Love you too little bro!
A/N. My first ever piece of fanfiction. Please be kind.
Disclaimer: I do not own Charmed.
Summary: Wyatt convinces Chris to help him with a vanquish. Cue annoying Wyatt, frustrated Chris, and a clinically insane demon. Brotherly-bonding fic.
Chris was going to kill Wyatt. He was going to brutally murder him. Wyatt convinced Chris to accompany him on what he was convinced was a simple vanquish of a Warlock, supposed to take no more than 10 minutes, in and out, home in time for date night. Instead he was spending his Saturday night taking cover behind a rock in some gloomy lair in the Underworld, whilst avoiding being incinerated by fireballs by over a dozen demons, with Wyatt nowhere to be seen. The first thing he was doing if he survived this, was orbing Wyatt into a volcano.
About an hour earlier
"No," said Chris, as he crossed the hallway to his room. "No freaking way am I going on a vanquish, I have a date tonight!" Wyatt had cornered Chris after he got out of the shower, insisting that he help him vanquish a Warlock he had been investigating.
"Oh come on, I've been tracking this guy all week, he's going to attack tonight across town. I need you! You'll be back in plenty of time for your date with Sandra."
Chris looked at him, "Lisa, her name is Lisa. And why do you need me? Surely you can take on this guy yourself?"
Wyatt responded as Chris made his way to his closet, "What happened to Sandra? I liked her."
Chris halted, turned around and looked at him, "There was no Sandra; there has never been a Sandra. I've been dating Lisa for six months. You know this; you've met her multiple times. She had dinner with all of us last week. God, what it must be like to live in that simple head of yours. Anyway, the Warlock?"
"Hey, I'm not simple!" Wyatt retaliated as Chris walked into his closet and closed the door over, "but I looked him up in the book and he can only be vanquished with a spell, which the book didn't give. So I need you to write one."
Chris stuck his head out from behind the door, "and why can't you write one yourself?"
"Because everyone knows I'm terrible at writing spells and that you're great at it. Or have you forgotten that time I accidentally turned Melinda into a kitten and you fixed it." Wyatt replied.
"How could I forget?" called Chris from the closet, "Mom made you scrub the kitchen floor with a toothbrush every day for a week, which wasn't nearly harsh enough in my opinion."
"Only because you told her what happened," said Wyatt coldly. "And I was ten, it was plenty harsh."
Chris emerged from the closet mostly dressed, carrying two shirts and smirking, "Yeah, good times." He held the shirts up to Wyatt, "blue or black?" He asked.
"Black, it compliments your eyes better." Chris quirked an eyebrow. "What? It does! Now are you going to help me or not?"
Chris laughed and put on the black shirt, tossing the other one over his chair. "I still don't want to, but if you really need me, and there are innocents in danger, then I don't see that I have a choice."
"Wonderful, you go to the attic and get working on the spell, and I'll get some snacks. Can't fight on an empty stomach!" Wyatt said cheerfully.
"You could help with the spell," said Chris pointedly.
"Hey, you're the smart, resourceful one, and I'm the pretty, powerful one. I'd just get in your way." Wyatt responded as they left Chris' room.
Chris considered that. "True point," he nodded. They split up once they got to the stairs, Chris going up, Wyatt going down. "Get me some chips while you're down there."
"Nuh uh! You have a date tonight; need to leave room for dinner. You'll have a glass of water and like it," laughed Wyatt as he ran off down the stairs.
"I hate you!" Chris called after him.
"Love you too little bro!" Wyatt yelled.
40 minutes later the boys were both in the attic. Chris was hunched over the Book of Shadows, researching their Warlock. Wyatt on the other hand was relaxed on the sofa stuffing his face with some week old Chinese food he found in the fridge. Chris would have been bewildered by this, but he'd seen Wyatt stomach much, much worse over the years, including one notable Thanksgiving when he single-handedly ate an entire turkey that had been covered in a strange green slime that had been left over from a demon which had been blown up by their mother. Ever since, Chris had never questioned his brother's seemingly iron stomach. Instead he was much more interested in what he'd read in the book.
"What the hell kind of Warlock name is 'Boris?' " Chris asked, baffled.
"Beats me dude." Wyatt replied. "Maybe it was a popular name when he was born? "
"Yeah, but you think he would've changed it when he grew up. I mean, it's not exactly the most threatening of names."
Wyatt laughed. "I can just imagine demons and witches all over world, living in fear of this guy. 'Run from me, I am the great and powerful Boris!' Ha! You got that spell ready?"
"I think so, but I'm not a hundred per cent on it. The book doesn't have a lot on him, just that he once worked for the Source before being banished by him for mocking his appearance. So I had to wing it a bit. It should work, but let's hope Boris isn't that powerful." Chris said.
"Teasing the Source of all Evil about his face. What an idiot." Wyatt got up from the couch and joined his brother by the book. "We should be going; he should be attacking in an alley across the city soon."
"Why is it always an alley? You think the demons might mix it up every now and again, but nope, always an alley. Ah whatever, as long as I'm back for my date in time."
Wyatt put his hand on Chris' shoulder and orbed them out of attic, while saying, "Calm down, it'll only take 10 minutes tops."
So here Chris was, dodging fireballs and attempting to take out as many demons as he could by himself. After orbing into the alley (and saving their innocent) the boys discovered that Boris wasn't working alone. After Wyatt threw him into a wall with his telekinesis, Boris called in reinforcements, three mildly powerful demons, before he blinked out of the alley. Wyatt decided that it was better if they split up, Wyatt would take on the demons, and Chris would go after Boris since he had the vanquishing spell. Chris followed him to his lair in the Underworld, where immediately upon orbing in, he'd found himself in a room full of demons. Diving behind a rock and cursing Wyatt for sending him after Boris alone, he began to try and take the demons out.
After vanquishing four of them with their own fireballs, and another three by impaling them with some handy rocks, he was seriously beginning to envy his older brother. While Chris was a powerful witch in his own right, Wyatt had that whole 'twice-blessed, great power' thing, allowing him to vanquish foes like these a lot quicker and easier than Chris. But while Wyatt had raw power, Chris had intellect and resourcefulness, so while continuing to call Wyatt every curse-word under the sun, and mentally planning his revenge on his sibling, he sent a telekinetic shockwave towards the ceiling of the cave above the demons. The result was as he had expected, and hoped. Stalactites began to rain down from the ceiling, rather graphically impaling some of the demons in the head, and killing them. Anyone else might have been disgusted, shocked or at least unnerved at the sight of it, but after years of doing and seeing this, it barely fazed him, and in fact made him mentally celebrate. His victory was short lived however, as one of the (few) remaining demons sent a fireball his way, catching him in the chest, and knocking him to the ground.
It was at this point that Wyatt finally orbed in.
"Where the hell have you been?" yelled Chris. Wyatt was about to say something, but Chris cut him off, "Never mind! Take them out!"
Wyatt did as he was told, and quickly vanquished all three demons left in the room. "Sorry I took so long," he said when he was done, "Those guys up top were pretty strong, and a few more showed up. No match for me though, you know, because I'm so awesome." He said happily and turning towards his brother. It was at this point he noticed Chris was lying on the ground, with a nasty looking bloody gash on his chest. Wyatt's face fell, and he ran to his brother.
"Relax, it's not as bad as it looks, just help me up." Chris said before Wyatt could talk. Wyatt obeyed.
"Hold still, I'll heal you."
"There's no time, we need to get Boris. After we arrived he made off down that passage." Chris pointed toward an opening in the cave wall.
Wyatt was unsure. "Chris, that wound nee-"
Chris cut him off again. "It'll take too long, Boris could get away. Now come on!"
They made their way across the room towards the opening. Through it was a dank, dark passage lit only by a few torches. The boys walked down it as fast as they could, while remaining vigilant of enemies. Chris had torn off one of the sleeves of his shirt to use as a makeshift bandage for his injury along the way, which was helping stop the bleeding.
A few minutes later they entered a relatively large room. The room was decorated lavishly, with what appeared to be fine wares and intricate trinkets. At the back of this room, and facing them, was a raised stage, upon which there was an enormous throne. Sitting in this throne was Boris, who had a smug look on his face.
"I am Boris the Belligerent." He said. "Welcome to my home. I see you have disposed of my armies. I am impressed with your power. However, you have interfered in my affairs tonight, and thus I am forced to destroy you."
"Armies? A Throne room? This guy is seriously insane. Clearly deluded." Chris whispered to his brother.
Wyatt whispered back, "Obviously, but that Throne is bitchin'." Chris rolled his eyes.
Boris continued on, oblivious of the brothers' conversation. "I have spent many years cultivating and building my kingdom into the immense force it is today."
"Immense you say, just how big and powerful is this kingdom? Because we did a little checking on you, and you aren't exactly well known. In fact, we could barely find any mention of you." Chris said.
"You dare interrupt me!" Boris roared. "I am the great and powerful Boris!"
Wyatt smirked at his brother, "Told you he'd say something like that."
Boris pointed at them. "You two are the Sons of Halliwell, powerful witches from the surface world."
"Oh wonderful, he's heard of us." Wyatt said smiling. "Sons of Halliwell is a new one though."
"Your reputation precedes you. You two have slayed many of my kind, and thus must pay for your crimes. You will not leave this room alive." Boris said, while getting up from his throne.
"Buddy, what makes you think you stand a chance against us." Wyatt asked confidently.
Boris was looking rather cocky at this point. "Firstly, because you are injured." He said, gesturing towards Chris, who was clutching his wound and looking alarmingly pale. "And secondly," he added, "because before you entered, I cast an anti-teleporting spell for this room. No-one is getting in or out, preventing you from escaping." Boris was looking even smugger than before after this announcement.
"Doesn't that prevent you from escaping as well? And stop you from summoning reinforcements?" Wyatt responded.
Boris' face drained of colour as realized the flaw in his plan. After a long pause he gathered himself again. "No matter, for I shall be the one who is victorious, and my minions will not be needed. Now, prepare for battle!"
Boris conjured a sword and shield for himself, and immediately started darting around the room like a hyperactive child. He jumped over tables and chairs, took cover behind tapestries, rolled over the floor, from one side of the room to the other. Chris and Wyatt were astounded to say the least, and stood stock still, mouths agape, watching his bizarre movements. When Boris reached the centre of the room, Wyatt lazily lifted the throne into the air and brought it down crashing on top of Boris' head.
"Chris, say the spell." Wyatt said, while Boris was struggling to free himself from underneath the heavy throne.
"Uh, right." Chris replied. Taking out the piece of paper in his pocket and unfolding it, he read,
"Under the Source you were disgraced,
Shamed by the one with the ugly face,
I vanquish you now with this spell,
See ya Boris, go straight to hell."
Boris' vanquish was one of the most pathetic Wyatt had ever seen. He just simply 'popped' out of existence. No explosion, no bang and no mess, just a little smoke, and even that looked boring.
Turning to Chris he asked, "Shamed by the one with the ugly face?"
"It worked didn't it." Chris said weakly, before collapsing to the ground, his injury finally getting the better of him. Wyatt quickly bent over Chris and started healing him, panic in his face. After a few moments longer than normal, his wound healed, and Wyatt pulled him up from the ground.
"Let's see, all in all that wasn't too bad was it?" Wyatt said as he looked around cheerfully.
Murder in his eyes, Chris grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him in close, "Wasn't too bad? We faced an army of demons! I got hit by a fireball! I almost died! I ruined my favourite shirt! What part of this wasn't too bad!"
Wyatt thought hard, "Well..."
"Yes?"
"You can still make your date." Wyatt said helpfully. "Might want to get changed first though." He added, gesturing towards Chris' torn, bloody shirt.
Chris released him, "Ughh, why do I even bother? We better get back to the manor; Boris' spell should've ended when he died. You owe me big time for this. I hate you.
Wyatt threw an arm around Chris' neck, and replied with an enormous grin on his face, while orbing them home "Love you too little bro."
THE END
Chapter two: 'Tarzan and the Battleaxe' will be up soon.