The Promise of Safety is Undelivered.
Wyatt Halliwell is an overly-popular, well liked high-schooler who's almost graduated high-school and wants to go in to the police force. Christopher Perry puts up with an overly abusive foster family, is shy and rebellious, his magic slowly leaving him and almost leaving him for dead. When their paths meet, two worlds collide, and one will be left to shatter.
This is dedicated to the amazing CrazyxChaotic who puts up with my writing, my swearing, moments of insecurity, my countless ideas and never asking for anything back. :3
Beta'd by the amazing CrazyxChaotic, who put up with my writing and spam for this god-forbidden story.
Warnings: Child Abuse, Possible Non-con, swearing, MalexMale
Drumming his fingers to the beat of the fast intro of the song he was listening to, he closed his eyes, getting a moments rest before leaving for school.
He refrained the urge to gasp when his headphones were ripped out and he was thrown to the ground, and he met the eyes of his foster-brother.
"Christopher, You're supposed to be getting ready for school." He snapped, and Chris closed his eyes bowing his head submissively. "Sorry, Jared." He said softly, grunting when he got a booted foot to his ribs.
Gasping in pain as three more kicks hit him harshly, he felt his face being pulled up and a fist hitting him, hard in the temple and the force sending his head slamming down on the wooden floor, a small cry of pain breaking from his lips.
"If anyone asks, you were in a fight." The older of the two snapped before walking off, leaving Chris on his own.
The emerald-eyed teenager pressed a hand to his head, whimpering quietly at the pain radiating from it. He knew he'd have to go see the school nurse about his ribs, at the very least they'd be bruised, and he took a shaky breath before standing.
Grabbing his phone from where his attached headphones had sent it flying, he sighed when he saw the slight crack in the screen, momentarily glad that it was a Nokia and not an iPhone before pocketing it and sliding on his riding jacket, slinging his messenger back over his shoulder and tightening the strap.
It probably was a really stupid idea riding in his condition, and with his head hitting the floor so hard, there was a probable concussion, if not, a massive migraine brewing.
Taking a shaky breath, he grabbed his keys and walked out the front doors, once again cursing with the foster family he was left with, cursing his parents for leaving him alone, cursed the weather for causing his parents to crash.
Cursed that he was with a family who would more likely than not kill him.
Stuffing his keys in his pocket, Wyatt sighed, cursing his mother for all the notes that he had to hand in to the school, including the enrollment notes for his Aunt Phoebe's two youngest children.
Looking up when his name was called, the blonde smiled when his longtime friend, Jared Perry walked up to him, taking some of his notes so that Wyatt could grab his bag.
"Thanks." He said, gratefully as they started the hike to the front office.
"How's your brother?" Wyatt asked, not feeling as confident as he usually was, only asking for his mother's sake who had seen the boy once and decided that he was much too skinny and underfed and since then had made Wyatt ask about the boy ever since.
"He's not my brother. He's adopted. But he's fine. Got in a fight last night though." Before Wyatt could ask if he was okay, the taller of the two continued. "He's okay, I think, haven't seen him since after dinner last night."
The lies flowed easily through his lips, and Wyatt didn't notice a damn thing, clueless to the abuse that his best-friend and his family had inflicted on the foster-child.
Entering the front office, he frowned uncertainty at his friends foster-brother who was slumped heavily in a chair and the woman who usually ran the sick-bay and take care of the notes, hovering over him with a cup of water in her hand.
"Christopher." She said sternly, but put a gentle hand on his chin and pulled his face up to look at her, "You're dehydrated, drink."
With what looked like a lot of effort, the teenager took the plastic cup from her hand and slowly sipped from it. Pleased, the nurse turned to the pair standing by the door awkwardly, her eyes narrowing on Jared in suppressed anger before she turned to the blonde.
"Mister Halliwell, how may I help you? Enrollment notes for your cousins right?" She nodded to herself and walked over to the brawny man quickly, taking the notes from him.
"Alright Dear, anything else?" She asked kindly, eying Jared shifting uncomfortably as his gaze was directed at his foster-brother, and she thought she saw a flicker of remorse in his eyes, and she almost snorted, bitter towards the older boy who picked on his foster-brother for being 'different.' Honestly, she knew about magic, and she wasn't magical herself, but she was a mentor for many witches, or in Chris' case, hybrids, in the school, and knew that they often had problems adjusting to the mortal world. For such a rare hybrid as Chris, she found it absolutely appalling that the teenager was treated such a way, the kid not that much older than sixteen. She was close to the boy, and it was a mutual feeling, to the point that he had opened up about everything and had cried in front of her.
"Just notes for excursions and such." He said in that unique friendly way of his, before handing the notes to the elderly woman, who walked to the desk and put them down on the pile that she had to go through before turning to Chris who had basically slumped over in his sleep, almost asleep.
"No you don't boy. I'm almost positive you have a concussion and until I'm absolutely certain, you don't get to sleep. Knowing you, you'd never wake up." She snapped, clicking her fingers under his nose and watched as he sighed and straightened up.
"You two can go." She dismissed the two seniors, barely turning their way as she crouched in front of the student she cared for most, though she'd never admit to it.
"You need to tell someone." She said softly. "I don't think your body can take much more of this."
Chris snorted bitterly. "Right, I've been arrested three times in the past year and a half, no one will believe that the Perry's, the 'good' people of politics is beating their foster son. Just forget it Maureen. Can I stay here for the day?"
She nodded, "I'll tell your teachers for the day, there's no way you're leaving here in your condition, how you even got here was mystery to me. But you're a mystery yourself, aren't you?" She asked herself, walking away from the brunette who immediately slumped down in his seat, and she rolled her eyes at him gently, fighting the urge to walk back over and brush the too-long brown bangs from his beautiful eyes.
She fought it strongly though. She knew that the boy liked to hide behind things, rebellious and popular he may be, but he wasn't outgoing, preferring to do his own things instead of in a big group of people.
His hair was almost like his security blanket, you take it away and the damn child is even more lost and upset than it was without it. And she hated seeing that in the boys eyes.
She knew the boy rarely had a sense of belonging unless he was out running with his magical family. The people who took care of the boy and healed him. Made sure he was okay and were over-protective of the boy, not going after his family for the pure fact that they weren't magical.
"Chris," She repeated again, "You can't stay with them, it's taking a toll on you. Don't pretend I've not noticed how skinny you've gotten. You're entering dangerous territory staying with them. If they keep this up, there's no doubt you'll die. I'm surprised your ribs aren't broken and piercing your lungs. Go stay with the runners." She reverted to their other name, watching as glazed green eyes looked up at him.
"I'm just a waste of space, really. It doesn't matter if they almost kill me day after day. Maybe one day they'll succeed, and I won't be in the way anymore." He whispered softly, his eyes directed on the wall behind her.
"Chris," She started, walking over to him and caressing his face gently, her rage suppressed. "You're an amazing child, and I've seen your academic work when you do it, you're could become something even more amazing than what you are. And as to you being a waste of space? You're wrong. You're one of the best people I know and I know that the runner's will agree with me."
"You're bias." He said, still whispering and he blinked against the sting of tears. "No one would care if I went missing." And Maureen sighed, irritably.
"Chris, listen to me. So many people would miss you. The Runners, they'd be torn up. They need you. I need you. People out there need you. Stop talking about this and I'll go get you a bottle of water." She ran her hand through the silky brown hairs, and bit her lip before walking away.
She knew the women for the job to help bring the child back to the person he used to be before all this shit happened to him.
The Halliwell Sisters.
If they didn't know what to do, no one would.
And she seriously hoped that they could do their help quickly, because that teenager in the other room would soon be drowning in his own depression.
Soon, if he didn't get help, she would be positive the boy would be too far gone before someone could talk him round.
And nobody in the magical community could afford that. No one.
So, this is the start to a hopefully, multi-chaptered fanfiction, which should be finished hopefully soon, because I don't have long until school ends and my seven week holiday. :3