Our life is made by the death of others...
-Leonardo da Vinci.
The two boys, heads bowed and cloaked in black remained by their mothers grave, in the rain as the crowd of mourners silently began to leave.
"It should have been me," the younger boy said suddenly, "it should have been me."
His older brother placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder and said, "No Chris, there is no way in hell it should have been you. Mom knew that. You know as well as I do, Piper Halliwell never did anything without a reason."
Chris smiled weakly, "Thanks Wyatt."
"Any time li'l bro, anytime."
Phoebe Halliwell walked away from the majority of her family to her nephews. The service had finished and neither boy had moved an inch. With Leo thanking the few people left and the family ready to leave, someone had to get the boys.
"Chris, Wyatt," Wyatt turned to face his aunt and was almost instantly engulfed in a hug, "it's time to go home." The older boy nodded and began to walk to the car. Chris flinched as Phoebe laid a hand on his shoulder but other than that he didn't budge.
"Chris, sweetie... did you"
"I heard you," he snapped, cutting her off, "And I'm not going anywhere." He said angrily, his gaze locked on his mothers tombstone.
"Chris, sweetie, you can't stay here in the rain. I know it hurts..."
"You have no idea."
"She was my sister Chris. The second one I've had to bury. You're not the only one who's going to miss her you know." Her voice was a mix between sadness, anger and concern.
"You still don't get it; you weren't there. You didn't lie there dying, holding and watching her as she died knowing that there wasn't a damn thing you could do to save her, or yourself. You didn't scream for your father and brother until your throat hurt. You weren't in the ghostly plane with her only to be ripped away just as she moved on, by a father who was ten minutes to late. She didn't die on your birthday. Most importantly, YOU AREN'T THE ONE BEING BLAMED FOR HER DEATH! So no Phoebe you don't know a damn thing." His voice cracked and his shoulders sagged when he finished .
Her thoughts were racing as Chris's emotions broke free from the barriers of the potions he'd been taking and slammed into her.
"Oh god, Chris, no one blames you. Come on we'll go home, inside where it's not raining and talk."
Chris waved his hand and the rain came to an abrupt halt. He turned to face his aunt and said,
"It's not raining. We'll talk here. If you have to insist." He said icily.
Phoebe's eyes widened in shock and she gasped, not just at his display of power, but his now icy, rigid persona. Something which was definitely not like her youngest nephew.
"Well?" Chris asked impatiently.
"Oh honey," Phoebe pulled him into a tight hug, Chris surprisingly didn't resist. Through her tears she said , Christopher, nobody blames you, I swear it. I know that you're hurting now but in time, I know you won't want to believe me, but it will pass."
He looked at the grave stone behind them.
"Can I just have a few more minutes, by myself, just to.... Say goodbye?" He asked, suddenly unsure of himself.
She pulled back and looked at her nephew, his emerald green eyes were studying her intently, silently pleading with her. She knew that she couldn't refuse him.
She nodded, saying, "Alright, not too long okay. I'll be at the car."
As she started to walk off, Chris doubled over in pain, he felt a warm, sticky substance pour from his nose and a coppery taste began to pool in his mouth. He put his right hand to his nose. It wasn't stopping. He felt like he was dying. Again.
Phoebe was a few meters away from the car when it happened. Chris le out an ear piercing, pain filled scream and fell to his knees.