OK, I lied, the Wyatt and Chris interaction will be in the next chapter...Sorry! I had planned it for this chapter, but I changed my mind. To be honest this is kind of a filler chapter, setting the scene and all that, but cross my heart and hope to die that the next chapter wont be!

Thanks to everyone who r n r'd. Hugs and Kisses to you all!

Please keep reviewing!

Chapter 12: Fears of Meeting

The sword is just lying there.

Alone, defenceless, unprotected.

It seems all too easy to just stretch out my hand and close my fingers around the gilded hilt. Way too easy.

I hesitate, my outstretched fingers eerily casting claw-like shadows on the marble ground. Maybe it's a trap. After all, He wouldn't be so careless as to leave it unguarded, would he?

My mind is telling me it's not worth it; even if I can take Excalibur it won't guarantee me my life. It's not meant for me. It's meant for him.

But then again, who says it's not meant for me?

I move closer, my hand inching closer and closer to the hilt. I can feel a strong pull from it. Part of me is yelling that it's just the magic of the sword, that it wants to be used again, to taste blood again. But yet…

The thought is unfocused in my mind, barely in my consciousness, but I can still sense it. A voice of sanity, of reason. Telling me not to trust my instincts, the sword is not for me, it will corrupt me.

For, after all, the sword follows its master.

Decisively, I withdraw my hand.

I will not take it.

I turn away swiftly, before I loose the strength to do so.

I take a step forward but stop, frozen to the ground. I had heard something. A metallic click. Like the sound of a sword against stone.

I spin around.

My vision is filled with the unforgiving steel of the sword. I stand hypnotised as it sweeps towards me; in his hands.

No!

I scream silently, but no sound can come out of my mouth.

The familiar sensation of coldness comes over me, numbing my senses.

My vision disappears; I am surrounded by darkness.

It is too late.

---------------

The clamour of the guard's baton rapping against his jail cell, jerked Chris to a painful awakening.

The last traces of the dream still swum around in his head, as his eyes grew used to the darkened room he had been kept in. It was the dream again…

It wasn't the same as the other he had had but it ended the same way, as had Prue's dream. Getting stabbed by Excalibur.

"Hey!" the demon guard threw an energy ball at the metal bars, the sparking immediately catching Chris's full attention

"What?" Chris muttered sullenly, getting to his aching feet.

"Lord Wyatt wishes to see you now," the demon informed him, unlocking the door with a wave of his hand, "Come."

The demon reached a clawed hand into the cell and roughly grabbed Chris's arm, pushing him in front. "Walk." he commanded shortly.

Chris glanced down at the metallic band encircling his ankle. It was a new invention of Wyatt's apparently, a clever mix of magic and technology. It prevented the wearer from using magic, generating a small electric current to shock the wearer if any magic was attempted; the shock in proportion to the magic. After a few painful attempts at orbing, Chris had eventually given up on trying to escape and decided he might as well get some sleep. However the dream seemed to have robbed him of any rest he had tried to get and now he was feeling tetchy and downright pissed off. 'Not the best of moods to meet my evil older brother in.' Chris thought wryly.

Chris tried to keep his head held high as the demon guided him through the maze of corridors and staircases; aware of the gazes he was drawing from the demons, who all seemed to be very organised and businesslike.

Eventually they reached a wide, important-looking, wooden door, guarded by four immense brute demons. Chris, recognised one of them as the demon who had led him to his cell last night.

Kezlar cast his gaze over Lord Wyatt's brother, and noticed with satisfaction that there were no obvious signs of mistreatment, besides his dishevelled appearance, which could all too well be down to a night in the cells.

He knocked heavily on the door, 'which was apparently built strong enough to withstand a brute demon's strength' Chris noticed.

Chris hissed his breath through his teeth as a authoritative voice rang out, "Come in."

Kezlar opened the door and gestured for Chris to proceed into the room, an anticipatory grin on his face.

Seeing no profit in disobeying, Chris entered the room with a feeling of foreboding.

Wyatt was sitting regally behind the desk a cold smile on his face.

"Welcome Chris."

---------------

The reporter stared solemnly at the camera, his black suit and tie appropriate for the news. "It has been two days since the apparent take-over of San Francisco by forces unknown, and there is still, as yet, no news from inside the city. The barriers erected by the hostiles have been impenetrable to the army and attempts from other UN forces have also had no success."

The camera's spanned the city in the backdrop, huge tanks and marching soldiers completing the scene, before switching back to the reporter.

"All terrorist organisations have denied involvement in this attack and rumours are flying about the perpetrators. The most persistent theory being that hostile aliens have attacked the city, although there has been no evidence that this has any basis in truth. However other theories are beginning to take hold, and in some cases taken to the extreme. It has been reported that in central New York, two young women have been burned alive by youths convinced they were witches and were responsible for this attack on San Francisco. This theory of witchcraft has been very popular in certain areas, especially due to the magical appearance of the mysterious barriers and the equally strange disruption of all radio and television signals."

"This has prevented all contact with the city, leaving many families unable to speak with their loved ones, sparking fears that many have been killed. This fear is not ungrounded as mere hours before the communication shut down reports were flooding in of a spate of citywide murders."

The television began to show earlier footage of the coverage of the murders, and having already seen this, Prue pressed the mute button on the TV and sat back, staring blankly at the white walls of the room she had been given at Sanctuary.

"Where are you Chris?" she whispered worriedly.

The Elders didn't know where he was and he hadn't returned from going to stake out the city hall. Prue wished he was safe, but a voice in the back of her head told her that he had been captured or killed. Why else would he not be here?

"Please, Chris," she begged to the ceiling, "I don't want to lose you too."