A/N: I finally updated!!! (Don't all faint at once coz then you wont be able to read the next fantabulous chapter!) Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, I'm so sorry it took me this long to write this chapter, but I'm at uni now so have less time to sit down and write fanfiction! Don't worry though, I haven't abandoned any of my unfinished stories, just might take me a while to get around to them all!! On the plus side, this is the longest chapter so far, so hopefully I'll be forgiven!
Much love. Please R and R.

Chapter 14

Chris groaned as some semblance to consciousness dragged him out of the blissful abyss. The ground was cold and hard beneath him, and his bruised limbs shrieked in protest as he shifted slightly, lifting his head from its painful position resting against the stone floor. His head ached. His whole body ached. The unrelenting cold and damp had worked its way into the very fibre of his being and sapped him of any strength he might try to yield, and still the circle of smooth metal hung heavily around his ankle preventing him from using any magic.

Two days… it was hard for Chris to believe it had only been two days since his capture. Two days of relentless questioning, two days of merciless propaganda. Chris just wanted to give in, join Wyatt, if that was what it would take to stop the torture. Dimly Chris recognised the magic that was at work, stretching the time out, magnifying his pains. If he could force himself to think rationally about it all he could put it in perspective; he knew he was strong enough to cope with this. He had been hurt before, pain was nothing new. And the talk? A few sarcastic remarks were all it normally took to counteract any doubts demons consistently tried to worm into his subconscious.

But here…? Something was different. He couldn't fight anymore. Everything was screaming at him to give in, to give up. 'Join Wyatt and make this all stop' the honeyed voices whispered, 'Things can be as they used to be, you can be true brothers again, inseparable, unstoppable…'

"No." Chris spoke out loud, his voice sounding weak and pathetic even to his own ears. "No!" he persisted again, but instead of the strength of will he was trying to inject into his voice, all he could hear was an overlay of a whine, a pleading tone. "No." he whispered, curling up into a ball and closing his eyes again. Chris wished that sleep would come to him again but the voices continued, insidious and cunning. 'Join him, and it can all be over.'

---

Five floors above, Wyatt was seated in his office, a red crystal casting an image of Chris's cell onto the wall in front of him. "Why must you be so stubborn" he hissed in annoyance at his brother's figure, Wyatt squashed a wave of guilt that spread across him at his brother plaintive cries. He walked across the room until he was standing in front of the projected image, "Why can't you see that I have to do this? I need you by my side."

Returning to his desk, Wyatt sighed. Two days…he mused, two days and Chris still hadn't broken. No one had lasted that long before. Despite the problems Chris was causing, Wyatt couldn't help but feel proud at this fact. The spell he had placed upon Chris had upper level demons caving in after mere hours, but his brother was made of stronger stuff than that. He was someone who was worthy to rule at his side.

A heavy knock on the door broke Wyatt out of his thoughts. Sitting up straight, he directed a firm "enter" at the door and waited regally for the door to open.

Kezlar entered and hovered uncertainly in the doorway, "You summoned me M'lord?"

Wyatt suppressed a grin at the brute demon's all-to-obvious fear, 'He fears I summoned him to dispose of him' Wyatt realised.

"Ah Kezlar," Wyatt spoke out loud, "Yes, sit down." Wyatt gestured to the hard wooden chair in front of his desk while, with a slight narrowing of his eyes, the door swung smoothly shut.

"M'lord." Kezlar nodded and lowered his immense bulk, the sturdy chair creaking ominously.

Wyatt pulled a report towards him and flipped it open, rereading it and tapping his fingers on the desk in annoyance, "You found no traces of them? None at all?" he questioned.

"M'lord?" asked Kezlar, frowning in confusion.

Wyatt inwardly sighed and didn't try to fight down his irritation, "My cousin and Darryl's wife. There are no leads on where they are?"

"None at all, sire," Kezlar replied, "They appear to have just vanished."

"Just vanished?" Wyatt repeated angrily, "They didn't 'just vanish', someone helped them get away and I want to know who, why and where the hell they are now!"

Kezlar swallowed nervously, "Yes M'lord, I'll- uh, I'll get some more demons working on it. Rightaway."

"And I suggest," Wyatt added, his voice dripping with disdain, "that questioning an Elder might be a good place to start."

"Oh!" The whirring cogs in Kezlar's head were almost visible; "You think the Elders are hiding them?"

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Wyatt replied, "If they're not in this world, nor the underworld, then that leaves only one place…" He cast his eyes skywards, as if his icy gaze could pierce the ceiling, "…up there."

---

Hidden in the Elder's sanctuary, Sheila woke with a start. She found herself tangled in the smooth white sheets and realised she must have been tossing and turning throughout the night. Her sleep had been uneasy, as her mind whirled with dreadful thoughts. Was her husband still alive? And if he was…well, she couldn't imagine that demons were particularly kind to their captives.

"Prue?" she called out, extracting herself from the bed sheets and running a hand through her hair, in an attempt to neaten it. "Are you here?"

The Elder, Orion, had given the pair of them adjoining rooms but Prue was nowhere to been seen. It took Sheila a second to locate the exit, the bright white door, blending in with the equally pure walls, but she wasted no time in twisting the handle and stepping out onto the gallery.

Sanctuary was a huge circular structure, rising high above the 'ground'. There was a large open space in the centre, currently filled with small groups of figures in golden robes. Their obvious anxiety created waves of tension, but not even this could mar the beauty of the place in Sheila's eyes.

Looking skywards she could see soft clouds floating against a pale blue background. In awe she stretched her fingers up, but the illusion was shattered when her fingertips scraped against rough rock.

It wasn't real then, Sheila realised. They were most probably underground somewhere, with magic disguising the rock as calm white walls. It was obvious that a lot of magic had gone into making the sanctuary look like what was probably home for the Elders, and she couldn't even begin to imagine how much magic the Elders must have put into protecting the place.

It felt good to feel safe again.

Looking across the gallery, Sheila spotted a familiar figure sitting on the edge, legs dangling and arms entwined around the slender bars.

She waved at her. Prue didn't appear to notice, or if she did, didn't make any attempt to return the gesture, so Sheila hurried around the gallery, slowing down as she approached the girl.

"He still hasn't come back yet." Prue told her, as soon as Sheila was within hearing range.

"Who, Chris?" Sheila placed a sympathetic hand on Prue's shoulder and lowered herself down beside her.

Prue nodded her head, her eyes glistening with tears. "He's been captured, he must have been. And with Wyatt acting as he is…"

"He'll be ok." Sheila reassured her, "Chris is strong and resourceful and…"

"…Been gone for two days!" Prue cut in forcefully, "Two days! Who knows what Wyatt will have done to him; Chris'll hardly be popular with any of the demons that Wyatt apparently surrounds himself with now."

Sheila pulled Prue into a comforting hug, "I refuse to believe that Wyatt would hurt him. Even when things were shaky between them, Wyatt always looked out for Chris."

Prue wrapped her arms around Sheila and held on as if for dear life, "I don't know if I can believe that anymore." she whispered.

"We have to stay strong, for Chris and Darryl."

"Yeah, yeah we do." Suddenly Prue knew what she had to do. She would go and rescue them herself.

---

Wyatt was unconsciously drumming his fingers on his desk. Chris was being such a nuisance, he thought irritably. Why won't he just break, why won't he just join me? After all, Wyatt allowed himself an evil smile, it was always better to back the winning side. And his was undoubtedly the winning side.

Coming to a decision, Wyatt picked up a heavy golden key from his desk and orbed out in a swirl of light.

---

The bright light illuminated Chris' cell and he instinctively screwed his eyes tighter together to protect them from the glare. The clatter of something metallic made him risk opening his eyes and he noticed that the light had subsided to a tolerable level; a few candles had been lit casting their flickering light across the rough floor.

"Wyatt." Chris spat, managing to inject some venom into his voice.

"Christopher." Wyatt replied calmly. He carefully inserted the key into the lock and twisted it sharply.

With a jolt Chris realised that the voices had stopped, the cold was retreating; he found he could think clearly for the first time in two days.

He scrambled to his feet; his hands grasping the cold wall behind to give him balance. "I see you've finally decided to grace me with your presence," he managed to grind out, not wanting to look weak.

Wyatt gave him an appraising look, "Don't forget, little brother, that I can see right through you." He held Chris' gaze and was inwardly impressed that the younger man didn't look away.

"How've you been enjoying your stay down here? My demons are good at what they do, no?"

Chris laughed bitterly, "Apparently not as good as you hoped though, otherwise no doubt I'd be ready and willing to join your side."

"And you're not?"

Chris shook his head, "No," he replied firmly. "I've already told you, not now, not ever."

Wyatt appeared unconvinced, "We'll see." he replied ominously.

Deciding to forgo the use of magic, Wyatt moved forward and closed the few remaining steps between him and his brother. He grabbed the collar of Chris' shirt, and dragged the witch away from the wall. "How about you tell me about the last time you spoke with our dear father?"

Chris' hands automatically rose and closed around Wyatt wrists in defence. "What?" he asked in confusion, "What does dad have to do with this?"

Wyatt took advantage of his height and pulled Chris upwards so he had to stand on his tiptoes. "Just answer the question."

Chris shrugged mentally, seeing no harm in answering the question, "A few month ago. Why?"

"What did you talk about?"

Chris narrowed his eyes, not seeing the importance of this questioning but not wanting to give anything away, "Nothing to do with you." he replied rudely.

In a sudden movement, Chris was slammed back against the wall, Wyatt's hands still at his throat. "Do I have to tell you again, Christopher? Just answer the damned question!"

"Not until you tell me what's so important about Dad!" retorted Chris hotly, his head throbbing from hitting the wall.

Wyatt dropped his hold on Chris and turned away in annoyance as Chris straightened his shirt, "Nothing's important about Dad, not any more. We were never important to him either. I want information about the Elders."

"If I knew anything I'd hardly be likely to tell you, seeing as you've locked me down here for the past few days!" Chris replied, "And…what did you mean by 'not any more'?"

Wyatt turned to look Chris in the eyes; "I mean that he's not a threat to us or anyone anymore. I made sure of that."

Chris stood shell-shocked as the full meaning of Wyatt's words hit him. "You mean…oh God Wyatt, tell me you didn't…did you…?"

"Did I kill him?" Wyatt finished Chris' sentence, an evil smirk playing across his face, "I wasn't about to let him ruin everything I've worked for, and what did he ever do for me? For you? When was he ever there for us? He would have just held us back. I saw how much it hurt you when Dad missed your birthdays, forgot about every family outing, abandoned you for his charges…I did it for you, Chris. So you could stand by my side, strong and powerful."

"You selfish bastard!" Chris yelled, fury and upset welling up within him. He swung his fist towards Wyatt's face, but his brother ducked easily and his fist only grazed empty air.

Wyatt's eyes narrowed in anger, and he returned the punch, hitting squarely on Chris' cheekbone. Chris staggered back and fell against the wall, ending up in a sprawled heap on the floor at Wyatt's feet.

Chris shifted position and lifted his leg off the floor to kick Wyatt in the back of the knees. Wyatt yelled out in pain as his legs gave way and he fell to his knees beside his brother. In an instant Wyatt reached out a hand and tightened it around Chris' neck, leaving him twisting on the floor and gasping for breath.

Wyatt climbed back to his feet, all the while keeping his hold on Chris' throat, dragging him up too. Wyatt slammed his knee into Chris's stomach and pushed him sprawling across the rough floor. As Chris moaned in pain and gasped for breath simultaneously, Wyatt crouched over him; "I was always able to kick your ass, little brother. Remember that." he hissed, before orbing out.