PERPLEXING

Wyatt had barely spoken to Melinda the entire way back to the manor. When he dropped her off she had jumped out of his car almost before it stopped moving, anxious to be away from him. She'd run up the front steps and slammed into the manor. Wyatt had let her go.

Wyatt never liked going to bed angry, he'd always made a point of resolving conflicts so that his sleep wasn't disturbed. He hadn't bothered to last night and he was paying the price. He rolled over to look at his alarm clock. 2:00 am read the digital face. Great, he'd gotten about a half hour's worth of snooze time since the last time the damn clock had mocked him. His silky pajamas felt rough against his skin so he took the top off. Lying back down in just the black bottoms, he resolved to speak with Mel first thing in the morning…much later in the morning, as he rolled over and tried to go back to sleep.

He groaned, remembering that he'd promised Priscilla he'd help the family move later today. He was suddenly grateful that it was mostly cleaning and painting the family needed done as they had a lack of material possessions.

(X)

Chris flicked on the lights in Wyatt's room. Wyatt awakes abruptly at Chris' rude entry. Sitting up he displays the white tank he wore to bed the night before. "Chris, what the hell?" He exclaimed. Looking at the alarm clock, he's a bit surprised to see that the face reads 1:48 am. He shakes his head to clear it and decides against 2am rationalizations. "I'm not having a great night's sleep." He said. Rubbing his sleepy face with his palm he adds, "I need to apologize to Mel."

"Wyatt, you apologized to Mel four days ago," Chris broke off, "That's not why I'm here." Chris took a deep breath. He sat on the edge of Wyatt's bed, "Wy, Darryl just called. The Bennetts are dead."

"Dead?" Wyatt gasped in shock, "How?"

"Darryl said arson is suspected, someone started their house on fire."

"Chris," Wyatt spoke in confusion, "The Bennetts don't have a house. They live in a hotel."

Chris shot Wyatt a look of concern, "Wyatt, are you feeling okay? We helped them move Monday."

"Today is Monday, Chris," Wyatt reminded his brother.

Chris shook his head in denial, "No, Wyatt, today is Thursday." He looked at his older brother sadly, "I just don't know how to tell Mom."

Sure, Piper was a good person, but why would Chris dread telling her about the death of the Bennetts? Wyatt questioned himself, completely confused. Nothing since waking up was making any sense!

"Well, I'll go with you," Wyatt offered, hoping that things would snap into place soon. Chris nodded and left the room silently so that Wyatt could dress in private. A few minutes later, Wyatt was dressed and ready.

The blonde haired Wyatt entered the loft's living room to see Chris' grieved expression. He put his hand on his brother's shaking shoulders, "Chris, we'll work through this," he promised.

"Wyatt! How can you take this so calmly?" Chris demanded hotly, "How can you not worry about how Mom will react when she learns the truth?" His face broke, "Not to mention Aunt Phoebe." He looked at his composed brother in anger, "How can you be so damn cool?" The tears fell from his green eyes making them even brighter than normal.

Shocked, confused and a little hurt by Chris' outburst, Wyatt tried to calm his brother. "I am upset, I'm just still surprised, I guess," he tried to play it off. No sense adding to Chris' distress by admitting that he was entirely clueless.

Chris readily accepted the explanation. He squared his shoulders with a sigh. "Let's go to the manor," he suggested.

Wyatt nodded in agreement and opened the door and stepped out…into a house he'd never seen before.

"Good!" Priscilla called enthusiastically, "I was hoping you'd show soon. Chris has been here for a few hours." She headed towards Wyatt and said quietly, "He told me you'd had an argument with your sister last night and were feeling out of sorts today." She patted his arm confidently, "Don't worry," she smiled, "If I know anything its sisters. And the little fights we get into with them. I'm sure things will be better tomorrow." A disembodied voice called for her. "I'll be right there A..Drew," she smiled brightly at Wyatt, "I think they're still painting the bedrooms, upstairs." She nodded towards the stairs, indicating that he should head up and then she shook her head, "I had to remind Pace that fast forwarding the work would be personal gain." She winked before she turned and walked towards the area her husband's voice had come from, leaving Wyatt staring after her in confusion.

"What the HELL?" was all he said.