Twenty-Four.

Chapter Five

"Chris, eat your food." Chris frowned and glared down at the hospital tray, maybe it was because he was the son of a chef, and was a pretty good cook himself, but hospital food always looked more terrible than any story or stand-up routine ever suggested but his mother was staring at him with that look of hers that he was fairly sure would send The Source of All Evil running for cover.

So, he knew that he didn't have a chance and so he picked up his plastic fork and stabbed it into the very dry meatloaf and forced himself to chew it, even though it felt like he was chewing on Styrofoam. He managed to force it down and then moved on to the very limp green beans and he prodded them with the fork before forcing them down as well.

"Okay, that's enough," Chris said as he pushed his tray away from him and while his mom frowned at him, but Chris matched her gaze and crossed his arms over his chest, and it seemed that his mother knew better than to pick a fight about that and so she sighed and reached out to cup his face.

He didn't want to hurt her, he had never wanted that, but it felt wrong, it felt false, and he had to pull away from the touch, even though the look in her eyes made him feel like a monster he couldn't find it in himself to apologise, to reach out for her hand.

But he didn't, there was too much between them now and so he simply looked down at his hands and tried his best to pretend that he didn't hear his mother's breath hitch.

He really wished Wyatt and Tam would hurry back from the canteen already.

"So," Chris said in order to try and move past the awkwardness. "Any of my tests come back yet?"

His mom cleared her throat, and he tried to ignore the tears in her eyes, before she spoke. "Most of them and it looks like you're in the clear, whatever happened to you has to be magic then. So, hopefully we can get you out of here pretty soon."

God, that sounded good. He really wanted to go home and sleep for in a bed that actually felt it was built to support a human back but he wasn't going to count his chickens as he was fairly certain that the doctors would find any excuse to keep him in for more tests considering that what had happened to him was still something of a mystery and they would want to find out what the answer was, and he really did not want that.

"I should call Aunt Phoebe and ask her if she can make sure that my room's ready for me," The thought of a real bed, his own bed, was so tempting that for a moment he considered orbing to it right now but he held back from doing that, he wasn't going to risk exposing magic just because he wanted to get out of here but it was a bit of a fight all the same.

His mom cleared her throat and Chris turned his head to look at her, she looked sad and he hated that he was the reason for it but he knew what she was going to ask him and he really didn't want to have to go through this with her, but he had to and so he pushed himself up and he took in a breath as he waited for her to speak, it seemed that the conversation was never coming until finally it did.

"You know, your room at the manor is all ready for you. Your bed's made and I was going to make lasagne and a hot chocolate lava cake on the day you came home," the sound of real food sounded like bliss, and it was two of his favourite meals of course to try and tempt him to come back to the manor, to try and make her feel better, like she hadn't replaced him in her heart with a version of himself that didn't exist anymore.

That thought sent a surge of bitter resentment through him, and he needed to remind himself not to lose his temper because when he lost his temper things tended to go flying, and unlike most people the things that he could send flying didn't have to have a weight limit. "No, thanks. It sounds so great, and I really appreciate the thought, but I'm really settled in at Aunt Phoebe's at the moment. I'd prefer to go there."

His mom's bottom lip wobbled slightly but she didn't allow it to stay on her face, and Chris felt even worse than he had before he said anything, but he wasn't going to change his mind, if he had to recover then he wanted to recover in a place that he actually felt comfortable in and the awful truth of the matter was that he had not felt comfortable in the manor for a very long time.

"If that's what you want Peanut," His mom whispered and the silence that filled the room was so awkward that it was painful, and Chris had to make sure that his walls were securely up as if he let them fall then he was pretty sure that the intensity of whatever his mom was feeling in that moment would crush him, he needed to be cold. It was how he was going to survive.

Thankfully Wyatt and Tamora chose that moment to walk back into his room, both their arms filled with loot from vending machines. "Toss me a chocolate bar."

"Ever heard of a please?" Wyatt asked as he took the seat on the opposite side of their mom.

"Ever heard of how you should treat someone in a hospital, come on hand it over?" Chris said, holding out a hand towards his older brother and Wyatt let out a heavy sigh and threw his brother a chocolate bar, Chris caught it easily and unwrapped it and honestly the sound he made when he finally got a hit of that chocolaty goodness probably bordered on the obscene.

There was a silence then, only broken by the occasional sound of teeth chewing food or the tearing of a packet of food and while he would hardly call it comfortable it wasn't uncomfortable either.

It was when the door to his room opened that an uncomfortable chill rolled up his spine, he wasn't sure why, but he felt dread hatching in the pit of his stomach as both of his aunts walked into the room, Aunt Phoebe had a smile for him and came over to press a kiss to his forehead and Aunt Paige reached out to ruffle his hair and both actions should have made him feel better but for some reason it just made the dread that much worse.

His hands were shaking and when he looked up, he was alone, the room was cold and dim and dark, and Chris was alone, and he knew that if he called out then no-one would answer him. He had never felt more alone than he did in that moment.

Chris climbed out of the bed and walked out into the corridor, the ward was silent, and he walked down the corridor with the only sound being his footsteps echoing in his ears.

He tried to orb, but the magic didn't come to him. He was apart, cut off from everything.

Lost.

He kept walking, the hallway didn't seem to end no matter how far he walked. He stopped walking when he heard something behind him, turning around to face it.

There was a shadow there, just standing and it hurt Chris's eyes to look at it. He had no idea how long he stood there starring at it, it might have been only moments, or it might have been for a thousand years he had no way to tell. It was only when the shadow moved closer to him that Chris woke from the daze that he had been in, stumbling back.

The shadow came closer, and as it did the shadow seemed to gain shape and form, a man's form the same height as Chris and that thought sent another bolt of dread through him and he turned and ran from it.

But it didn't matter how hard he ran, he never seemed to get anywhere, and the corridor never ended.

A hand grasped his shoulder, cold as ice and Chris knew he had no choice but to turn around and face it, face him.

And when he turned all, he saw was green eyes staring back at him, the same as his.

"Chris! Chris!" The voice jolted him out of his shock, and he was back in his bed, his mother, aunts, brother and cousin were all standing over him, all of them looking terrified.

Chris swallowed, his throat burning and suddenly all he wanted was something to drink. "What happened?"

It was his mother who answered him, she had gone pale, and her eyes were wide. "You...I don't know, you were just staring ahead and then you started to shake like you were having a seizure, Chris what was that?"

Chris did not have any answers for her, for any of them. Outside he could hear rushing footsteps, no doubt Doctors and Nurses coming to respond to the sound of his vitals going crazy and Chris suddenly found that he wanted to be anywhere else, anywhere.

And so, he orbed away.

He was on top of the bridge, one of his favourite places in the world and sat down and let his legs dangle over the edge, the lights of the traffic down below shinning like gold in the darkness. He could hear his family calling for him to come back, but he didn't. He couldn't.

All he could do in that moment was sit there and shake and lie to himself that it was because of the cold.

And not because he had seen his own eyes staring back at him.

End of Chapter Five