Author: HalfHuman
Title: Sifting Through the Rubble
Disclaimer: Charmed and all its characters are not mine, unfortunately I don't have that kind of power. :) The story is mine, so please R/R.
Author's Note: This is a short piece I did out of boredom and curiosity. It's set in the future-Chris' timeline. Its fluff, but please R/R, I'd really appreciate it.
She was gone, and he was alone. Chris Halliwell was just told that his mother perished 'doing her job.' When he was younger he didn't know exactly what that job was, but he always knew that it wasn't anything normal. Her, along with his two aunts would sneak away during the night and not return till early the next day. However, Chris just found out that this time, his mother hadn't returned. He was in his room, on his bed, staring up at his star filled ceiling. With his mother's death, all of his family' secrets were revealed to him, along with the harsh reality that he would have to face them on his own.
He peered at his ceiling, whose plastic glow-in-the-dark stars never failed to amaze him, and contemplated all that was revealed to him. Magic, witches, demons…him; It was just so mind-boggling! All his life, he was strictly a science and math person; one who rejected theories of extramundane beings, powers, and what not. Of course, he often did get lost in the stars above him, always wondering what could be up there, but the idea that the world he lived in was just as mysterious, adventurous, and evidently dangerous as that of the one above him shook every fiber of reason and logic within him. He turned on his side and couldn't resist the tears that trickled down his cheeks.
Wyatt seemed to be taking the news pretty well-then again, Chris always suspected his brother knew about the world invisible to him. Wyatt was quiet and strange and was much closer to his aunts than Chris was. Wyatt was also close to his father. Chris shuddered at the thought of his father. He never got along with him, why should he? He was never around. And his aunts? They were great, but he only confided in his mother, and now…well he didn't know.
Chris looked at the wall in front of him, across at his bureau. Through watered eyes, he struggled to take in all that he saw. The dresser's surface was covered with dirty socks, science fair trophies, medals, a microscope, a football, and a framed picture of him and his mother. It was an old Halloween picture. He was dressed as a cowboy and his mother had her arms around him, dressed in similar western attire. He looked up the mirror of his dresser and winced at his reflection. His eyes were puffy and red, hair tousled, and he was in yesterdays' clothes. He continued to look up his mirror and his eyes settled on a photo tucked into the side of his mirror' frame. He squinted his eyes and waited till the blur of his tears dissipated. He suddenly opened his eyes wide and whispered, "Grandpa." He delved in his thoughts and analyzed his current situation. He was never a quitter, and hated the state he found himself in. He forcibly quelled the anxiety, hatred, and sorrow that had consumed his every thought, and took a deep breath. Quickly, he sprung from his bed, snatched the photo from the mirror and ran out of his room. He headed straight to the nearest telephone because he didn't have to be where he was, and because he knew he was strong. She was gone, and he didn't have to be alone.
Fin