Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed, or any of its characters… I just wish I did.

Author's Note: Here begins Chapter 9… which has a flashback in it that ended up being a lot longer than I had planned originally, but I like how it turned out. Also in this chapter, the moment that some of you have been eagerly waiting for: the appearance of the infamous Daughter of Nightmares. Dun dun dun! I had a little bit of trouble with some parts of this chapter, namely trying to figure out exactly what the doctor should say to Chris's parents… so I think that's the weakest part of the whole thing… it's also the shortest part of the whole thing and (Sorry!) very generic. I may go back eventually and fix it, as in actually write more there. I was just having a very bad case of writers block for that scene and I didn't want it to hold me back from the rest of the story. I hope ya'll can forgive me.

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"Who's Wyatt?" Alwynne asked Chris as she plucked a piece of hay from the bale she was sitting on and twirled it between her fingers. She was looking at Chris with those haunting blue eyes of hers.

"My big brother," Chris explained, standing up. He frowned as he looked around. It was just him and Alwynne, but for a bit there he'd faintly sensed Wyatt. The facts that it was gone again now, just made him realize the gaping absence of that familiar presence all the more. "…For a second there, I could have sworn he was here. Or almost here."

Alwynne shook her head, "I didn't sense anything change."

"It's kind of hard to explain," Chris said. When she looked up at him dubiously he smiled, "Yes, harder than your little explanation about the World of Dreams. He was here though, I know he was."

"Well, if he was, he's not here now," Alwynne said, "And we need to concentrate on waking you up before she gets here."

Chris turned around and set his jaw stubbornly, "No. What we need to concentrate on is how to get both of us out of here. I'm not just going to leave you here. If you think I am, then you're severely mistaken."

Alwynne got up, "She'll kill you. She will kill you here and then you will die and you will never wake up again. Don't you understand?"

"Yeah, yeah, she's going to show up and attack me with nightmares, I get it," the teenaged witchlighter said, resting his hands on her shoulders, "I get it, I do. Thanks for worrying about me, but I get enough of that from my family. And if I'm in the hospital right now, which I'm pretty sure I am even if time does pass strangely here, then they're all plenty worried enough for the both of us about my well being. Now, tell me more about this place and about her so that I know what I'm up against and can come up with a plan to get us out of here."

Alwynne let out an exasperated sigh, "I'm trying to save your life!"

"And I'm trying to save yours," Chris returned.

"She won't kill me," Alwynne said, "If she were going to do that she would have a long time ago."

"No, but she'll keep you locked up here in the World of Dreams so that you can't wake up," Chris told her, "I'm not going to leave an innocent stuck in a prison when there's a chance they can be saved. Now, start talking. How did you make the scenery change and… my clothes?"

Alwynne sighed realizing she was fighting a losing battle with Chris on the point, "I just… think about it."

"I figured that out earlier, but how come I can't change them back?" Chris asked.

"I've had more practice," the girl told him, "Tis' mind over matter and power of thought."

"Power of thought, eh?" Chris raised an eyebrow at her and wrinkling his nose with concentration tried to change his clothes again. It felt like someone - he figured it was Alwynne - was fighting against him changing them. It took an effort but after a second it worked. It happened. His shirt changed to his favorite tee and his jeans became a bit baggier, while his shoes melted back to sneakers. Chris rubbed his temples and opened his eyes to smile triumphantly at Alwynne.

She blinked, tilted her red-gold-haired head at him and looked at him impressed.

"Now will you quit trying to convince me to abandon you?" Chris asked.

"Care to try something bigger?" she asked, gesturing to the barn, "Just think about where you want to be…"

Chris shrugged and drew a breath, thinking. The Manor. He was thinking about that when he saw the color drain from Alwynne's face and a shadow fall across the pair of them. Shadow…? Chris thought, but… he hadn't seen a shadow since he'd been here. The hairs on the back of his neck were rising and he got the sense that someone was looking at him. It was different from the feeling of being watched that he'd felt the whole time. Very different. Alwynne backpedaled a few steps.

"Revisiting old memories, Alwynne?" a woman's voice asked from behind Chris, "…and I see you've made a new friend."

Chris swallowed hard and turned to look over his shoulder.

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Melinda Prudence Halliwell was born April 20, 2007, the eldest daughter of Phoebe Halliwell and her Cupid husband Coop. Being a little more than two years younger than Chris and a little over four years younger than Wyatt, she was almost never included in anything they did unless the whole family was involved. It wasn't that she wasn't close to them. She loved both of her cousins dearly and they had hung out together nearly every Saturday since she could remember.

Chris though, she was closest too since they were closer to the same age and spent so much time joking together about how ridiculously perfect Wyatt always had to be. Actually Mel loved all of her cousins dearly, which she guessed included her Aunt Paige's children even if they were younger than her. Melinda's two little sisters, she supposed that she loved too, but some times they could be so annoying. Like their constant questions because they didn't get the picture of what was going on with Chris being in the hospital. She was glad that her grandfather had decided to keep them and Aunt Paige's kids at the Manor. They weren't old enough to go back into the ICU to visit Chris anyway, but she was.

So, here she sat in the Visitor's Lounge with her mother, father, Aunt Paige, Uncle Henry, and Uncle Leo while her other Aunt and Wyatt were back with Chris. She had her book in front of her again, staring blankly at the pages until the words began to blur together. That was what she had been spending most of her time doing. She had no idea what the book was even about, she hadn't read a single word of it yet, which wasn't a good thing since she had a report due on it for her English class by Monday. The Cay by Theodore Taylor and Melinda hadn't read one single word of it.

Her mother and Aunt Paige got up to step out to the rest room or maybe to go get some more coffee. Mel turned another page in her book to keep up appearances of actually reading it. Coop cleared his throat next to her and when she looked up at him he had an eyebrow raised. She wasn't fooling anybody, least of all her father.

Melinda looked away from her Dad when she saw who was standing in the doorway. Wyatt nodded in her direction and Melinda closed her book, without marking the page and handed it to her Dad. It wasn't like she needed to remember where she was in the silly thing anyway. Leo started to get up too and then sat back down when he saw her getting up.

Melinda blinked and started to sit back down, "It's okay, Uncle Leo, you can go back and see him…" Chris was the man's son after all.

"It's okay, Mel," Leo said, sitting back down to continue his conversation with Henry.

Melinda looked at him uncertainly, and then walked towards the door. She squeezed Wyatt's arm when she walked past and turned down the hallway to walk into the ICU, preparing herself for seeing Chris again.

When Melinda walked through the doors of the ICU, her Aunt Piper was finishing a conversation with one of the nurses. Mel walked towards Chris's room, glancing into the one next door as she passed it. No one had been in there earlier today, but there was someone visiting the girl laying in the room now. A. O'Bruadair. Not someone that Melinda knew. The raven-haired woman sitting at the girl's bedside turned to look at Melinda standing in the doorway and the young teen sucked in a breath. Embarrassed for being caught staring, she hurried into Chris's room.

Piper rejoined her a minute later and took her seat. "I hope you don't mind, Mel, but I've been reading Chris his favorite book--"

"That's fine Aunt Piper," Melinda reassured her, sitting down in the other chair and curling her legs under her while she looked at her older cousin laying in his hospital bed. She pursed her lips together, looking on at him sadly and wondered if this was how the woman next door was feeling about her family member laying in Intensive Care.

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An hour later, just as the nurse had said, Dr. Hathaway stopped by to speak with Piper and Leo. The news wasn't exactly what they had been hoping to hear. They had been hoping for good news that the doctor expected Chris to wake at any time. Instead they had been informed that their son may not wake from his coma according to their experience with other patients with similar GCS ratings. Piper had returned to the waiting room to break the news to her other son and to the rest of their family, but she wasn't going to give up. No matter how much the news had shattered her spirit.

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The rest of Saturday went by in a blur of everyone continuing to take turns going back to see Chris, armed now with the knowledge that there was a chance that he wouldn't wake up from his coma. Wyatt felt ill. He should have tried to heal Chris when he had the opportunity and forget about worrying about the consequences of exposure. If the Cleaners came and erased him for saving his brother, then at least Chris would be okay.

Wyatt went straight up to his room when they got back to the Manor without even saying goodbye to his aunts, uncles, cousins, or even his grandfather. After having heard from his mother and father that Chris might not wake up he hadn't wanted to talk to anyone. His jaw tightened and he closed the door to his room with his telekinesis hard enough to rattle the trophies and pictures on his wall. This was his fault. Wyatt knew it was a completely irrational thought. It could have happened to any one really. A sports accident could have happened to anyone on the team. Only this wasn't really an accident, that asshole from the other team had done this to Chris. Wyatt's jaw tightened.

"UGH!" he growled, balling his fists up at his sides in frustration. Why couldn't the doctors do anything?! Crash! Wyatt jumped when the picture frames on his wall shattered. Wyatt blinked and lifted his hands up to look at them. Great, just great…

"Wyatt?!" his mother's worried voice called from downstairs. He could hear footsteps pounding up towards him.

"It's fine!" he shouted, "I'll clean it up!" He ran his hands through his hair in frustration and set about picking up the mess that he'd made. At least it gave him something to do.

About two hours and one trashcan's worth of effort, Wyatt flopped onto his bed to stare at his ceiling and think about his brother.

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A little over a year ago…

Wyatt pushed open the door to the room that he was sharing with his little brother. This was the last week that they were going to be sharing a room. They had finally broken their parents down just last week into letting them get separate rooms and he and Chris had helped their Dad clean out the room next door to move Chris into. The moving was going to happen Saturday. Bright and early if Wyatt could help it. Chris hadn't been quite as thrilled about the idea, but after tonight, Wyatt imagined his little brother would be all for it.

Chris was in the room and he was awake. Wyatt could sense him in there as well as the turmoil of emotions going through the younger teen. Mostly betrayal, anger, and annoyance. Wyatt had a pretty good suspicion that they were directed at him. Wyatt checked his watch, ten 'til ten. Piper stuck her head out of her bedroom door to look towards him, being sure that both of her sons had returned by their curfew. He winced once she had ducked back out of sight. That meant Chris hadn't said anything to her about what happened. Wyatt didn't know if he should be appreciative or not of Chris's decision for silence.

Stepping into their room, sixteen-year-old Wyatt shrugged himself out of his letterman's jacket and flipped on the light. Chris was already in his bed and had taken the time to stack up his boxes to build a wall in the middle of the room to separate his bed from Wyatt's. A pile of soaking wet clothes lay creating a puddle in the center of Wyatt's bed, causing the older witch to make a face. Chris's clothes from the party. "I deserved that," he mumbled, kicking his shoes off into a corner.

Chris didn't say a word, he was rolled onto his side, under his covers doing his level best to pretend to be sleeping. Wyatt sighed and crossed over to the dresser to pull out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. He pulled his sweater off over his head and dropped that over to the side, "I know you're not asleep."

Still, Wyatt's younger brother stayed quiet. Wyatt ground his teeth in frustration and turned to grab the cold, soggy sweater and jeans that lay on his bed. He dropped them with a heavy thud into the laundry basket. He pulled the drenched cover from his bed next, followed be the sheets and dumped them on the floor creating a small amount of messy chaos in his half of the room. "Are you just going to ignore me? It was a joke Chris. You didn't have to take it so personally."

The silent treatment continued while Wyatt changed into his pajamas and eyed the large wet spot in the middle of his bed, left from the clothes that had been sitting there. Wyatt sighed and lay down close to the edge of his bed, on his side so that he was facing the wall of boxes Chris had constructed. "I've got to say, you've achieved a new level of maturity tonight, Chris. A wall and the silent treatment. What do you want me to say?"

Wyatt heard Chris shift in his bed, but couldn't see him for the boxes in the way.

"Will you just say something to me?" Wyatt asked. The lights in the room turned off and Wyatt knew Chris had used his telekinesis to do it. Wyatt sighed and rolled onto his back, looking up at the glowing stars on the ceiling that Chris had glued up there when they had been in grade school. "Fine. You don't want to talk to me, I'll just talk to myself."

Wyatt raised his voice, spouting off the names of constellations that were laid out on their ceiling as they came to mind, "Big Dipper. Little Dipper. Andromeda. Capricornus. Canis Major. Canis Minor. Lynx. Hydra. Cassiopeia. Draco. Gemini. Leo. Leo Minor. Orion. Cancer. Pegasus. Aries. Phoenix--"

"You're a puerile asshole," Chris's voice interrupted Wyatt's loud recitation of constellations.

Wyatt rolled back onto his side and looked at the wall of boxes again separating him from his brother, "He speaks."

"You could have stood up for me."

"I wasn't even in the room Chris!"

"No, you were too busy making out with Madelyne Birdsong in the kitchen while your buddies set me up and dumped ice cold water on me. All you saw was your pinheaded friends laughing and making a joke out of superstar Wyatt's little geeky freshman brother. Don't tell me you didn't know anything about it Wyatt and don't tell me you didn't laugh your head off after I left."

"I didn't!"

"All you've been talking about since this school year started was how much of a pest I am and how annoying it is that I'm always around. Well, you'll get your wish. I'll leave you and your juvenile playmates alone from now on," Chris said in a hurt tone, "The joke was on me. You and your friends got me good. Bravo to you."

Wyatt sighed, "That's not what I want Chris. I don't want you to leave me alone, I just want some space. I didn't tell them to do that to you. I didn't even know they were planning anything."

"Oh, please, spare me. Go back to naming constellations if you're just going to lie to me. That was the only reason I got invited to that inane waste of a social gathering and you know it."


"No, you got invited because you're on the J.V. football team," Wyatt protested.

Wyatt heard Chris snort and could hear him rolling over again. The older witch ground his teeth together and sat up in his bed. "Then tell me why I was the only freshmen there if it wasn't a premeditated effort to completely humiliate me?"

"I don't know, maybe their parents wouldn't let them go. It is a school night," Wyatt said, frowning into the darkness. Chris made another 'hmpf' sound. "Can we take this wall of boxes down so that I can see you while you're accusing me of conspiracy?"

One of the boxes from the top (thankfully an empty one) sailed at Wyatt and smacked him in the head before he swatted it away. "Be my guest," Chris grumbled as the rest of them toppled over. Only the first had been directed at Wyatt.

"I didn't know they were going to do that Chris," Wyatt said honestly when he saw Chris leaning on one elbow looking at him. "After you stormed out, I told Jason and the guys never to do anything like that again. And that if they touched a hair on your head they'd be answering to me. They thought it was just a harmless prank, but trust me. They won't mess with you again. I made sure of that."

Chris looked at Wyatt horrified, "What'd you do that for? I don't need your protection Wyatt!"

"You just said you wanted me to stick up for you! Make up your mind!"

"You just made it a billion times worse," Chris groaned out in exasperation. The younger teen rolled over on his side with his back to Wyatt, this time covering his head with a pillow. "Ugh! You'll never understand."

"I'm trying to understand!"

"Goodnight Wyatt."

Wyatt frowned, got out of his bed and tripped over boxes to get into Chris's, sitting on top of his little brother, "No. You explain to me what I'm missing."

"Get off me. It's fine Wyatt," Chris's voice muffled into the pillow, "You've only ruined my entire life for the rest of my high school existence that's all. Chris Halliwell, the boy who needs his big brother to fight his battles for him. Go to bed and leave me to suffer my impending mortification in peace."

Wyatt scratched his head, still missing the point, "How did me telling them to lay off you ruin your high school existence."

Chris let out a harassed sigh and moved the pillow, glaring at Wyatt in the dark, "Because, genius. From now on, the only reason that your friends aren't going to mess with me is because you told them not to. I just wanted you to back me up, support me. Tell them they're jerks and follow me out. You know, be my wingman? Not take over the whole dogfight! I can fight my own battles, Wy, I just need you to be my reinforcements." Finished speaking his peace, Chris rolled back over.

"Oh," Wyatt said softly. He got up and made his way back to his bed and stared up at the stars. A few seconds into the silence later, Wyatt said quietly, "I'm sorry, bro."

"Goodnight Wy."

"Chris…"

Chris sighed, "What is it now?"

"What does puerile mean?"

Chris laughed, "Look it up in the morning."

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Wyatt closed his eyes for just a second, blocking out the sight of those stars. He felt his throat getting tight. He was wondering if he was ever going to hear his brother's sarcastic comments again. When he opened his eyes, he had to blink away the moisture shining there and burdened with the thoughts and fears the Chris might not wake up again the silent tears began leaking down the side of Wyatt's face. He stared up at the ceiling and the glowing stars that were now blurry; it was going to be another long night without sleep. But, Wyatt figured, Chris was getting enough sleep for the both of them.

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Author's Note: I don't have any more words. My brain is now officially fried for the night. The only thing I think I can manage at this point is this: If you read, please review. Even if it's just to let me know who you are so that you're not just a number in my 'hits' tally.