Of All the People

Chapter 8

By teal-lover

Summary: Wyatt reflects on the events after Chris Crossed and decides to do something about it.

Rating: PG13, T

Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed, just borrowing, promise to give them back when done, don't get any money for this.

AN: short chapter, I know, but I was working on finishing my other story. Now that it's done, I can spend more time on this one. I think next chapter, I'll show the family's efforts in trying to find Chris, and also more Wyatt/Chris interaction.

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Chris sat alone in the dark, the candles having long since burned out by the displaced air of Wyatt's shimmer.

He thought it was a good thing death didn't bother him, because if it did, he would probably be freaking out as he sat next to his Aunt Prue's final resting place.

He knew that it probably wouldn't work, but he concentrated and tried to orb anyway. "Damn it!" he cursed again. Wyatt was many things, but a liar wasn't one of them. He even noted that what his brother said about the feeling was even true. When he tried to orb, he no longer felt like this body was charged to go while nothing happened. Orbing had always been second-nature to him, but he now felt the absence of the ability and his body no longer missed it.

He would have loved to orb out of there, but he knew there was no way he was getting out of there of his own free will. At least, not unless he decided to go evil.

But then again, Wyatt had said the potion wouldn't turn him. He recalled his words, 'It won't turn you, Christopher. It's designed to simply make you more aligned to your family's interests...whatever they may be." But what did those words mean exactly? Did that mean he would still be able to fight its effects, or would he loose all free will if he surrendered to it?

He decided to weigh the pros and cons. On the one hand, he had already been given a dose, and he wasn't quite sure if it was even reversible or not. And if it wasn't, he'd be stuck without orbing powers. And his major offensive powers that he had just decided to use again would be shot. He may need them if he ended up having to go up against Wyatt again.

The potion would solve the transportation problem. He could get used to shimmering. But on the other hand, the demons he dealt with to get answers would certainly trust him more if he could shimmer vs. orb. And maybe he'd even pick up a few new powers like Wyatt had. Fireballs. He started to smile in anticipation until he caught himself worriedly.

What if the potion was already scrambling his brain? Since when has he ever wanted to throw fireballs or shimmer for that matter? Then he reasoned sadly, since it could mean the difference between life and death. He tried to think if he had the sudden urge to murder innocents. "No", he mumbled with satisfaction. And he still even wanted to save his brother. Though he was disappointed that the older man didn't feel the same, at least—on a consistent basis.

He sighed loudly before jumping down off the marble centerpiece and began his search for the food. Christopher grimaced when he saw what his brother considered to be a meal. "Peanut butter and jelly?" he scoffed loudly. He hadn't eaten that since he was a kid. If his brother was going to give him a last meal, then at least he could have made it a stake or something.

Having nothing else, he set about making a sandwich to quell the sudden hunger. He mixed it up like his mother used to do for him before spreading it on the bread. His mother wasn't the only one who used to do that for him. When Wyatt took over as his guardian, he also took over many of the routines that Chris had become accustomed to in order to make it easier for him to adjust to not having the oldest Charmed One around.

He brought the sandwich to lips and prepared to take a bite, when a memory suddenly brought a smile to his lips.

"Chris, come and eat dinner!"

As the young brunette orbed downstairs, he expected to find a hot meal awaiting him. Instead with what he saw, he glanced at his brother strangely for a moment as he sat down to the table. He had definitely smelled food cooking earlier, but one look at the burnt results scraped into the trash can told him how successful his older brother had been in his efforts. He shrugged and picked up his sandwich.

Wyatt shuffled his feet a bit, a little self conscious at his lack of cooking skills. He avoided looking at his brother in case he saw the disappointment in his eyes while he scooped the mixed up spread onto another slice of bread. "Forget this!" he grumbled in frustration before flicking his wrists and conjuring a full course meal.

Chris frowned as his brother raised his fork to his mouth, fully intending to take a bite of the hot meal. He flicked his own wrists and knocked it down to the plate.

"What did you do that for?" he complained.

"Personal gain, Wy. You know mom wouldn't approve. I don't mind eating the sandwich. Really—I like it."

Rolling his eyes, Wyatt groaned, "You can't eat peanut butter and jelly every day! And grandpa can't come downstairs all the time to cook. He's too sick to do it anymore. He can barely get out of bed."

Chris replied hopefully, "Well maybe dad can—"

"Dad doesn't give a damn about us. If he did, he would have been here after Aunt Phoebe died."

Green eyes stared down at the food despondently, not quite sure if he believed his own words, "Well, grandpa will get better, you'll see. The Elders wouldn't leave us with no one."

His own anger over the situation almost made him lash out at his little brother and tell him the truth—that their grandfather—their legal guardian—was near death. He had tried, but the Elder's hadn't allowed him to use his healing powers to cure an ailment that was 'natural and self-inflicted' they said. 'He shouldn't have smoked those cigars' they said. 'What good were those healing powers', he thought bitterly, 'if you couldn't use them to heal?'

'But if Victor just held on for another month', he hoped, he would turn 18 and be able to be Chris' legal guardian. He wouldn't allow the state to come in and separate the two. If demons couldn't do it, he certainly was going to allow some stupid-bureaucratic-mortal-government to do it.

He stopped himself just as his prior words held on the tip of his tongue. He didn't want to upset the boy anymore than he already was. Instead, he mumbled with a false smile, avoiding his brother's eyes, "Yeah, sure he will. But in the mean time, you need a hot meal once in a while. So how about we compromise? You'll eat the sandwiches at every meal EXCEPT dinner—that I will conjure?"

Chris seemed satisfied. He nodded with a small grin before floating the hot meal into the trash. He took a bite of his sandwich and answered Wyatt's unspoken look of confusion. "Starting tomorrow."

Wyatt shrugged and picked up his own sandwich…

Chris couldn't help the grin that escaped. Wyatt had cared for him far too much for him to believe that he didn't mean anything to his brother. If he could only manage to get Wyatt to remember times like those, there was no way the older man would go through with his new plan.

Besides, his brother's simple choice of a meal told him that Wyatt did care in his own way. He wouldn't have attempted to make him comfortable with something so familiar otherwise. He wondered if the older witch was even aware of how much the small gesture meant. Probably not, he thought.

He set about making a second sandwich and held off on eating his own.

When Wyatt shimmered back in, he held out the food while his brother accepted it hesitantly and returned to a position in the corner. As they shared a silent meal, Chris ate happily as he recognized the first step to tearing down that hardened wall his brother had erected around his heart.

TBC…

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