excellent parallel parker and was able to squeeze his car into almost any tight spot. He left his vehicle and smiled at the gaping traffic officer who had been eyeing his whole parking job.

The restaurant was a tiny place with a very select menu. Most people would have to book a table months in advance, but his mother was not most people. She and the chef were old school friends who had both bonded over not being able to do what they real wanted. He spotted his mother already seated in one of the booths close to the kitchen. She had her back to him and was talking animatedly with another woman about the same age. Chris recognized the other woman as the wife of the chef, Mrs. Oswald. He maneuvered his way passed the crowd lined up around the door and indicated to the flustered waiter he knew what he was doing.

Reaching his mother's table he put on his best smile. "Sorry to interrupt."

"Chris! Peanut," greeted his mother.

Chris accepted the term of endearment graciously with a bow of his head. "Hi, Mom. Mrs. Oswald."

Mrs. Oswald smiled back at him from beneath a floppy brimmed hat. "Nice to see you again, Piper. Got to dash."

Piper waved goodbye to her friend before turning her full attention to her son. "How are you?"

Chris slid into the booth already half regretting his decision. He was not up to a full on interrogation of his life. "I'm fine and you?"

"I'm good." Piper picked up a menu and handed it over to him. "I assume you heard about your brother?"

"Anakin? Yeah, he gave me an ear full when he called about your phone." Chris left the menu on the table already knowing what he wanted.

Piper lowered her own menu. "Know what you are going to have?"

"The clam chowder. You?"

"I'm thinking the fish and chip."

Chris's eyes widened. "Wow, Chef Piper is going to slum it."

Piper laughed. "I'm not that snobbish!"

Chris chuckled. "And that's why the first food I fed myself was foie gras."

"There is nothing wrong with expanding your children's' pallets beyond chicken nuggets and ketchup."

"As I remember it was only Prue who liked chicken nuggets."

Piper frowned and nodded. "I suppose that's true. You and Wyatt liked hot dogs, and Anakin preferred cheese sandwiches."

"With the crust cut off," added Chris.

"Oh, of course," said Piper is mock seriousness.

Chris grinned. His mother always knew how to get him to smile. "So how's everything at P6?"

"A bit crazy honestly. Why Wyatt chose this week to take a vacation is beyond me."

"Really? You know he hates inventory week; he's been skipping out of it since you let him manage P6."

Piper cocked one eyebrow. "Is that so."

Chris nodded, but the waiter appearing to take their order interrupted further conversation. With the task of ordering out of the way Chris could tell his mother was ready to move onto heavier topics. He could think of no way to head her off in a different direction and was unsure if he wanted to. It may help to talk to someone.

Piper took a sip of her water. "Is this just a casual visit?"

Chris sighed and shook his head. "You remember that girl I was telling you about?"

"The one you refuse to let us meet? Yes."

Chris opened his mouth, but nothing came out. Instead his eyes started to water and angrily he wiped away the tears before they could fall. He was not foolish enough to think Mary was the love of his life, but they still loved each other. At least he thought they love each other. For his part it was love. He felt his mother sit down beside him and start rubbing his back, but he refused to look up at her. There was no way he was going to let his mom see him crying over some two-bit floosy.

Taking in a shaky breath he steeled himself and forced a smile. "Sorry. Sorry, just tired I think."

Piper patted him on the back but kept quiet. Chris shut his eyes again against the renewed desire to start crying. Everything had been going so well with Mary. Chris shook his head roughly and sat back up straight.

"I love you, Mom. You know that right?"

Piper nodded. "Of course, peanut. I love you too."

"Mary and I broke up—or—uh—will be broken up," breathed out Chris.

If the news shocked Piper she did not let it show on her face. "I'm so sorry. You seemed to be really happy with her."

Chris laughed hollowly. "She seemed to be happier with Johnny."

"She doesn't know what she's missing."

The waiter came back with their food cutting off further conversation. Chris no longer hungry indicated his mom should eat. They sat in silence while Piper ate and he stirred his soup. He was thankful his mom was not smothering him. Honestly he was not sure why he told her anything. This was a conversation he would ordinarily have with Wyatt or maybe Prue.

"Why do all the girls I fall for turn out to be…" he trailed off, putting down his spoon.

"Aw, peanut, you just haven't found the right girl yet."

Chris huffed. "Maybe."

Lunch passed with few words. Having said his piece, Chris now wanted to go home and lock himself in his room. His mom tried to comfort him, but he remained unreceptive. The wounds were still too raw, and she did not know Mary. Still he felt a tiny bit better knowing when he was ready his mom would be there for him. It made all the world of difference.

Chris got back home and walked through the front door to be greeted by a familiar but unexpected face.

"Nathan?"

The shorter man turned around. "Fuck, Chris?"

Mitchel poked his head around the corner. "Chris! You're back."

Chris closed the door behind him. "Um, how do you know, Nathan?"'

Mitchel stepped fully into the entranceway. "He's started work today."

"And Mitchel was kind enough to offer me some of his old pants."

"How do you know Nathan?" asked Mitchel, handing over a pile of khaki pants.

"He's a friend of Anakin's from therapy," said Chris quickly.

Nathan nodded in agreement. "Well, thanks, but I need to get going. My grandmother is going to freak if I'm late."

Chris opened the door and held his breath as Nathan slid past him. Once the door was closed again he turned to face Mitchel who had a quizzical look on his face.

"I'm missing something aren't I?"

Chris shook his head. "Nope."

Mitchel shrugged. "Coffee? I was brewing a cup for Nathan."

"Sure, please." Chris exhaled.

Nathan was an ex-charge of Anakin's and currently was one of Chris's charges. Mitchel knew nothing about magic, and Chris wanted to keep it like that. Having a charge show up unannounced was not helping keep magical and real life separate.

"So, what did you do today?"

Chris followed Mitchel into the kitchen. "Grocery shopping, post office, and lunch with my mom."

Mitchel picked up a steaming mug of tea and cradled it in both hands. "So you got your letters off than finally. I'm sure your mom was pleased."

"It never came up."

"Had better thing to talk about?"

Chris crossed his arms. "I told her about—er—last night."

Mitchel eyes light up in recognition. "Mary's a fucking whore, Chris. You can do way better."

"Can we not do this quite yet?"

The coffee finished percolating and Mitchel turned around to finish making Chris a cup. Chris slid into a chair at the small breakfast nook. He nodded his thanks when Mitchel joined him, coffee in hand. They both sat in silence, sipping away on their hot beverages.

"Sorry about this morning by the way."

Chris jerked, startled. "What? Oh, no worries."

Mitchel set his cup aside. "I'm just used to sharing a bathroom with my brother back at home. We constantly barge in on each other and think nothing of it."

"I said it was nothing."

Mitchel folded his hands. "You want to go out tonight?"

Chris shook his head.

"Right. Well then, I've still got those two horror movies Zane left here after our belated Halloween party. Want to give one of them a go?"

Chris shrugged.

Mitchel stood up. "Or do you want to be alone?"

Chris looked up. "I don't know."

"Movie it is then, yeah? You can always go lock yourself in your room if it's horrid."

Chris smiled. "I suppose."

"Everything works out in the end," said Mitchel as he reached over and squeezed Chris's shoulder.

Chris nodded his thanks perhaps Mitchel was right. Maybe, just maybe, things would work out in the end.