Puppet (Rewrite)

Um, sorry again. I am trying to update but Christmas stuff got in the way…too much family stuff.

Also turns out having two gremlins isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. While one wants you to work on one story one wants you to work on another. I had about half a chapter typed up for present that needed to be shredded because that’s what it did to my plot of it. SO, I decided to go back and write this. They are now both sitting on the couch watching me and grumbling at each other about Chris and Daniel (SG-1). Apparently, they want to branch out and have received their last warning from me about more stories until these ones are finished.

So here’s my promise. I will be typing a few more chapters up in the next week for Present and will probably be done it by the end of February. (Just need to find the right songs to be playing in the background)

Well until later enjoy

Chapter 3

Chris turned over in his bed. He shouldn’t be conscious. He knew that much. Groaning he wished to either be out cold or forgetting or locked up in his mind. Wyatt hadn’t sent him there yet and Chris’ worries grew by the second on why his brother was ignoring him. Well maybe ignoring him wasn’t the right word. More around forgetting about him would work.

Chris fought back tears that threatened to fly down his cheeks. He told himself that they were because of the hopelessness of the situation. He needed to cry because of what Wyatt did to him, what he did to Melinda. But deep down Chris knew that the reason was ore basic. More of a fear of his then he liked or even was willing to admit.

Wyatt had finally forgotten about him, just like the rest. He wondered of he could leave soon then. Would Wyatt even notice? Maybe not. Turning his head to wipe his tears and nose against a pillow he let a few fall. He was ignored again. He wasn’t even worth the effort of locking up. Wyatt either thinks that he was now fully broken or… just doesn’t care and figures that Chris is even less dangerous then something that he had a hard time scraping off his shoe.

“Ah, what’s wrong cherub?” Chris jumped out of his bed in a flash and faced Barbus. The demon was smiling obviously loving the pain in Chris’ movements and fear in his eyes. He knew he couldn’t defend himself against anything right now. He didn’t even have a knife to use. Wyatt had taken away all of his weapons long ago.

Barbus stood there about three feet from the trembling child. He didn’t bother to hide the roaming of his eyes or the appreciated sigh at the sight of Chris’ body wrapped in jeans and a t-shirt. The boy would look beautiful naked or in a snowsuit. His smile turned feral and Chris backed up a step. Barbus did love fear. “I asked you a question Chris. What’s wrong?” He started to advance on the child and watched with amusement as Chris’ legs hit the bed and send him toppling backwards onto the blankets.

Giggling merrily to him self, Barbus leaned over the boy and trapped him without touching him. His hands were holding Chris in place by curing his fingers into the sheets by Chris’ head. He sniffed the air. Sex, fear and oh yah…shame. Barbus bearded his teeth and leaned down to claim Chris’ trembling lips.

The head but was expected but not the knee. Barbus staggered back a moment. His world reduced to a spot of pain in his body and a desire to cause more pain to the child. He willed it away and grabbed Chris as he made a mad dash for the door. On the other side were supposed to be guards. They were supposed to ‘protect’ Chris from him self and others. Barbus had bribed them all earlier.

His nails cut into the tender skin and he yanked the boy tossing him over his head and into the wall across the room. A thud and a smacking sound and the boy was in a heap lying on the floor. He wasn’t trying to get up. Barbus carefully moved over to the boy. Chris could be playing. He wouldn’t put it past the boy to have somehow, in the few moments he had contact with Barbus to have grabbed a weapon off him. He didn’t actually carry any but Halliwells were…just plain annoying on what they could turn into a demon-killing device. He snarled at the boy before booting him over onto his back. Blood came from a gash on his head and Chris stayed still.

Barbus crouched down. He carefully tilted the chin up and checked his pulse. It was beating calmly and steadily, showing no signs of excitement before attacking or of failing to death. Barbus smirked to himself. Chris loved to play D I D. “All defenseless. All willing in that.”

He leaned down and kissed the still lips softly yet with purpose. He parted Chris’ lips with his tongue and shifted so he was kneeling. Chris tasted like Melinda, Wyatt, and innocents. Melinda’s was always the most physical but Chris’ was well, his was truer. While Melinda bowed down before her evil master Chris would battle until broken. Somehow that always made his seem sweeter to taste. Sweeter to desire. Sweeter a victory.

Barbus pulled a knife from his robes and quietly sliced down Chris’ shirt revealing a perfect, yet paling chest. His body was growing weaker and more desirable to the decrepit old demon. The weaker Chris became the more beautifully he shone. He was a jewel t be played with and put on display but nothing more. He was a body with a mind that was meant to entertain its master and nothing else. Barbus grew hard as his plans fluttered into his mind.

All he had to do was wait and the tow younger would be his forever. He frowned at the thought of Wyatt. He had to die, even with his beauty. He was too hard to control. His knowledge of demonic powers made him a force to be reckoned with. But he was alone, more so now then ever with such an easy access to his soul so defenseless. Barbus trailed his hand over one of Chris’ nipples and rolled it to life.

He felt the change in Chris’ breathing with out the aid of magic and chuckled gently to himself. He could play a bit like this except his knees were starting to protest. Frowning he stood up while picking Chris up and carried him over to the bed as one would do with their bride. He gently laid the boy down and blew soft puffs of air across his stomach to cause the muscles to act. He watched them tense and heard Chris’ breath hitch.

He also heard the groan that signaled his fun was going to be getting back on track. He locked his lips over Chris’ and sucked the boy’s tongue into his warm mouth. All the while making promises with brushes of his finger of pleasure and pain.

He reached down and grabbed the jeans. The zipper and button gave way easily and without complaint but he fabric tried to bite into Chris as he tore it apart and off the body. He felt Chris’ hands grab his arms and try to push him off only to be swatted away. Barbus was much stronger then he looked and was planning to enjoy this. “Oh if you want to scream be my guest. I know your brother would love to watch.” Chris stilled faster then anything Piper had ever frozen.

Smiling Barbus finished ripping the jeans until the two legs were separate. The material still hung onto Chris’ legs but he was left bare to the hungry gaze of the demon.

Once convinced that Chris wouldn’t try to escape or scream Barbus reached up and undid the clasp at his collar. His robe fell open to reveal a deceptively light toned body. Anyone looking would have placed their money on Chris. But Barbus hadn’t lived the past eternity as a weakling. “Be good and I’ll be gentle.” He smiled kindly at the terrified boy.

Wyatt turned his head from his computer screen and watched his wife parade in, arms loaded with shopping bags. Apparently, his order for everyone to restrict coming and going out of the home to a minimal either didn’t apply to her or the mall was a necessity. He sighed to himself. She was really annoying him sometimes.

He rubbed his eyes as she started to show off her latest additions to not only hers but Melinda’s and his own closets. “You’ll look perfect in this.” Wyatt dropped his hand and looked at what she held.

It wasn’t really that bad looking. A silk shirt, black tie and a dress jacket but it was more something that Chris would like. Even if it was many sizes too big. His little brother would wear it simply to annoy anyone who could possibly know how much the suit was worth. He smiled at his memories of his little cherub.

When Chris was five he had declared that he was going to be Wyatt. Luckily, Wyatt had understood that Chris just wanted to be like him, not actually him. He agreed to let the younger boy play with his clothes until he found something he liked to wear. Their mother had just sat backed and laughed as Wyatt helped Chris get shirts that were five sizes too big for him over the much smaller boy’s head. He remember on overly large green sweater that had migrated from their father’s closet, had nearly fallen off the brown haired smiling boy by letting the boy through the neck opening.

Wyatt felt tears prick his eyes and coved them up quickly by turning back to his computer. Allison wouldn’t want to talk about it. She seemed to hate Chris. Wyatt mused about these thoughts for a moment. It was like she knew that she was not just second to Chris but third to Melinda. He would gladly trade her soul to save either of his blood. Because that’s what they were, blood. Bound together for eternity. Blood, minds, powers….POWERS.

Wyatt cursed to himself and jumped out of the chair rounding his desks and orbing as he reached the door. Powers were the only things that were bound in Chris right now. If he was awake, he could be trying to hurt himself again. He had tried before. How could he be so stupid? Wyatt didn’t know who he was asking the question about himself or Chris.

Easily he found himself in front of Chris’ door and stopped dead. The sounds were distinctive. Moans of pleasure and distress only meant on thing from behind this particular door. Wyatt remembered many occasions going to talk to Chris only to hear these sounds that drove him to his office and scribing bowl.

Chris was being fucked behind that door. Wyatt gulped and tried to calm himself as a swell of jealousy and, and ownership rose in his chest.

How dare Chris take another lover?! How dare he fuck someone who wasn’t him or Melinda?! Wyatt’s fist accompanied with his telekinesis was ready to take down the door when he caught himself.

How dare he judge Chris? His heart sank. He didn’t have a claim on Chris like that. What they had done earlier was, fun, but Chris never wanted it. Tears pricked his eyes again and he leaned his head against the door to calm his nerves and was thrown in to a vision.

He didn’t understand what was going on. Chris was sitting on some sort of bed; pillows that were covered with dark silk were all around. His skin seemed to shine too pale in the firelight. His head bowed slightly down and his body too thin. He looked as if he hadn’t eaten in weeks yet still clung to life. Maybe he couldn’t die that way. Wyatt’s mind was analyzing his brother’s sate. It was trying to detach the image from his brother. Maybe he can only die from a dark lighter. Wyatt shook his head and saw Chris’ head rise not even an inch but it was enough.

His eyes were the greatest shock to Wyatt. They held no defiance, no joy, no spark or even the tiredness that let you know that the defiant sprit would be back later. They were voids as if someone had taken his soul form him in cruelty and left him nothing to filling the emptiness.

Wyatt’s eyes trailed down to his brother’s wrist and hands, neatly folded on front of him. The shackles on his wrists looked as delicate and fragile as his brother’s bones and he tried to move forward to get hem off. Yet, he felt no force behind his steps and stayed where he was. If Chris really tired to he could probably slip his thinned wrists through the cuffs to freedom but he stayed still, waiting.

Then Wyatt noticed the silk covering Chris body. It wasn’t clothes, just wraps that held in little warmth and held at bay even fewer eyes. The material was almost sheer as Wyatt could see his brother’s nipples through the fabric easily.

Wyatt saw who he was waiting foe a moment later. Barbus sat down on the bed behind Chris and stroked his neck. Wyatt could have heaved. The slimy demon was touching Chris so gently yet letting his nails scrape and leave long pink marks down Chris visibly tender skin. Wyatt pleaded to whatever gods still were willing to listen to stop this. To save his cherub before he was taken by this cruel fate.

He watched with horror as Chris gingerly turned his head and submissively, hell, begged for a kiss form the demon. One request that demon was more then willing to give onto. He locked his ancient lips over the young angel’s and claimed him.

Wyatt staggered back from the door and flamed as quickly to his chambers. Rushing to he bathroom, he heaved up his lunch and breakfast. Couldn’t stop heaving until it was all gone and he was resting his head against the cool ceramic bowl. He closed his eyes. The vision of his brother beaten so vividly etched in his mind ignored his pleading and mental begging to either fight the bastard or simply go away.

Now he understood why Chris hated a few of his powers. He had seen thing and not been able to change them in the past and Wyatt was afraid that this would happen. He finally pulled himself up a bit and saw Allison at the door looking utterly disgusted with Wyatt show of illness.

-tbc

I know not enough smut…next time, me promise.