Chapter Two

Disclaimer: Don't own. Don't laugh at me. (SIGHS)

After having a quick dinner, Travis decided to turn in for the night as well. He couldn't stop thinking about how peculiar this kid was, though. Was he really that cocky, or did he know something the rest of the world didn't? Was there some way to avoid the witch hunters? Did he really think they could be stopped?

A positive thinker like the kid—that's what the world needed right now. Too bad positive thinkers were usually the first ones to die. Travis had every intention of squashing the quality out of the kid if given the opportunity, because he really didn't want to see the kid die like he'd seen Alliance members die. It was a terrible death, being burned at the stake.

Frowning, he tried to recall everything the kid told him. Six and a half, named Chris, lived "around." Pretty sketchy for a little kid. Travis wondered if he were an orphan or something. He looked pretty ragged in an oversized red t-shirt, ripped jeans and shoes so torn up they could hardly be called shoes anymore.

He looked sad, too. Travis knew the kid was hiding something cleverly, but the kid couldn't hide his sadness effectively in front of him. As a squadron leader in the Alliance, he'd seen every kind of sadness there was left to see and he was only twenty-five.

Just after he turned off his lights, he saw the kid's lights flick back on down the hall. As quietly as he could, he walked across the carpet and stood by the door to the kid's room, trying to make sure he wasn't going to loot him and leave. Travis had booby-traps for this of course, but you could never be too sure if they worked. Sometimes it was a demon staying overnight. Sometimes it was a six-and-a-half year old. You never knew.

However, the door never opened. Travis heard the kid gasping for air, his breaths shaky and jagged.

"Abby," he muttered to himself, taking a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry."

After a moment or two the lights flicked back off. Travis knew the kid wasn't asleep, though, so he waited five minutes or so before finally returning to his room and falling back into bed.

Secrets. Everyone had them these days.

Chris. Chris, don't let them take me.

"Abby?" Chris called out. "Abby, is that you? Where are you?"

I'm over here! Help!

Chris' ears strained to hear where the noise came from. All around him was pitch black; not a shape was visible in the perpetual darkness surrounding him. Abby was in trouble and there was nothing he could do to help.

"Abby…where…" He stumbled, falling over something. He couldn't get up. He was trapped, and Abby was being taken…again…

CHRIS!

Chris jolted awake and whirled around, trying to figure out where he was. Frantically he reached for the lamp by his bed to flick it on, but didn't find it. In a burst of fear he threw his hand at the opposite wall, eventually finding the light and turning it on.

The room was painted with dark green walls and white sheets were on the bed underneath him. He was at the stranger's house, but it didn't matter. The lights were on and it wasn't dark anymore. Chris was in control.

His heart pounded in his ears and he gasped to himself, remembering the voice of his little sister so vivid in his imagination. It had only been a dream. Abby wasn't in trouble.

Abby couldn't be in trouble anymore. Abby was dead.

Tears sprung into his eyes as the terrible scene plagued his memory again as it did every night. Abby, the only good aspect of his life he could truly remember. The reason he had brushed everything off at school. The reason he'd disregarded Leo not caring and all the attacking demons. She was gone forever. If only he'd been there as it happened…if only he'd been able to protect her…

"Abby…I'm sorry."

After she had died, everything had fallen apart. Piper, Wyatt, Chris and Abby used to all be so close. The picture perfect family, even without Leo. Then Abby died, and everything changed.

It had been a year and a half. She'd be five in a couple of months, Chris realized.

Someone outside shrieked. An alarm rang outside, and Chris winced as he heard the hunters take another victim into custody. He wished he could orb. He wished he could control his telekinesis. But he was worthless, so it didn't matter.

Sighing, he flicked off the lights and shut his eyes tight. At least the dreams only happened once a night.

Chris woke up to the morning light pouring in through the windows and he smiled slightly to himself. It was nice waking up and not seeing Wyatt asleep across the room. It felt safe. And this was even better—usually when Wyatt wasn't there, Chris was sleeping on the concrete in an alley.

He sat up and picked up his backpack, checking the watch with the broken wrist strap he kept inside the front pocket. It read 6:30am.

I want you out the first thing in the morning. Got it?

Chris made up the bed and flicked the lights off. Quietly as he could, he made his way down the stairs and slipped on his shoes. He reached for the doorknob and tried to turn it.

It was locked. He reached his hand up to unlock it and received and electric shock that threw him backwards and into the bottom of the wooden stair.

He took a sharp breath, suppressing a cry. His head felt fuzzy for a moment but he managed to right himself and stand back up.

"Stupid door. Rigged. Should've figured," he muttered under his breath, stretching out his back and trying to make the pain go away.

Based on this, he knew that all the windows would be rigged, too. Carefully he scoped out the first floor for a possible escape route. He didn't want to have to wake up Travis, especially now when he couldn't be certain whether the man was a demon or not. There was magic in this house. Chris was alert enough now to feel it.

Finally his eyes rested on the cat flap on the door. It was pretty small. Not big enough for anyone that would pose a threat, but just small enough for Chris to squeeze through at his already small stature. Chris took a step closer to inspect it.

"Don't even think about it, it's protected too," Travis warned from the top of the stairs.

Chris gave him a blank expression. "Oh. Thanks. Well, I'm ready to go now. Thanks for letting me spend the night." He masked the newfound fear of Travis and gave him the most neutral expression he could manage to muster under the circumstances.

"You don't have to leave just yet," Travis offered. "Are you hungry?"

Chris was too panicked to leave to be hungry. He shook his head. "Thanks, though."

"No problem, kid. Drop by anytime," he offered. "I may have seemed a little grouchy last night, but…well, you know, times like this."

"Times like this," Chris repeated, nodding.

"See you around?"

"Maybe," Chris shrugged. "Probably."

"Bye, kid," said Travis, opening the door for Chris.

Chris nearly breathed a sigh of relief, but managed not to. "Bye," he said, giving Travis a small smile before escaping out the front walk.

Okay, maybe freaking out was a little irrational. But now Chris knew something for sure. Travis was hiding something…and the Halliwells definitely weren't the only witches on the block anymore.

Chris looked at the stretch of pavement ahead of him, slick with the still pouring rain. Make that ten miles worth of blocks, he thought to himself irritably as he began the trek home. At least there was someone else—which meant that there were others.

Yet Chris felt no need to hurry and tell anyone. In fact, he was pretty sure that this tidbit of information he'd keep to himself.

Phoebe groaned as she woke to the alarm clock.

"You're listening to 98.6, your choice for the best music mix—it's currently eight o'clock in the morning on this rainy—"

She slammed the alarm off and yawned loudly. The meeting she and Cole had attended for the Bay Mirror had lasted until really late the night before, and now she had to get right back to work. Lucky Cole. As a freelance reporter, his hours weren't necessarily assigned; some days he worked nonstop, but some days like today he got to sleep in.

Phoebe looked beside her in bed but saw that Cole had already risen. The rich scent of coffee wafted up the stairs and she smiled to herself.

"Aunt Phoebe, Uncle Cole said to tell you breakfast is ready," said Wyatt, popping his head into the room.

"Thanks, sweetie. Tell him I'll be just a minute."

"Sure thing."

Phoebe stared at the door as her nephew bounded back down the stairs. At eight years old, there was something…well, different about him. She couldn't quite place her finger on it. There was no doubt that the boy was much more mature than any other of the boys his age; in the Halliwell manor, you really couldn't help but be that way.

But it was more than mature. Sometimes Wyatt could finish off demons just a little too well.

She shrugged it off. This was not the time to be worrying about that. Why couldn't she just learn to simplify things and live life as if it were normal for once? She should just go and sit down and eat breakfast like a regular person would.

Blocking Wyatt out of her mind, she dressed into her work clothes and armed herself with her trusty laptop and cell phone and headed down the stairs.

"Mmmm. Pancakes, Piper?"

"Not me," Piper laughed. "Cole."

Phoebe raised her eyebrows when she saw her husband half-covered with flour, a batter-caked spatula in his hand. "You look incredibly sexy cooking pancakes, hon," she joked.

"Mommy said the 's' word!" Paisley gasped.

Wyatt rolled his eyes. Phoebe wished her empath abilities worked on her family.

"That was just the effect I was going for," Cole teased. He handed her a plate. "There you are. Cherry jam, just like you like 'em."

She kissed his cheek. "Thanks, Cole." He grinned at her.

Immediately Phoebe knew something was wrong when she sat down. Scoping the kitchen, she saw Paisley harassing Cole, Wyatt sitting quietly wolfing pancake, Piper reading the paper…

"Where's Chris?"

Piper tensed. "Not here."

Phoebe's eyes widened. "Piper! Not again!"

Piper slapped the paper down on the table in a huff, folding it up. "What? He was misbehaving. He needs to learn," she justified.

"Piper, no," Phoebe shot back. "You're wrong. He's six years old! You can't just go kicking out little kids! He could be…oh my god, Piper, you don't even get it, do you? Haven't you seen what those hunters are doing? They're ruthless. They'll kill anyone."

"Chris is just a kid. They don't care."

"They've killed babies. Even pregnant mothers."

Silence.

"C'mon, Paisley, let's get in the car. We'll go look for him," Cole instructed. He gave Piper a hard expression. "Are you coming?"

Piper hesitated, her eyes darting from the driveway to the kitchen.

"No. He's fine. You'll see. This whole fuss is all about nothing."

The phone rang and everybody jumped. Paisley's plate splattered on the floor.

"Calm down," Phoebe said, taking a deep breath. She picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey, Pheebs, c'est moi."

Phoebe heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh my God, Paige, you scared us."

"Pourquoi?"

"Don't you 'pourquoi' me, missy," said Phoebe. "I don't understand a word you're saying!"

"Fine, fine. It's just, I look weird speaking English like this from a payphone."

"Handle it. Chris is missing."

Paige gasped. "What happened? Not again."

"I don't even know. Probably something stupid. This is really getting out of control." Phoebe turned around to glare at Piper. "I really have to get to work, though. Cole and Paisley were going to go look for him. Could you…?"

"No problem. I'll orb right over," Paige promised, hanging up the phone. In a few minutes she appeared in a flurry of orbs. "Sorry…had to find a dark alley somewhere," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Right. Could you just orb to Chris really fast?" said Phoebe, antsy to get to work on time but reluctant to leave before Chris was found.

"Sure." She closed her eyes. "Uh…"

The front door opened and shut closed.

"…looks like my work here is done!" Paige laughed. "I gotta get back to work. Clothes don't design themselves. Call me if anything's up, 'kay, Pheebs?" She hugged her older sister, waved to Cole and kissed Wyatt and Paisley on the cheek.

"You could—" Paige orbed out. "—stay for breakfast," Phoebe finished.

Phoebe listened as Chris mounted the steps and heard his bedroom door shut quietly behind him. She sighed, wondering to herself where he was all night. Where he was practically every night. It seemed like he was never around anymore, and who could blame him? Phoebe only had a foggy idea of what happened in the manor during her absence, but a part of her really didn't want to know.

"I'll see you all tonight. Bye," said Phoebe, grabbing her various technological tools and heading out.

Not much of a cliffie, but I gotta go to school lol! Thanks for all the fabulous reviews! It makes me happyyyyyy!