We are the Normal

I don't own Charmed, but Christian 'Kit' Doss is mine. Don't touch.

Rating: PG-13 to R. NC-17, you lucky gits you. LOL.

Warnings: BDSM (if you're lucky), Mysticism, language, sex (Again, if you're lucky), angst, romance, slash, and such.

Summery: Sometimes the things you lost aren't really lost to you at all. When a man shows up, asking for the Sisters help in saving his son Chris finds that destiny just won't be denied.

Notes: I had another series, that was Chris/Wyatt, but as it turns out, they're brothers, so I decided to just quit while I was still ahead. This one is also Slash though, Chris/OMC to be exact.

Added: Just realized I posted the wrong version here. Heh...so here is the properly edited and ffdotnet-safe version.

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Chapter One

I Wish You'd Come Back

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Chris watched, entranced as Kit worked. He was sitting cross-legged in front of a small fire, green eyes half shut, mouth open, and breath coming out in short gasps. His dirty-blond hair was sticky with sweat and sticking to his skin.

There was something mesmerizing about watching Kit tap into the other world. While Kit did have a few other talents, his main power laid in his summoning, a form of Necromancy, a forbidden Dark Art for most Witches and Wizards. Really Chris should have told someone or taken him to someone, for a form of punishment, but he couldn't do it, not to him.

Suddenly Kit cursed, loudly and sprang up, destroying the circle of willow branches he'd formed, followed by the candles and finally knocking over the bowl of water. His hands clenched at his side and he let out angry heaving breaths. Chris sat up and reached out for the younger teen, feeling flushed skin under his fingers as he pulled him close. Kit let out a soft mewing sound when Chris' lips skimmed over his forehead.

"Hey, Kit, don't worry about it. We'll find them."

Kit sighed and looked up at him, eyes glowing in the firelight. "It doesn't make sense, calling the Charmed ones with your help shouldn't be this difficult. You're of their blood, they should have sensed it on the other side and come running. It's me…they won't come to me. There is no way."

"Babe-" He ran his fingers through the damp hair. Kit had been at it for weeks, trying to call forth his mother and aunts to grant him strength to either bring Wyatt back to the Light, or to destroy him. Kit was putting everything he had into and yet…nothing.

"I'm not worthy." Kit said, pushing Chris away and kicking sand onto the fire. "You and I both knew this would happen, we were warned. I'm not pure Witch, you know my mother-"

"Your mother doesn't shape your future."

"Well, Chris, evidently she does." Kit shook his head as the fire died out, the crackling fading away and leaving only the sounds of the bay lapping against the nearby rocks. "Even with the son of a Charmed one at my side, my dark blood drowns out any chance I may have had."

He looked so frustrated and, though Chris loathed admitting that he thought such things, adorable.

The moon was high in the air, casting a soft glow into their cove. There was a cave in the nearby rocks, carved by the waters. During high tide the entrance was concealed and protected by the natural good magic of nature. Inside there was a narrow passage that led to a house that had long since sunken into the ground not far from the beach. During a battle or an earthquake Chris didn't know, but he knew it had become like home after Wyatt had driven him from the mansion.

He knew that wandering the beach he'd discovered Kit, hiding in this very home from his mother and family. A necromancer herself, she'd had plans for Kit that had involved taking over the Underworld, which had been dangerously derailed when the then teen had run away.

And now that Wyatt was in charge it was doubtful Kit's mother, as conniving and opportunistic as she was, had survived the transition. Still Kit was only half witch and there were times when he was possessed by an almost disturbing darkness.

A darkness that seemed to be the source of their troubles now. He needed the Power of Three to help him with Wyatt and Kit was the only person with the power that he could dare to trust, yet he couldn't break through the veil that separated the Witches of his family line from the rest of the Witches, who too were separate from the rest of the Good Mortals.

The veil into the normal 'heaven' was easy to pierce, and even the one leading to the resting place of witches Kit had done with no help from him, but getting to the Hall of Great Good was…impossible it seemed.

"I'm so sorry Chris." Kit whispered, looking at his hands.

"It isn't your fault that the higher powers cannot recognize a good heart when they see it." Chris said, shaking his head. "We should get some rest, maybe try something new in the morning."

Kit nodded and allowed Chris to take his hand. Chris took a deep breath and focused on their bedroom. Once they were in the room Kit pulled away and began to, with a mildly wicked grin, peel off his clothing. First a short sleeved mesh shirt, then a long sleeved t-shirt, and finally a wife beater, began to form a pile in the far corner of their room.

The strangest things made Kit horny.

Chris watched as each plane of pallid skin became exposed to him, lightly freckled and utterly tempting, in his opinion. Kit undid the top button of his jeans and, turning his back to him, pushed them down. At the small of his back was a tattoo. It had been a brand until recently, a lingering reminder of Kit's heritage. Then Chris had gone over it, forming it into the mark of the Charmed Ones, marking Kit as his and only his.

Anyone else stupid enough to touch him would pay for it dearly. Chris wasn't much for killing people, or hurting people really, but with the proper motivation.

Suddenly he had his arms full of warm body, damp skin pressing against his. Lips sought out his own and he responded eagerly, lapping and biting at the pale pink lips and, when Kit opened up for him, sucking on the nimble tongue of his lover.

Kit had a slight figure, average height but very slim, so much so that Chris could see the blue of his veins underneath his skin sometimes. Chris lifted him up easily and legs wrapped around his waist as Kit laughed, eyes darkening with lust. He carried him to the bed, which was really just two mattresses they'd dragged from other rooms in the house, and set him down. Kit moved onto his knees and, with deft fingers, undid the buttons on his shirt and pulled it off.

He leaned forward, warm breath wafting over Chris skin, and then his tongue carefully traced some of the old scars he'd learned by heart. Many of them he'd helped Chris clean and wrap up…battle scars. Chris shivered as Kit went over the more sensitive ones, sending sparks up his spine.

Chris sat up, shivering. It took a moment to realize the small window of his room was opened and a cool summer breeze was floating in, chilling him. He'd kicked his covers off at some point during that…dream, which explained why he was also sweaty and a touch on the sticky side. A slight wind dried the sweat from his flushed skin and he sighed, before letting out an annoyed breath.

A wet dream…what was he, twelve again? He rolled out of the bed and pulled off the sheets then orbed up into the laundry room. He looked around for a moment then chucked. He really did feel like he was twelve again and trying to find the evidence from mommy and the aunties, because how embarrassing was this?

Then again…when he's been twelve he hadn't actually known what sex was like, never had been haunted by dreams of a future that no longer existed, or of a lover he'd never touch again. He missed Kit so much it was almost…a psychical sort of pain, all of the time, constantly gnawing at his insides.

But the simple truth was that the Kit of his time wasn't the Kit he'd find in this time or the one who would exist in the now altered future. Who was to say what may change…he may have give over to his darker whims and truly forsaken the light.

Either way, he thought as he shoved his things into the washing machine, it wasn't his concern anymore. Wyatt was his one and only concern now. He had to ensure that the horror that his older brother could unleash was never let loose again, no matter what it took. He'd promised himself, and more importantly, he'd sworn it to Kit.

His lover had given everything to help him; he'd been utterly unselfish and…perfect, even in death. So much so that Chris had almost refused to believe he was truly dead when he found his body. It had seemed to wrong, even beyond Kit being dead, to see his lover like that; lifeless. No soft smile or strange energy surrounded him…he'd been empty.

Chris had made the decision to come back and fix things not too long after that.

He sighed and orbed back into the basement and his bed. He had, with the sisters' permission, made a little niche for himself down here. Something about being surrounded by stone and earth, feeling the magic of the Earth, made him feel at home.

He pulled his covers up, not sure if he'd actually get anymore sleep that night. He had, after all, just had an overly vivid dream about one of the last times he'd been with Kit. He doubted very much that sleep would be easy in coming.

TBC

Next Chapter: Kenta Doss approaches the sisters for help.