HALLIWELL 2024

"What are you doing?" Daryll asked, entering his bedroom.

Sheila, stepped out of the closet, arms full of clothes, and sighed at her son. She had been so busy with what she was doing she didn't realize what time it was. It wasn't uncommon for Daryll t come home and check on her during his lunch hour.

"I'm just getting rid of some of these old clothes, " she replied, tossing the stuff on the bed. "You don't wear any of it anymore. I doubt it would even fit you."

Daryll nodded his head knowingly, "Oh, I see. Just doing a little spring cleaning. Huh?

"Exactly!" Sheila said. Hoping her son was buying it.

"Why didn't you just ask me to go through the stuff. I mean…it is my stuff after all."

"I know it is sweety, but I didn't want to bother you. I can do it. It's no trouble."

Daryll walked across the room, plopped down on the bed, and glared at his mother. "OK mom. Let's just cut the bullshit. OK? You're collecting this stuff for Chris. Aren't you?"

Sheila rolled her eyes in frustration. "So what if I am?"

"MOM!" Daryll began, but Sheila quickly cut him off…

"Look Daryll, I helped raise that boy. I am not going to turn my back on him. You saw him the other day. He has nothing! He's living on the street for cryin' out loud!

"So let Victor worry about it!" He protested. "He's the kids grandfather."

"Oh don't be ridiculous Daryll, the man is 72 years old and he's already had one heart attack."

"That's not our problem," Daryll replied matter of factly.

Sheila stopped what she was doing and looked up at her son. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. When did her son become so cold?

"Daryll William Morris!"

" What?" He spat back…getting angrier and angrier with each passing moment.

"I don't know what's gotten into you, " She said as she starting to haphazardly fold the clothes that were sprawled on the bed. "You didn't used to be like this. You've changed and I don't think I like it. I don't like it one bit!"

"What changed is that my father died because of the Halliwells."

"You're father died because of Wyatt! Don't blame Chris for what his brother did. It's not fair."

Daryll took a deep breath and tried to calm himself before he continued. He hated fighting with his Mom. Before his father died, they hardly ever fought. Now it seemed like that was all they did. She didn't like the way Daryll was always fussing over her…protecting her. But what was he suppose to do? He loved her and didn't want to lose her too. She was all he had left. He could learn to live with her being angry once in a while, but he couldn't learn to live without her. Not yet anyway.

"Look…" he started again, when he had calmed down a bit. "I don't hate Chris. OK? I don't. But associating with him is just too dangerous right now? Everyone wants him. Demons, the police…Wyatt. Besides, you don't even know where to find him."

She raised her head and gave him a look, indicating that he was wrong.

"What? You know where he is?"

"I have a pretty good idea where I can find him" she said, smiling.

"Fine." Daryll conceded. "Tell me where he is and I'll bring him the stuff."

Sheila shook her head.

"Oh no. He's afraid of you. I'll go."

"He's afraid of me!" Daryll said with a chuckle. "The kid been fighting demons on a daily basis since he was in diapers and he's afraid of me!"

"He's intimidated by you," Sheila explained. "You're mean to him. You make him uncomfortable. I'll go."

"Like hell you will." he informed her.

"Excuse me…" she began but then decided to try a different approach. Changing the subject. "Aren't you supposed to be back at work by now?"

Daryll looked down at his watch and realized his mother was right.

"Shit!" Daryll muttered, getting up from the bed. " I have to get back. But we aren't finished talking about this. I don't want you going anywhere until I get back. Do you hear me?"

She ignored him and continued to fold her pile of clothes.

"Mom!"

"Yes, I heard you." She said calmly.

"Good." He walked over and kissed him mother on the cheek before walking out of the room.

"I said I heard you, " she said out loud, but to herself, "But I didn't say I listen to you.

Meanwhile, across town, two police officers were sitting in their cruiser, which was parked along the side of busy city street. An older officer in his late forties, sat behind the wheel, keeping himself busy by working on a report from a previous incident. While seated next to him, his twenty something, rookie partner was getting restless.

"This is ridiculous! Shouldn't we be doing something?" the rookie demanded of his partner.

"We are doing something, " the older officer replied without looking up from his notebook. "At least I'm doing something. You're just complaining."

"Well this is boring."

"Kid, You gotta learn to relax a little. Enjoy the peace and quiet while you can."

"Well I just feel like we should be doing something," the rookie spat back defensively. "It beats sittin' here waiting for something to happen."

The older officer chuckled to himself before closing his notebook and turning to address his young partner.

"Well, what did you have in mind?"

"Well…" the rookie began, "There have been reports of witches squatting in the abandoned "P3" Club up the street. We could check that out."

The officer considered this for a moment before responding with a firm, "No."

"Why not?" the rookie whined annoyingly. "We're talking about illegal witches here. If we don't bust them, eventually someone else will and why should they get the credit?"

The officer gave him a disgusted look.

"That's really all you care about. Isn't it? Busting innocent kids so you get your commendation from the Captain, not to mention the great and glorious Wyatt Halliwell."

"They are criminals," the rookie insisted. "And I don't think the Captain would appreciate your attitude."

"I don't give a rats ass to be honest with you," the officer fired back, unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the car door. "I don't care what the "new law" says. I'm not about to go on a witch hunt just to appease some punk kid, who thinks he can rule the world. I'm going to get some coffee. Are you coming?"

"No."

"Fine. Suit yourself."

The officer slammed the car door and made his way across the street.

The rookie sighed and punched his fist against the side of the door in frustration. He hated his partner. Why did he have to be stuck with an "old timer", when all of his peers where out having all the excitement. They should be checking out the reports of witches, not sitting in their cruiser, twiddling their thumbs. Any other patrol would be all over the situation. But it was no secret that his partner had a soft spot for witches. Which is probably the reason why he volunteered to patrol this particular area of the city. So he could protect them. Just thinking of it made the rookies blood boil with anger. Why the captain put up with him, he would never understand.

As the young officer sat in the car fuming with anger, he spotted a young man walking down the street. As the young man walked quickly down the street, with the hood of his sweatshirt covering his face, the rookie suddenly felt a surge of excitement.

"Hey now kiddo," he said out loud to himself as he unbuckled his seatbelt. "Where are you rushing off too? Might we be heading to P3?"

The officer got out of the car and quickly made his way across the street. He had to run a bit to catch up the young man, but within seconds he was right behind him. Removing the baton from his belt, he used it to tap the young man on the shoulder.

Startled, the boy quickly turned around and looked both surprised and disturbed to see the officer standing there. Unfortunately for both of them, the officer didn't recognize this particular boy as CHRIS HALLIWELL.

"Is there a problem officer, " Chris stammered nervously.

"No problem," the rookie replied with a smirk. He could see the intimidation in the young man's expression and he thoroughly enjoyed it. "I just have a few questions for you. Do you mind stepping over here." He said, directing Chris off the sidewalk and into the opening of nearby ally.

"Umm…sure." Chris said, trying to be as cooperative as he could. "Did I do something wrong?"

"I don't know yet." The officer teased, slapping the baton in the palm of his hand menacingly. "Why don't you tell me what your up to?"

"What I'm up to?"

"Yeah, you know…it's the middle of the day…No school for you? No work?"

" I…Uh…I'm just walking."

"I can see that," the rookie replied. "But see, we've been having a lot of problems with runaways and witches in this neighborhood. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that. Would you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Chris replied, trying to remain calm.

"Where do you live?"

"Where do I live?" Chris repeated and then instantly regretted it. Why do I keep repeating everything he asks! He thought to himself. Why don't I just stamp "witch" on my forehead and make it easy on him!

"It's a simple question!" the officer snapped at him. "Where…do…you…live."

"I understand the question! I just don't understand why you're questioning me! I didn't do anything!"

The officer, having lost his patience, slammed Chris across the face with his baton, sending him flying back against the ally wall. As Chris slid down the wall, trying hard not to black out, the officer rushed at him.

"I'm questioning you because I feel like questioning you!"

" I didn't do anything." Chris cried out, wiping the blood that was now gushing from the gash on his forehead.

"Shut up and stop back talking to me!" the officer yelled- kicking Chris in the ribs for emphasis.

As Chris lay on the ground, gasping for breath and writhing in pain, he could hear the quick footsteps and booming voice of another officer as he approached.

"What the hell are you doing?"

The elder officer had seen what was happening as he exited the coffee shop and quickly ran to step between his over zealous partner and the defenseless kid, now sprawled out on the ground. He knelt down to check on Chris before turning back to his partner…

"Are you out of your mind?"

"He was sassing me!" the rookie insisted. "I was just teaching him a little respect!"

"A little respect?" the officer boomed and then stood up so he was right in his partner's face. "You idiot! Do you have any idea who this kid is?"

The rookie looked down at Chris and then back at his partner before responding…

"No."

"That would be my brother." A stern voice from behind informed him.

The rookie quickly spun around and found himself face to face with Wyatt Halliwell, who had just orbed in behind them. The color quickly drained from the rookies' face-he was terrified and stood there speechless.

The older officer, quickly stepped up to defend his partner. Regardless of how he felt about him, he couldn't stand by and just watch what was about to happen without at least trying to help the boy. He was, after all, just a kid. A stupid kid…but a kid none the less.

"He didn't know Mr. Halliwell."

"Yeah…" the rookie stammered frantically. "I didn't know. I swear I didn't know!"

Wyatt said nothing but continued to stare icily at the young man, who had just beaten his younger brother.

"It was my fault," the older officer continued. "I should have been paying closer attention. My partner…he's….he's just a little over zealous some times. He wants so badly to be a good officer. It won't happen again. You have my word."

Wyatt stopped staring at the petrified rookie and turned his attention to the senior officer.

"Oh, I know it won't." Wyatt replied calmly and flashed him an evil smile.

"Wyatt! Don't! Please don't do it!" Chris cried out.

But before he could even finish what he was saying, Wyatt whipped back around and used his powers to blow the rookie officer up.

"No!" the senior officer cried out and dropped to his knees. In tears, he reached down and placed his hands on the pile of bone dust that had once been his young partner.

"Let that be a lesson to you officer." Wyatt said. "You need to exhibit more control over your junior officers. I would hate for this to happen again."

Having said that, Wyatt turned to Chris, who was still on the ground- now sobbing uncontrollably. Seeing his brother in such anguish, Wyatt's demeanor immediately changed. He knelt down and gently reached out toward his younger brother.

"Chris…"

"Don't touch me!" Chris screamed, jerking away from him. "You're a monster! How could you do that?"

Wyatt looked confused.

"What do you mean? He hurt you!"

"He was a human being! Probably doing what he thought YOU wanted! He was an innocent kid!"

"Chris, I'm sorry! Look…you're hurt. Here, let me help you." He begged, reaching out to heal his brother.

Chris slapped his hand away.

"I said don't touch me! Just stay away from me! I hate you!"

And with that, Chris orbed away leaving Wyatt standing there in a stunned silence.

To be continued…