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: It's set in the future-Chris' timeline. I didn't intend on continuing this story but apparently I did leave a cliffhanger of some sort. I don't really know where this is heading, please R/R though. J
Chapter 2
He was shaking uncontrollably in a corner of his grandpa's living room. Chris Halliwell was crouched, staring at his hands in disbelief. Earlier that day he had went to the park nearby to see if he could make some friends and play a game of football. Unfortunately, his plans had gone awry. His Grandpa had some business to take care of, so Chris ventured out into the neighborhood, unbeknownst to him that the guys he approached to ask for a game of ball were the neighborhood bullies. All Chris could remember was his invitation to a game and then he convulsed as a memory of him running down the street flashed before him. The guys were chasing him, they had attempted to mug him, and he was running as fast as he could. He was scared, he didn't know the area, didn't know how strong the guys were, or exactly what they'd do if they caught him. His heart was pounding in his chest as the August sun bore down on him. It was all playing in slow motion; sweat rivulets running down the sides of his face, the pounding of his worn-out Converse against the hard pavement, the wind screeching in his ear, and the taunting threats of the three boys behind him-gaining on him.
And that's when it happened.
Just as Chris turned a sharp corner he felt a slightly cool rippling sensation overtake his body, and he felt as if time itself had stopped or that perhaps he really was dreaming. But he wasn't. Once the sensation stopped he found himself still in motion, and ran right into a wall of some sort. He toppled to the floor with a loud thud, and had to wait a few seconds before he could open his eyes; he hit the wall hard.
When his head stopped spinning and throbbing, he was able to comprehend what he had done. Chris had just orbed.
It had been a week since his mother's death and he had found refuge from the world of magic at his Grandpa's house.
But he couldn't hide.
Chris was briefed on the magical world and warned about his "powers" before he left to his grandfather's. Apparently, when his mother died, his aunts thought it best to "unbind" his powers as well as his brother's because of potential dangers and the fact that the "Charmed Ones" were history. Chris didn't take his aunts seriously, and thus stood shocked in a corner staring at his hands as if they weren't really there.
"What the hell is this mom? Why?" he yelled through clenched teeth and watered eyes. He looked up at the ceiling as if expecting a response, regretting the tone of voice he used in his harsh inquiry. There was nothing.
Chris stayed in that corner, waiting for his mother to respond, even if she was angry, even if she scolded him- anything, but nothing happened. He stayed there, on the floor, and tried not to cry. He remembered his mother, he remembered his strength, he remembered his grandpa, and so he got up, and dusted himself off. He couldn't cower away and hide. He knew other people had it worse than him, and with this realization he set a new goal for himself: to master his orbing ability.
-O-
Yeah, it was there; that incessant reminder that he was different, but he couldn't ignore it. His magic was like a scar that couldn't be concealed because he knew that it was part of him, and that he just had to deal with it. So he embraced his magic; he accepted his new identity. Chris: the half white lighter witch, son of Piper, the newly lost Charmed one.
-O-
Chris was heading back home the following morning because in two days school was starting school. "High school…" Chris thought amazed, he hadn't thought about school at all. He had been nervous about entering high school earlier in the year, but now he thought nothing of it; it was just something else to get used to. He had almost forgotten that there was an "outside" world that summer. Chris had kept to himself and only spoke with his grandfather since his mother's departure. His aunts respected him when he refused to answer their calls, and his brother… well Wyatt was always a stranger to Chris.
"Mom, I'll stay strong," Chris whispered as he ran up stairs to gather his belongings.