CHAPTER NINE

Remembering what happened the last time he tried to wake up their houseguest, Clark approached with caution. Chris lay on his stomach, one arm flung over the side of the bed, half of his face smushed against the pillow.

"Chris," he half-whispered. "It's time to get up."

Chris stirred a little, groaned, then settled back down again.

"Hey, Chris," Clark said a little louder. "Up and at 'em."

Chris stirred a little more and mumbled, "Five more min's, Mom."

Clark grinned and moved a little closer. "Chris!" he exclaimed. "Wake up!"

Chris shot up so suddenly, Clark took a quick, startled step backwards.

"I'm up," Chris said groggily. He turned over onto his side and squinted at Clark. "I'm up. You didn't have to yell."

"Uh, right." Clark rolled his eyes. Then, relieved he wasn't flying across the room again, he let out a grateful sigh. "Well, breakfast is almost ready. So, if you want to eat, you better come down."

"Okay, okay." Chris yawned and rubbed his eyes. "Give me five minutes and I'm there." Lowering his hand, he looked around the room. When his eyes fell on the window, they opened a little wider. "Hey, the sun's up. I was expecting your dad to yank me out of bed before the crack of dawn."

"Yeah, well, he decided to take easy on you the first day. But don't worry. He'll work you extra hard to make up for lost time."

Chris gave him a long, wary look. "You know, you're liking the idea of me doing manual labor way too much. Why is that?"

Clark just grinned and shrugged, even as he thought about the question. He wasn't usually this open with people he'd just met. Not enough to joke around with, anyway. But Chris was different. Clark's secrets—the big ones—were already out in the open. Getting to know someone new without having so much to hide was a relief. Plus, he liked the guy.

Mumbling something under his breath about morning people, Chris sat up and started to toss the blankets aside. Then, pausing, he gave Clark a look. "Can a guy get a little privacy, here?"

"Sure." Clark rolled his eyes again and walked out the door. As he jogged down the stairs, he smiled. Having someone close to his own age around might be kind of fun.


For breakfast, Martha made pancakes. Lots and lots of pancakes. And, seeing how much Clark ate all on his own, Chris could see why.

He wasn't surprised the Kents ate breakfast together. But it was something Chris hadn't had in a long time. At home—in the present, anyway—family breakfasts were rare. Everyone was busy getting ready, hurrying out the door. But, in the future, Piper had insisted on family breakfasts. It was her way of making his and Wyatt's lives more normal…and making up for Leo's frequent absences. Still, he remembered those breakfasts fondly. Sometimes, it was just him, Mom and Wyatt. Others, Aunt Paige and Aunt Phoebe were there, too, along with the cousins. And Grandpa even dropped by sometimes.

Chris smiled at the memories. But the smile slowly faded. He wondered if Wyatt (the innocent, toddler version of the present, not the adult, power-hungry version of the future) was okay. If they were all okay. Mom and Dad. Aunt Phoebe and Aunt Paige. He'd been gone less than twenty-four hours, but a lot could happen to the Charmed Ones in that time. And, in her current condition, Mom wasn't exactly in top fighting form. What if something big happened? What if something really powerful attacked the Manor, and he wasn't there to help?

What if he couldn't find a way back?

Shaking his head, Chris closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He couldn't think about this. Not now. Worrying about home, missing his family, would just distract him. He had to stay calm, keep a clear head. Believe he could get back home.

"…okay, Chris?"

Hearing his name, Chris looked up to find Martha watching him expectantly. He realized she'd asked him a question, and he hadn't heard a word.

"Excuse me."

"I was saying we should go through Clark's and Jonathan's old things and put together a temporary wardrobe for you."

Trying not to look appalled, Chris glanced from Clark to his father, and back again. There was a lot of flannel there. Which worked for them, sure. But it wasn't really Chris's style.

You don't have a style, he could almost hear Aunt Paige say, which made him smile again.

"Uh, that's okay. I've got a little money on me, which seems to be the same here as back home. All I need's a thrift store, and I'm good."

Martha gave it some thought. "Okay, there's one in town. We'll go this afternoon." She turned to Clark. "Isn't it time for you to be leaving for school?"

"Oh, yeah," Clark said. Stuffing another forkful of pancakes in his mouth, he stood up. Grabbing a backpack off the floor, he slung it over his back. "See you guys later," he called as he hurried out the door.

"Come on, Chris," Jonathan said. Standing, he smiled. "It's time for you and me to get to work."

Silently, Chris groaned. As he imagined a day of grueling physical labor, he wished there was an easier way to earn his keep. Like fighting a horde of hungry swarm demons or something.

"So, who is this mystery guest of yours?" Pete asked as he sat down at the lunch table.

"Who, Chris?" Clark stalled. Nervously, he cleared his throat. "He, uh, his mom and my mom are old friends."

"And he just…showed up on your doorstep last night?" Chloe asked. Shaking her head, she sat down next to Pete. "Weird."

"I guess." Clark shrugged and tried to avoid their eyes. "I don't really think he planned the trip. It just sort of…happened."

"He do this often?" Chloe asked as she pealed the lid off a container of yogurt. "You know, travel halfway across the country to pop in on unsuspecting old friends of his mother's?"

"I wouldn't know. I just met him yesterday." And Clark tried not to squirm in his seat. He hated lying to his friends. Even if the lies were harmless.

"Cool," Pete smiled. "And, if another total stranger drops by for a visit, we'll have four for a decent game of basketball. So, how long's he gonna be around?"

"Until he decides to leave, I guess. He's sort of playing it by ear."

"Hmmm, sounds interesting." Chloe's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "From what you've told us so far, we can conclude he's spontaneous, adventurous, a risk taker…"

Clark gave her a surprised look. "How can you conclude all that from what I told you?"

"Well, the guy hops in his car…"

"He doesn't have a car," popped out of Clark's mouth.

"So, he hops on a plane or a bus. Or maybe he even hitchhikes." The last possibility really seemed to excite her for some reason. It probably appealed to her own adventurous nature. "And he travels all the way from California to Kansas, with no guarantee that he'd have a place to stay when he got here. Sounds like a risk-taker to me."

Clark frowned thoughtfully. He didn't know whether Chris was a risk-taker or not, but he sure was cool under pressure. He accepted the truth about Clark without batting an eye. And he was handling his situation way better than most people would. He was in the wrong dimension, cut off from his friends, his family, his home. Why he wasn't freaking out was anyone's guess.

Although Clark had already realized Chris was good at hiding his true feelings. In fact, maybe that was what Chris's nightmare was about. His fear and anxiety over being stuck in the wrong reality.

"So, what's he like?" Pete asked.

"Well, like I said, I don't know him that well. But, so far, he seems pretty cool."

Doing chores around the farm wasn't as hard as Chris thought it would be. In fact, considering the type of stuff he usually did, doing stuff that was so mundane was a nice change.

That afternoon, Martha took him to the local version of the Salvation Army. It wasn't as big as the ones Chris went to in San Francisco. The little shop was tucked between a sporting goods store and an antique shop.

It had been a while since a mother—his or anyone else's—had taken Chris shopping for clothes. On the one hand, it was a little embarrassing. On the other, it filled him with nostalgia. His mom took him to buy a new outfit for his fourteenth birthday party. It was the last shopping trip they took together before Piper…

Well, anyway, it took less than an hour for him to pick out a few pairs of jeans, and some decent shirts.

"Chris," Martha said as they approached the cash register. "Wouldn't you like to spend a little more time picking things out. I mean, there's no hurry."

"No, I'm done. I'm not really big on picking out clothes." Quick and painless. That's how he liked his shopping trips to be.

Arms full of packages, they left the thrift store and started towards the truck. When one of his shopping bags started to slip, Chris looked down to grab. And he saw something lying on the sidewalk, glistening in the sun.

"Whoa, what's this?" Chris bent down to pick it up. It was a silver necklace with a heart-shaped pendent. And the chain was broken.

"What is it?" Martha came to stand next to him. "Oh, that's pretty. Whoever lost it must be frantic." As she reached for the pendent, her hand brushed against Chris's.

Suddenly, a light flashed through his mind, like an ice pick slashing through his brain. Groaning, he dropped the bags and grabbed his head, squeezing his eyes shut because it felt like they were being stabbed with needles. And emotions tore through his brain like cold, razor-sharp explosions. Worry, desperation, helplessness. And....

"Chris!" Martha grabbed his arm. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Fear," Chris gasped. As the pain and emotions faded, he forced his eyes open, stared down at the necklace clutched in his hand. "Whoever owns this necklace is terrified." Expression grim, he looked up at Martha. "Right now."

(TO BE CONTINUED)