Charmed Fic: Reflections (Sequel to "Deep Breathing").
Title: Reflections
Author: Dannyblue
Email: Sequel to “Deep Breathing”.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Slashy and incestuous overtones.
Disclaimer: CHARMED and its characters do not belong to me. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Distribution: All you have to do is ask.
Feedback: Yes, please.
Author’s Note: I didn’t intend to write a sequel to “Deep Breathing”. But muses are funny thing; they take you where they want you to go.
“A date?” Wyatt said, as if he’d never heard the word before.
“Okay, not really a date,” Chris admitted absently, his mind obviously on something other than his big brother. He was like a whirlwind moving around the room, rummaging through drawers, ducking in and out of the closet. “Debbie’s this new girl at school, and we’ve been kind of getting to know each other. Well, today, we started talking about this new movie we both want to see and, before you know it, we’d decided to go together this afternoon.”
Wyatt barely heard him over the sound of the blood rushing through his ears, his heart pounding in his chest. But he heard enough.
“Oh,” he said as he slowly sat on the edge of the twin bed he’d…slept in just the week before. Memories of that night made his hands shake a little, made it that much harder to act like nothing was wrong. Not that Chris would notice. “I thought you and I were going to see that movie this weekend. You know, together.”
“Yeah, I know.” He shrugged dismissively as he slammed a drawer shut. “But I figured you wouldn’t mind. Besides, if I really like it, I can go see it with you, too.”
“Right,” Wyatt said, dredging up a ‘whatever’ smile from somewhere. But it felt more like a grimace, a painful facial spasm, than a real smile. “Mom’s letting you go on a date on a school night?”
“When I called the club, she said it would be fine. It’s still early yet, and I’ll only be gone two or three hours. There’ll be plenty of time to do the little bit of homework I have.”
Wyatt could only nod to show he was listening. But the name of this faceless girl echoed through his head. Debbie. Debbie. He wracked his brain, trying to remember if he’d ever met her, seen her. But it was a big school. And, if she was new…
“Oh, by the way.” A bundle of clothes in his arms, Chris turned to his older brother. “Tracy called. She said she knows you remember her number, even though you’ve been acting like you don’t lately, and you better use it today or you can forget getting within touching distance of her ever again.” Chris grinned. “I don’t know what you did to tick her off, but I’d start dialing if I were you.” Apparently highly amused by his older brother’s romantic life, Chris snickered as he sauntered out of the room.
Wyatt sat on that bed for a long time, staring at nothing. For a moment, he thought about Tracy. Beautiful Tracy with the gorgeous smile, who he’d all but ignored the last few days. He hadn’t meant to. He really did like her. It was just that, well, he’d had other things on his mind.
Just like he did now.
Debbie. Debbie.
That name echoed in his head, like a scream through an empty cave. Such a simple, ordinary name. Harmless. Boring even.
So why was it cutting into him like razor blades, slicing through his insides, making it hard to breathe?
Leaning forward, Wyatt rested his elbows on his thighs. Eyes closed, he pressed his fingertips against his temples, and tried to will this pain away. This clenching, gnawing, sinking ache in his stomach, like a black pit trying to drag him in.
It wasn’t like Chris had never gone on dates before. And, even when it first started to bother him, Wyatt hadn’t known why it bothered him back then, so it was easy to pretend it really didn’t. Easy to push those feelings away. Easy to smile, and laugh, and tease Chris about his little girlfriends when he got home.
But that was before. Things were different now.
Just then, he heard the shower come on. And he could see it in his minds eye. Chris stripping bare. Taking off his shirt to reveal the smooth, unblemished skin of his chest. Then his jeans, making a soft, whispering sound as they slid, like silk, down his long, lean legs. Completely unaware of his brother sitting here, imagining and…wanting.
And the pain wasn’t fading. It was sinking in, deeper and deeper.
Sighing, Wyatt lifted his head and opened his eyes. And his gaze was caught by flash of royal blue.
Standing, walked over to the dresser. The t-shirt Chris wore yesterday was lying there, a bundle atop a stack of sports magazines and comic books. Wyatt picked it up, clutching it so tight he imagined he could feel every wrinkle and crease. As he stared at it, he imagined it draping across Chris’s shoulders, his arms, his chest. Imagined it absorbing Chris’s heat, pulling his essence into every fiber and stitch.
Closing his eyes, Wyatt lifted the shirt to his face, pressed his nose into the soft cotton and breathed deep. He could smell sweat, clean and musky. He could smell the deodorant Chris used. And he could smell…Chris.
He took another deep breath, and it was like Chris was everywhere. Around him, and inside of him. Flowing through him like warm honey. Sinking into all the dark, deep places.
And for one long, blissful moment, he was lost, and there was only Chris’s scent, and the images of Chris in the shower, surrounded by steam and mist, hot water and soap suds cascading down his naked body.
Debbie.
Wyatt’s eyes snapped open, the memory of that name snapping him back to jarring reality.
Teeth clenched, he glared at his own reflection…because he couldn’t glare at her. He’d never seen her, so he didn’t even have a face to hate. Just a name. A plain, boring, razor-sharp name, still cutting him up inside.
He lowered the shirt, wringing it around his fists, strangling it between his hands. And his reflection was staring back at him, face blank and cold, but brown eyes burning. His jaw muscle twitched as he ground his teeth. Biceps tightened as he clutched at the shirt.
Debbie. Debbie. Debbie!
Wyatt’s fist slammed into the mirror, the sound of shattering glass filling the room like a gunshot. Cracks spreading out from the point of impact like ripples across water.
Taking a step back, he breathed deep to try to calm himself.
And hot, angry eyes watched rivulets of blood trickle down the glass.
“I’m late,” Chris murmured as he hurried back into his bedroom.
Shaking his head, he jogged over to the dresser. He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten his wallet. Oh, yeah. Debbie having to pay for his ticket and snacks would’ve made a great impression on their first date.
Not a date, his brain reminded him. Just two new friends hanging out…for now.
As he grabbed his wallet, something caught his eye. Amongst the clutter spread across his dresser, something sparkled.
Puzzled, Chris picked it up. It was a shard of glass. No. A piece of broken mirror.
“Where did you come from?” he muttered. His room might be a little cluttered (but nothing compared to some of his friends) but he was sure he wouldn’t have missed something like this.
Frowning, Chris looked up at the dresser mirror, where the shard would most logically have come from. Only, the mirror was completely whole and unbroken. So, where did the shard come from?
His first thought was “demon”, because that’s the kind of thought you had when you were a Halliwell. But why would a demon leave a piece of shattered mirror on his dresser?
“I broke it.”
Startled, Chris spun around to find Wyatt standing in the doorway, arms folded across his broad chest. “Geez, Wy! Warn a guy.”
Normally, Wyatt would have laughed, teasing and smug that he’d been able to catch his little brother by surprise. But, this time, he only shrugged. “Sorry.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Chris said, rolling his eyes. Then, what Wyatt said really sunk in. “You broke my mirror?” And he turned to look at the mirror in question, which definitely wasn’t broken.
“I fixed it with a spell,” Wyatt said. “But I guess I missed a piece.”
“Well, thanks for the fixing. But how in the world did you break my mirror?” Then, as he realized an explanation would take time-and he was already late-he held up his hand. “Never mind. You can tell me later.”
Heading for the door, Chris dropped the piece of broken mirror into the trash bin. “I’ll see you later, Wy.”
“Yeah. Have a nice time.”
Too preoccupied to hear the chill in those words, Chris just smiled at his big brother as he brushed past him. “I intend to.”
The shard of glass already forgotten, Chris jogged down the stairs, every thought focused on Debbie, and making a good impression on her.
It would be three days before he realized his navy blue t-shirt was missing.
THE END