Ok, ok, yeah, I know I'm turning into another Nikki14u. A million stories, and not a one of 'em finished. But this just struck me like lightning, and I have to right it while I'm still excited!
Disclaomer. Yo no tengo la program de televison Charmed. You no teongo Drew Fuller tambien. Ay De Mi! Que suerte!
(I know I butchered the Spanish language there, but hey! I'm learning, ok?)
Also, I will put a clip of lyrics in the front of each chapter. I can't make you read 'em, but please do? They're beautiful songs.
Well it ain't fair,
You died too young
Like a story that had just begun
But Death tore the pages all away.
And God knows how I miss you
And all the Hell that I've been through
No one can take your place.
An' Sometimes, I wonder,
Who you'd be today
-Who you'd be today. Kenny Chesney. .
In, out. In, out. In, out...
It was the only thought Chris could keep in his head. He knew he should probably be pondering the meaning of life, the point of his own...Mulling over old memories, reminiscing with a hint of nostalgia...
Knew he should be scared to death (ha!) About his brother, lost and alone in the underworld. Worried about his mother, and hoping the labor was going smoothly...
Yet the only solid idea being held in his foggy, muddles mind was In, out. In, out. As he struggled to breathe. And it was getting harder, his breathing became struggled, his heart slowed...
'Oh God,' Chris thought, between 'in and out'. 'Dad won't make it back.' In, out. 'I'm going to die, here, alone...'
He knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that he was dying. He could feel his pulse slowing, and it took almost more strength than he could muster to force his chest up and down. In, out.
He wasn't afraid of death. He'd been raised around ghosts, angels and spirits. He knew what awaited him on the other side...but there was a huge difference between being afraid of death, and being afraid of dying.
Chris was terrified of dying.
In, out. In, out.
God, it hurt so much! There wasn't much blood on his clothes, or his mother bedding; most of the damage was internal. 'How nice,' he thought. 'Death with easy clean up.'
But bloody or no, the deep puncture wound below his chest hurt SO much. He'd been shot by Darklighter arrows, hit in the heart with balls of flames, been hurled against walls ans counters, and been hospitalized five times, but he was in more pain now than he could ever remember.
Theoraticly, hisstomach should be the only thing hurting. But oh no. with every beat of his failing heart, it seemed as though it was circulating razor blades in his veins. Every breath tore into his lungs.His head achedand he was dizzy. SO dizzy; the room around him twisted and turned and swirled and swooped...
And in HURT!
In, out. In, out. In, out.
But what hurt more than anything, more than the gaping wound, or his jagged breathing, was the fact that he could die...alone.
Mom and his aunts had been with Grams when she died. Aunt Prue had died in an instant; Dad was reborn, and his death too was instantaneous. None of them had suffered in their last moments of life, not alone, at least.
But Chris? His life had been nothing but suffering. And pain, and misery. He'd grown up alone, no friends, most of his family dead...
He lived his life alone.
Guess it seemed only right that it should end alone.
Chris, suddenly, felt a warm tear slide silently down his face, but was far to weak by then to brush it away.
He couldn't do this anymore. It hurt so much, and he just wanted the pain to end. Maybe he'd see his mother again, and his aunts, cousins...
He closed is eyes...
In, out. In, out.
And snapped them back open again.
Turning his eyes towards the voice, his nearly still heart leaped at the site of his father, rushing across the tilting room, to kneel at his side.
Chris somehow managed a weak smile for his Dad. "Hey," he whispered, as loud as he could manage.
"Hey." Leo responded, trying to infuse his voice with a calm harmony he didn't feel. He offered his son a weak smile. Though the last thing he felt like doing was smiling.
He could tell the moment he reached his sons side. He was ashen, his eyes glassy, yet dull. His breathing sounding like gravel crunching under truck tires. Leo could kid himself all he wanted. Could tell himself that Chris was fine, he was a fighter, he'd be just fine...
But eight years of Med school told him different.
Chris was dying. And it wouldn't be long.
Leo's gut told him to leave the room. Orb far away, and break down. He couldn't handle this, it wasn't fair, it was too much...
But there wasn't a thing in the entire God damned world that was going to keep him from his son, in his last moments of life. Chris needed him here, needed his to hold him, to at least TELL him he'd be just fine...
He wasn't going to let him dies alone.
Leo gathered his son in his arms, and gently brushed a long lock of dark hair away from his face.
"I'm here now. You can, hold on, OK? Hold on, hold on." Leo's spirit was crumbling. He couldn't tear his eyes away from his sons face. He wanted to memorize every feature of his son. His beautiful green eyes, every freckle, every angle...and at that moment, his face bore an expression of pure peace. Dad was here now, everything was Ok. He couldn't save him, but he was here. He wouldn't die alone...
"I'm here. You can hold on, ok? Don't give up."
Chris looked up at his father. One last time. He loved him so much...he was never there for him before, but suddenly, it didn't seem to matter.
He was here now. This was the time that Chris needed Leo here more than anything. He was SO cold now, but his dad felt so warm, his arms around him, protecting him, holding him...so warm...
In, "You either." Chris murmured, the last of his strength giving out on him. Out.
He managed to hold his fathers gaze for a second more, but he couldn't take it anymore. His eyes closed, Chris not possessing the power to keep them open anymore.
"No no, no, please, no, no..." Leo begged, holding his son close to him.
But Chris could barely hear his father now. And he couldn't feel anymore pain, or cold...just...warmth. Warmth, like his daddies arms...
In, out. In...out. In...
Not cold anymore. Not warm. Not laying down. Not standing up. Not asleep. Not awake. Just...there. But where? When? How long?
All these thoughts swirled through Chris Halliwell's mind like a whirlpool. Actually, he wasn't even sure he was still Chris Halliwell. He thought like Chris Halliwell. Pondered questions like Chris Halliwell...but...He didn't feel like Chris Halliwell. Mostly, because he couldn't feel ANYthing. Not temperature, not humidity, not movement or color, just...space.
'Well this sucks.'
Five minutes. Two weeks. A year, four, twenty...Chris had no idea how long he was 'there'. He had no sense of time. It was like when you woke up in a room with no light, no windows, you had no idea how long you'd been asleep.
He could have been there for several millennia for all he knew. Thousands and thousands of years gone by, not feeling, seeing, experiencing...and nothing changing.
If he still had a heart (did he? Maybe...) It would have jumped through his chest at the sudden light, illuminating the Space around him. It was strikingly bright, and purest white...
And he felt something hard form under his back...o he WAS lying down...something like stone, or a floor...and it was cold...he could feel the cold...
And he could see shapes, figures silhouetted by the light. Three of them, swaying,walking..towards him..
And that's when the panic set in. Chris hadn't had any sort of change around him in...in...well, he wasn't sure, but now, with all these senses bombarding him, the light making him squint, his back aching against whatever was under him, and the figures walking ever so slowly towarsd him...it was too much!
He was quite shocked that he could still move, but took full advantage of the situation, trying to make a break for it.
He jumped up with surprising grace and ease, and immediately started running in the opposite directotion. But that light...it seemed to follow him, seeking him out of the shadows where he hid, like a rising sun.
'Oh shit oh shit oh shit...' Chris kept thinking. He wasn't sure who those approaching figures where, didn't know if they where here to help him or hurt him. All he knew was that they frightened him. He just wanted to curl up and go back to his past existence. To not feel this fear coursing through him, to see the light, the figures...
And so he did just that. He collapsed to the floor and curled into a tiny little ball, his knees drawn up to his chest, his arms thrown over his head, trying to bloc out the world around him.
And it seemed to work for a moment...Then someone touched him.
"AAAHhhhhh!" he screamed in surprise, twisting away from the hand on his shoulder. But he couldn't seem to get away...there where more hands reaching for him, uncurling him, dragging him to his feet. And all the while, he thrashed around like a wild beatse, struggling to stay out of thier grasp...
The word rang out like a bell in the Space, making Chris's head snap up at the echo.
Shaking, trembling, he chanced a look at his captors. And his jaw dropped somewhere around his stomach when he saw three Elders standing around him.
"What the fu-"
"Christopher!" snapped one Elder, a woman of about fifty, with long auburn hair. She, of the three looked like the sweetest, so he decided to angel on her.
"What's going on? What're you guys doing here?" he demanded, his knees going weak.
"Calm down Christopher," another Elder instructed. He was thirtyish, with light brown hair and a little extra weight. He was strong too, having a firm grip on Chris's left arm. "We're here to help you."
"Help me" Chris scoffed, chuckling. "Help me with what? I'm dead! Gone! Six feet under!" he laughed heartily at what he thought was a humorous situation. The three Elders exchanged looks, all wondering if the boy was insane.
The last Elder, a woman no older than him, stepped forward. She was a Latina, with short, dark hair and chocolate eyes.
"We're offering you a second chance, Chris." she said softly, staring intently to see his reaction.
His face remained blank.
"A second chance," The older woman confirmed, loosening her grip, now that they had Chris's attention.
"What do you mean, 'second chance?'" Chris asked, tilting his head to one side, thoroughly confused. "A second chance at WHAT?"
"At life!" the male said, as though it was an obvious answer. "A chance that mortals only dream of! A chance top reaffirm your loves, dreams, aspirations!"
"OK, you've lost me. Mind speakin' English for a while?" he quipped, earning a literal smack on the wrist by the older Elder.
"Don't take that tongue with us Christopher. You should be thanking and praising us n bended knee!" she scolded.
Chris just shook his head, his crazy chuckle making another appearance.
"Thank you for WHAT? What's going on?" he demanded, his Halliwell temper sparking.
The youngest woman stepped forward, towards him, and smiled.
"We're offering you a second chance at life Chris. A chance to re live the last nine months with your family."
Chris's mind went blank. A second chance? M-more time with his parents? With Wyatt?
"Y-you're serious?" he asked tentatively.
The man nodded. "You have one of the purest souls we've seen Chris. You went through Hell, lost your family, your love, even your life, and asked for nothing in return. Wanted no reward."
"But that's exactly what we're offering, Christopher," the eldest continued, offering a pleased smile.
A million thought raced through Chris's mind; nine months, nine more months to say all the things he wanted, take back all his regrets...
"N-n-nine months...that's just after Mom found out about me..." he started, when he'd found his voice again.
They all three nodded. "We'll send yo back top that very moment, and for nine months, you get to relive the time with your family."
Chris looked around at the Elders in a state of shock...wait...Elders...Gideon! Chris nearly laughed out loud! Gideon! He would know who it was this time around, could kill the murdering bastard before he had a chance to lay a finger on his brother...on him...
And his heart sank. He knew what they where going to say, he just knew it...
"But there is one catch." the dark skin girl continued. " You will remember all the event of before, except the hour of your death, and your killer."
"What!" Chris yelled, outraged. "Why?"
"Because," he explained. "You are meant to die. Even we can't stop that. And it will save you nine months of anxiety and turmoil if you aren't worrying about your imminent death."
"But what about Wyatt?" he demanded, flailing his arms out. "How can I possibly enjoy this when I know that Wyatt's kidnapper is out there? I'll just keep with the demon hunting and the searching an..."
The youngest reached forward, pressing a finger against his lips, to quiet him.
"No you won't." she assured him, smiling. And her smile seemed to calm him. "You will have peace of mind that Wyatt will be safe. It's destiny."
All was quiet for a moment, as Chris pondered this.
"Well, what happens to me after I die?" he ventured to ask. He didn't want to end up in this Space again!
"We honestly can not know that." they said simultaneously.
"Are you ready to go back, Christopher?" the girl asked him softly.
Was he ready? Ready to spend the afternoon with Mom, and make amends with Dad? To joke around with his aunts? To do all the things he regretted never doing!
"Hell yeah." Chris 'duhed.' and the moment the words left his mouth, the light filling the space increased tenfold, and Chris felt as though he was falling...
A/N I am writing another chapter to I Love You Too, due to fan demand! ( I luv you guys!) And the rest of my stories will be updated shortly.
Please, review! I love reviews!