A/N: Hey guys, thanks for all the reviews and alerts. I always smile when I see them in my mail inbox. =)

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Chris was startled awake by the insistent poking of his cheek. His green eyes shot open as they tried focused on the too bright room.

"The fuck…" he grumbled under his breath and turned on his side to keep his eyes from burning.

"Good, I thought you were dead," A voice stated blandly and as Chris tried to locate the sound of the voice he found he was tangled up in a mess of bed sheets.

"Who are you," Chris asked in between frustrated attempts of freeing himself from the white blankets. When he finally managed to untangle himself he saw two annoyed brown eyes glaring at him from an odd angle. Chris realized that he was hanging upside down and that's why his intruder was at an odd angle.

"Bianca," the girl replied, flipping her obnoxiously long, brown hair over her shoulders, "and you're Chris Halliwell, right?"

Chris up righted himself in bed and waited a moment as all the blood that had rushed to his head slowly rushed back to the other parts of his body. He blinked a couple of times before replying, "That depends, are you here to kill me or fuck me?"

Bianca's eyes creased in anger and her shoulders tensed as she clenched her fists at her side. It looked as if she was about to jump on Chris and strangle him but slowly her fists unclenched and her posture became more relaxed. "I haven't decided yet."

"Good, let me know when you do," Chris stood up fixing his askew t-shirt and walked off. The carpeted floor irritated the bottom of his feet and he was glad once he reached the wooden floor of the foyer.

"You're not going to even ask what I'm doing in your house?" Bianca followed him, annoyance never leaving her face although it was beginning to mix a bit with astonishment.

"Nope," Chris said. "Do you want some pancakes or something?"

He weaved his way around furniture until he finally passed the dining room table and walked through the door leading to the kitchen. Bianca followed shortly behind him, her tan skin glowing eerily in the dim-lit room. Her eyes never left Chris as he walked about the kitchen, collecting ingredients to make some pancakes.

"It's three in the afternoon."

Chris looked at her bewildered and walked backwards to check the clock himself.

"Ah, so it is…" He shrugged and went back to the counter. "So do you want some or not, cause I could easily inhale eight of these by myself."

Bianca shook her head and Chris shrugged once more, not caring at all about the girl's decision.

"You're not very careful, are you?"

"Huh?" Chris whirled around to face Bianca with a spoon already in his hand. Bianca was glaring at him slightly, but otherwise she looked completely relaxed as she casually leaned against the island counter. Her eyebrow twitched in annoyance, "I could be a demon for all you know and was sent here to kidnap you to get to Lord Wyatt."

Chris seemed to ponder the statement before saying, "You could… but on the other hand I know you're not a demon because for one thing you wouldn't have bothered to wake me up, you either would have already shimmered out with me or drove an athame through my heart. I also know you're working for Wyatt."

"How do you know that?"

Chris smiled, "You said Lord Wyatt. Only his servants call him that and those who fear him. So you're either his servant or you're deathly afraid of him."

Bianca flipped her hair over her shoulders, as she smiled crudely, "Can't I be both?"

"Possibly except that you're not treating me like fucking royalty right now so you obviously aren't afraid of him enough to kiss my ass. If you did kiss my ass though, that'd be pleasant as well," Chris smirked, as he turned his back to finish stirring the pancake batter.

He felt the familiar, cold, metal pressed against his neck and the warm breath of Bianca's on his neck. She twisted the knife slightly so that it wasn't cutting his skin but was enough of a warning to let him know he shouldn't move. "Careful," she whispered. "If I kill you then whose ass am I going to kiss?"

Chris smiled and said, "You could still kiss my ass, just try not to get your disgusting lipstick on it."

Chris saw Bianca's knuckles whiten as her grip on the knife tightened and he actually thought she was going to do it until she swiftly lowered her arm, pocketed the knife in the side of her boot and walked away from him. He looked down to his batter and was surprised to see his hand shaking slightly. Hiding his nervousness he blurted out a question, "So what are you doing here then?"

"I was here to drop some stuff off, I left it in the living room," Bianca replied, nodding her head in the direction of the door. "I was going to hand it to you personally but I wanted to make sure you were alive first before I did."

Chris snorted, "Imagine handing a dead person something, now that's just rude."

Bianca ignored him and sat down on one of the stools. Her attention turned to her fingernails and Chris held back the question he wanted to ask by biting his tongue. He had a habit of always asking questions he didn't want to know the answers to.

He turned the knob on the stove to high, placing a flat pan on top of it and then poured some of the pancake batter onto the pan. "You're here to make sure I don't escape, aren't you?" Chris asked the question more quietly then he intended and his confidence diminished at Bianca's answer. "Yes."

Chris didn't say anything more and focused on making pancake after pancake. Once he had made a huge mound of seven pancakes or so he went about the kitchen getting butter, syrup and silverware.

Once his pancakes were sufficiently buttered, cut and lathered with syrup he sat down at the island-counter right next to Bianca and began shoveling the food into his mouth, not realizing how hungry he was. Bianca ignored him and he, in return, ignored her existence. At least, he tried to but with Bianca's exhibitionist outfit it was hard to ignore her.

Her clothes were made entirely of black leather and the laced up tank top she was wearing was low cut enough for Chris to see more than just a little bit of cleavage. Her pants gripped her hips tightly and made her slim thighs stand out. The only thing that did not appeal to Chris was the carefully tucked knife in Bianca's black, high-heeled boots.

"If you're going to stare I'm going to charge you money," Bianca deadpanned, her gaze never diverting from her manicured nails.

Chris choked on his pancakes before spluttering a reply, "Yes, because a prisoner in his own home has money on him."

Bianca turned to look at him, a confused expression gracing her features, "What are you talking about? We're not at your house."

Puzzled, he rebutted, "I'm pretty sure this is the Halliwell manor. I've only lived in it for 16 years of my life."

Bianca's confusion turned into a look of pity. "Chris… this isn't the Halliwell manor. I don't even think we're in San Francisco anymore."

Chris' forkful of warm pancake stopped halfway to his mouth as he lowered it slowly to his plate where it landed with a small clatter. Realization dawned on him and embarrassment took hold of his emotions. He couldn't believe he had been so stupid, of course Wyatt wouldn't have taken him back to the Halliwell manor, it would be the first place the Resistance would think to look for him. He had taken him to a different place and cast a spell on it to make it resemble Chris' home in order to trick him. In case he somehow got in contact with a member of the resistance he would tell them he was being held captive at the Manor instead of the real place he was being held. It was an ingenious plan and it filled Chris with betrayal. Wyatt had tricked him and Chris was too stupid to figure it out.

Chris ran a hand through his brown locks in irritation, looking away from Bianca's pitiful expression. He muttered something under his breath, incoherent to both occupants of the room and without warning, picked up his nearly empty plate and threw it against the wall. It shattered upon impact and stained the wall with butter and syrup. Bianca didn't flinch at the act or even seem to care about Chris' sudden rage.

"WYATT, YOU MOTHERFUCKER, GET THE FUCK DOWN HERE NOW!" Chris hollered at the top of his lungs, anger coursing through his veins so hot that he completely forgot about Bianca, who sat there in silence.

Black and blue lights filled the room and once Wyatt fully materialized Chris didn't waste any time attacking his brother. He swung at Wyatt, who at the last second caught Chris' fist and shoved the brunette to the floor. Chris struggled underneath Wyatt's grasp but the blond was not letting up. Wyatt glanced up to Bianca who watched the whole spectacle with wide eyes.

Wyatt uttered one word but that one word sent a shiver up Bianca's spine, "Leave." Bianca cast one last look at the struggling brunette before shimmering out.

Wyatt turned back to Chris whose green eyes contained nothing but hatred. "Don't ever try that again in front of someone else or I will have to punish you," Wyatt warned but Chris only spit in Wyatt's face.

Blind rage took over Wyatt as he lifted Chris off the ground and threw him across the room. Chris landed ungraciously on the other side of the kitchen, pain shooting up his spine upon impact. An energy ball materialized in Wyatt's hand and tossed it mercilessly at the younger boy who cried out in pain as it scorched his skin. Wyatt tossed another one and Chris cried out again as he felt the skin on his arm burn off and the smell of burning flesh made him nauseous.

Wyatt walked slowly over to Chris, a dark lighter's bow appearing in his hands. Fear filled Chris as he scampered off the floor and ran into the other room, the dark lighter's arrow missing him by inches. His heart pounded in his chest as he quickly hid himself behind the couch before Wyatt had a chance to see where he went. Beads of sweat rolled down his face and the pain in his arm and back threatened to make him pass out. The sound of heavy boots reached his ears and Chris held his breath, fearing Wyatt might even hear that. His heartbeat echoed in his ears and lightheadedness took over his thoughts. The room spun before him and before he knew it his eyelids slipped shut as he slumped to the ground, unconscious.

Wyatt heard the heavy thump and walked towards the sound, anger still fueling him. His bow was raised, ready to be shot at a moment's notice. He walked to the back of the couch, ready for anything… except for the sight of his younger brother lying on the ground unconscious. His anger depleted as quickly as air let out of a balloon and his bow disappeared in a puff of smoke. Horror set in at what he had just done and he quickly fell to his knees, his hands glowing. The wounds on Chris' body disappeared and relief filled Wyatt as he saw Chris' green irises.

Chris blinked and sat up. He swiveled his head around the room and terror seized him when he spotted Wyatt. He backed away from his older brother, who looked nothing but relieved and guilty, his heart hammering at a quickened pace.

"Chris…" Wyatt started but Chris stopped him short, "Get away from me."

Wyatt didn't show how much Chris' comment hurt him but continued to cover up his pain, "I-I didn't mean to." He reached his hand out towards Chris, wanting nothing more than to brush his hand loving against Chris' pale cheek.

Chris flinched and back away further while screaming, "I said get away from me!" He clambered to his feet and ran to the other side of the room, the farthest point away from Wyatt.

Wyatt's own heart seemed to stop at the command even with the knowledge that Chris was only saying that because he was afraid.

"Chris you don't mean that," Wyatt said in a low voice, getting up slowly, "I'm your brother-"

"You are not my brother," Chris yelled abhorrently. "You are not him so don't try and say you are you sick fuck!" Hysteria took hold of Chris as he began to hyperventilate with tears streaming down his face.

Wyatt crossed the room quickly and grabbed Chris. He hugged him to his chest tightly as the brunette screamed bloody murder at him and tried to wrench himself away from the blond. Wyatt stroked Chris' hair in a soothing manner and soon Chris' resistance became unbearable sobbing as his pent up emotions finally poured out. Never once during his captivity did Chris ever cry. He came close to it once, when Wyatt had kissed him, but never did he actually shed a tear. Chris' indifferent attitude had left him blind to his own emotions. He never realized how truly broken he was until now.

He continued to sob into Wyatt's shirt, crying his heart out while Wyatt kept stroking his hair in an attempt to calm down his younger brother. Wyatt stared down lovingly at Chris, trying not to think about the reason as to why Chris was sobbing. Under his breath he mumbled a sleeping spell and Chris' crying stopped as he slumped forward into Wyatt's arms asleep. Wyatt smiled slightly; he picked Chris up into his arms and dark-orbed them into Chris' bedroom. Gently laying him down, Wyatt pulled the blankets over Chris' small body. He looked at his little brother's face, peaceful but with tears still streaking his cheeks. He wiped them away with his thumb and smiled once again at his sleeping brother. He leaned forward to kiss him tenderly on the lips and whispered into Chris' ear, "I'm sorry," and flamed out, leaving Chris alone in the house once more.

Wyatt sat in the waiting room of the hospital, tapping his foot nervously against the gray, carpeted floors. Today was the day of Chris' release from the hospital. Victor was supposed to come too but had some important business to attend to and unfortunately couldn't make it. The aunts, uncles and cousins couldn't come either on account of school and work and of course Leo wouldn't come. Wyatt hadn't even bothered to ask him to come. He never came to anything of Chris' nor did he even give a fuck and Wyatt was sure that the presence of his father would only upset Chris further and diminish any psychological progress he had made in the hospital. Wyatt looked towards the clock, a frown lining his features as he realized he had been waiting for almost two hours now.

"Mr. Halliwell?" A voice brought Wyatt out of his thoughts and he turned to face Dr. Berkley, Chris' psychologist.

"Is Chris ready to be released?" Wyatt asked excited.

Dr. Berkley looked sadly down at Wyatt before saying; "I would like to keep Christopher here for now."

"What? Why?" Wyatt questioned indignant.

"Your brother has not made much progress while being here… even though he talks more freely now I can still sense that he is resisting me and isn't giving me the whole truth. I feel that he may still be suicidal and I do not want to send him home in that condition," Dr. Berkley answered. Wyatt remained quiet after Dr. Berkley's answer and his wide eyes showed his fear and worry for his little brother.

Dr. Berkley realizing Wyatt wasn't going to speak continued, "Unfortunately I am only allowed to keep a 72 hour hold on him for he is physically healthy now. I do need his guardian's consent to keep him here though. Can you get in touch with your grandfather and relay this information to him?"

Wyatt nodded, not entirely listening to Dr. Berkley, and hazily reached for his cell phone. The call was a blur to him and the only thing he remembered from the conversation was handing the phone to Dr. Berkley so that Victor could give his consent personally. Dr. Berkeley handed the phone back to Wyatt after the call ended and told him he could visit Chris if he wanted to. Wyatt nodded again and followed her out of the waiting room. He could remember hearing the hushed voices from other people behind him and he couldn't help but feel that some of them were talking about him and his suicidal little brother.

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A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed. =)

By the way even though Chris said he lived in the Manor for 16 years he is actually 17 going on 18. He left the Manor at 16 to join the resistance.

Also I know in the original storyline for Charmed Bianca is a hired gun sent to kill Chris but ends up falling in love with him but since Wyatt actually wants Chris in this story I changed Bianca's role. I hope no one minds.

Thanks for reading everyone!