Disclaimer: I own nothing! WB owns Charmed and Fleet Foxes owns the title!
Alright, here's my second attempt at Charmed FanFiction. My last story is stuck in what seems to be a permanent writer's block, so I'm giving this a try.
If no one really likes it, I'll just stop writing it. I've got another story I'm working on for Gilmore Girl's too, so I have that to fall back on.
Enjoy the first chapter!
"Oh Christopher," Wyatt paced back and forth with ease, keeping a watchful eye on his younger brother. He wore all black, his leather trench coat tail falling behind him, lifted upward do to his strides. He suddenly stopped and turned as he noticed his brother trying to fight the restraints that held him in place. The chains clanked as they smashed into cold concrete, and Chris tried to focus, perhaps trying to use the last of his strength to break the chains with his telekinesis. Wyatt watched with amusement as the younger Halliwell tugged and pulled at the heavy chains, his raw and bloody wrists rubbing up painfully against the sharp metal cuffs. His attempt wasn't working, sadly, and he was too weak to use any of his powers.
Wyatt clicked his tongue, "Christopher, Christopher, Christopher. Stop trying to break free, watching your sad attempts is rather painful."
Chris continued trying to free himself, ignoring his brother's comments. The pain in his wrists were unbearable, but he kept trying to pull free. Red and raw wrists were only a small price for freedom.
His brother's boots smacked against the ground in a strong stride as he elegantly made his way over to the younger boy. He leaned down and cupped the boy's chin, forcing his brother's head up gently. The boy's brown hair fell away from his face and revealed his jade eyes, "I said stop it, Christopher." Wyatt repeated, this time with a more authoritative tone.
Christopher stared up at his brother, fighting to keep consciousness. His lips curled into a smirk and he matched his brother with a provoking glare, "Make me," he challenged with a raw voice. His smirk grew wider as he waited.
Wyatt let out a laugh and turned, taking a few steps back, "Oh, Christopher, you always loved to compete with me." His hand slid into his pocket as he turned, watching his brother with a matching smirk, "We always used to see who could pull off the best spell or who was stronger." He took steady steps as he made his way back over to his brother, "You were quite good with spell casting, I remember," he kneeled down in front of his brother, the boy's eyes following him with a challenging glare, "But you were never quite stronger than I was, were you?"
Wyatt let out a sigh and stood back up, turning once again to take a few strides back, "I'm going to ask again, Christopher," he told his younger brother as he turned to face the boy, hands behind his back, "Join me. With your strategic skills and my strength, we could rule this world side by side."
Chris let out a rough, painful laugh--a mix of both coughing and chuckles. He looked up at his brother between dirty, blood-caked strands of hair, "Wyatt, how many times must we go through this? I. will. never. join. you."
Wyatt let out a disappointed sigh and shook his head regretfully, "Fine," he spoke, "if you really want to do this, then we will."
Wyatt flung his hands out from behind his back with a swift motion and threw an energy ball his brother's way as if it was nothing more than a baseball. The purple and black ball hit Chris faster than he could imagine, and he let out a blood-curling scream. He had wanted to contain it, but he was just too weak to keep on his usual unaffected mask. Pain was bleeding through the cracks and he could do nothing to stop it.
Wyatt strode up to him in quick, paced steps and leaned down to his fallen brother's form. The younger Halliwell lay motionless on the cold cement floor, his breath coming out in hard, painful gasps.
"I told you Christopher," Wyatt spoke up, sliding a hand gently into his pocket, "I was always stronger."
Wyatt slid a dagger out of his pocket, hand gripping the cold steel handle tightly. He shoved the dagger straight into Chris' shoulder, the boy letting out a sharp gasp. The pain was excruciating, and he could instantly tell that the dagger had been poisoned. He felt as the poison began its way slowly through his blood, and held in the screams that were dying to come out.
"Christopher ... Chris!"
Chris sat up with a start, the door to his room slamming open right as he sprung up. Wyatt stood before him, dressed in a pair of jeans and a gray t-shirt. No trench coat, no black, none of it, "Mom says to get up. It's 7:43: you're going to be late," he paused, his lips curling into a smirk, "speaking of late, when did you get in last night again? A time that mom and dad definitely wouldn't approve of ... and come to think of it, in a state that mom and dad wouldn't approve of either."
"Get out, Wyatt!" Chris yelled as he swung his arm out, causing the door to slam straight in his face.
"Now," Wyatt called from behind the door, voice muffled and softer as he walked towards the stairs, "That is what we'd consider personal gain!"
Chris whipped the sheets off his bed and swung his legs off the side. He stood up and made his way over to his dresser, pulling out a pair of jeans, a shirt, and a sweatshirt. As he yanked off his shirt, his eyes fell down to the spot where Wyatt had stabbed him in his ... what was the name he had come up for it? It wasn't a premonition for him; they usually didn't happen when he was asleep, and that felt too real to be a dream. He had felt that knife sliding in, he swore it. The pain had ripped through his own body just as it did to the other him. It would be considered a vision, he supposed. That was the name he came up for it. He didn't know if it was real or not, but, God, did he hope it wasn't.
His eyes fell down to his shoulder, looking to find any kind of marking to prove that something had happened. There was no gash though, and his skin was perfect and unscarred. He rubbed a hand over the part where the blade had broke through in his vision. There was nothing, the pain was gone and all he was left with was this strange feeling about it all.
Chris' eyes fell onto the clock on his night table and cursed when he noticed the time. He quickly slid on his t-shirt and shrugged into his sweater. He stepped into his jeans as he made his way over to his bed. Kneeling down, he began to dig under the frame, patting the bare ground until his hand hit the box he was looking for. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and slid them into a hidden slot in his backpack that sat at the foot of his bed. He never went anywhere without a pack of cigarettes now a days, especially with these visions he'd been having lately. They confused him, and whenever he tried to sort them out, he'd suddenly crave a cigarette. The visions freaked him out, to be honest, and the fact that whenever the other him was in pain he felt it equally was a real annoyance. Being a Halliwell, he had gotten used to pain like that, but it didn't mean that it still didn't hurt like hell. The pains made him almost want to tell his mom or dad about it, but he quickly decided otherwise. They would want to know what he was seeing, and he didn't want to tell them. Wyatt wasn't evil, his dad and him weren't estranged, and his cousins weren't being picked off left and right by Lord Wyatt. Maybe there was some non-magical explanation to all of this, he thought as he exited his room and headed down the stairs, turning into the kitchen, maybe he was just going crazy or something.
"Chris!" his mother's scream quickly snapped him out of his thoughts, causing him to look up at the dagger that was flying his way and the demon that had sent it. With a quick wave of his arm, he sent the demon flying backwards into a wall before dashing aside in an attempt to dodge the dagger. He had been too slow, and the dagger hit him in the shoulder, the same spot where Wyatt had stabbed him in the dream. The dagger had been aimed for his heart but, somehow, the knife hit him in the same exact place as it had in his vision.
"Shit!" he cursed as he fell to the ground, cradling his hurt shoulder. He felt the same amount of pain, the same burning sensation traveling through his blood. It was poisoned, "Oh shit!" He exclaimed, eyes wide at the realization. He quickly pulled out the dagger and threw it to the floor. His crimson red blood stained the shining metal blade. Droplets fell onto the floor and he quickly went to cover the wound, his eyes traveling up to watch the scene in the kitchen.
Wyatt had taken over, his arms flailing about, energy balls being shot out left and right. Piper had on an angry and aggressive expression, her hands out and ready to blow up the demon if necessary. Once Chris had sent the thing hurdling into her cabinet she knew things were going to get messy. Leo watched from beside his wife, eyes glued to the fight being played out between his eldest son and the demon. They all watched as the demon dodged the energy balls quickly, the balls instead hitting against wooden cabinets and pans instead. The kitchen was a mess, and the breakfast Piper had made was spilled all over the floor, pieces of toast and trails of eggs scattered about the tile. The demon suddenly threw out another dagger, this time towards Wyatt. Paige had orbed in somewhere after Chris had been hit, and she quickly swung out her hand and called out its' name, orbs consuming the small metal and sending it straight towards the demon, hitting it square in the heart. The demon was consumed in a mad swirl of orange and blue flames, and Paige wiped her hands and crossed her arms, "Aren't you happy that I stopped in this morning?" she asked with a smirk, turning her head to the side to look at Piper.
Piper rolled her eyes at her sister, stopping them quickly when she spotted her youngest son slouched against the door frame, clutching his shoulder and breathing slowly.
"Chris!" she called, causing all four sets of eyes to go wide and as they spotted the condition the youngest Halliwell was in.
Paige, being the closet to the boy, was at his side first, her hands held up against the gushing wound. The other rushed to his side, Piper and Leo kneeling down next to Paige, each wearing expression of worry and fear. Wyatt stood behind his parents, wearing a similar expression as his parents. Paige waited for the golden glow to illuminate the area around the wound, but when nothing happened, she grew frantic.
She looked behind her towards Leo and Piper, fear lacing her features, "It's not working," she told them, voice frightened.
"The dagger was poisoned," Chris' voice caught their attention, and they all looked down towards him. His eyes were partially opened now, and he looked up towards Wyatt, skin incredibly pale.
"Why are you just standing there?" he asked his brother, "Get your ass over here and heal me."
"He can't heal you, Chris. If the dagger was poisoned--which I don't understand how you know--we need to find the antidote--" Leo started, looking over his son's wound with worry before getting cut off by the boy.
"No, you don't," his eyes travelled from Leo to Wyatt, "Wyatt can heal me. Just trust me on this, I know hecan." He couldn't explain it to them, they wouldn't understand. Wyatt had stabbed him in the dream, and he knew his brother was bent on getting the other him to join him, so he would not kill him. That meant that the poison that Wyatt had used for the dagger had to be weak enough that the Twice-Blessed could heal it himself. The poison running through his blood now had the same burning sensation as the one Wyatt had used in his dream, and it couldn't be a coincidence that the dagger hit the same exact spot.
Paige, Leo, and Piper all looked up at the older boy, moving aside to let him kneel down in front of his brother, "Chris..." Wyatt started, but was cut off by his brother's roll of the eyes as Chris' weak hands grabbed onto his wrists, forcing his hands up to his injured shoulder, "I just know," he insisted, looking up at his brother, his dulled jade eyes meeting Wyatt's lively ones. Within seconds, the golden glow that had not appeared from Paige's hands illuminated from Wyatt's, and each member of the family went wide-eyed as they watched the wound close up and Chris' limp body regain its life.
Chris stood up from his spot on the ground and examined his healed shoulder while his family stared at him with curious and bemused looks. He moved his stiff shoulder around until the stiffness had vanished almost completely.
"Chris," Leo started, watching as his son pulled at his blood stained sleeve, "How did you--"
"Dammit," Chris cursed, "this was one of my favorite shirts," he released the fabric from his fingers, eyes still staring at the red stained fabric. He gave a shrug of his shoulders and grabbed his backpack from off the ground and made his way over to the stairs.
"I've got to get changed quickly, don't want to be late for school," his eyes fell onto Wyatt, who wore a similar expression to his father's, before turning back to his parents, "By the way, if Wyatt tells you I was out past curfew last night, he's lying," Chris gave them a small smirk and turned, "actually, anything he tells you about last night is all a lie." With that, the youngest Halliwell ran up the stairs and quickly entered his room to find a change of clothes.
"So, Chris is still rebelling?" Paige asked, causing Wyatt, Piper, and Leo to set their gazes her way. Paige's lips curled into a smirk and she crossed her arms, her eyes moving upwards towards the second floor, "He takes after Phoebe. He even started having premonitions around the same time as her."
"Let's hope he isn't as badas Phoebe was, then," Piper spoke with a roll of her eyes. It was true that Chris had started to rebel, but she liked to believe it wasn't as bad as Phoebe's rebellion. Phoebe had taken the word deviant to new extremes. Piper was surprised she even made it past eighteen. Chris, on the other hand, hadn't been doing things that were too bad. Coming home late and disappearing for hours with no word was the worst she had caught him doing. Hopefully he wasn't doing anything worse...
Wyatt held back a snort and crossed his arms, eyes turning towards the stairs. His brother was probably ten times worse than Phoebe, if he knew anything about who his brother was. Sure, the boy didn't get into much trouble at school and came home with descent grades, but when he went out with friends he really went wild. The night before, when Chris had orbed in past curfew into his room by mistake--completely drunk and staggering--he had witnessed it first hand. He had had to help his brother get to his room as quiet as possible, and when you were dealing with a drunk sixteen year old, that was hard. That night, though, Chris had admitted something that really peaked his interest. He had asked his brother why he kept doing this, why he got so drunk like this, and the kid responded, "You don't have to deal with seeing all that shit," Chris shut his eyes and adjusted himself on the bed, "You don't have to see it, but I do." He had asked what he had meant, wondering if his younger brother meant his premonitions, but Chris was already out cold.
"Wyatt?" His mother called out his name, and the older Halliwell quickly snapped back into reality. Piper was standing in front of him, arms crossed.
"Huh?"
"Is your brother still upstairs, or did he already orb out?" she asked, probably knowing the answer before Wyatt even had to try to sense him.
"He's at school," Wyatt said after a moment, having to concentrate to get a fix on his brother. The younger Halliwell had been trying pretty hard to break off their bond, but it never seemed to work for him. He usually resorted to blocking him now a days, when he didn't want to be found or he didn't want Wyatt to know where he was. Chris wasn't dumb, the kid knew he'd report his brother's whereabouts if he was anywhere that he would deem sketchy.
Piper nodded her head and turned to look towards her husband. They were going to have to have a talk with their son later that day, she knew that, and so did Leo. He gave her a nod of understanding and looked towards their other son, "Get off to school, Wyatt, you're going to be late."
Wyatt nodded, but didn't make a move. He hesitated for a moment, before speaking up, "How did he know I'd be able to heal him?" He had spoken the question that had stayed on everybody's minds since the golden glow had came from Wyatt's hands.
"I don't know," Leo spoke up. He had no clue how Chris knew that, and most poisons could not be healed by the skills of a Whitelighter. Maybe it was because Wyatt was Twice-Blessed. That factor did strengthen both he and Chris' powers. Maybe Wyatt's healing was strong enough to heal that type of poison? He'd have to look it up at Magic School later, there had to be some sort of explantation of how Wyatt did it and how Chris knew it would work. He had found Chris in the vast library at Magic School quite a few times, so he was suspecting he had read it in one of the many books that adorned the shelves, "I've got to get to Magic School," Leo told the three, eyes landing on Paige, "classes start soon."
"We should go," she strolled over to her brother-and-law and place her hand on his upper arm, "tell me when you guys figure out an answer though, I'm just as curious as you three as to how Chris knew that," she gave her sister an assuring smile and added, "I'll see you tonight for dinner."
Piper gave a nod and waved as she watched her sister and husband orb away. She turned to her son, who had gone off for a few seconds the retrieve his backpack from the kitchen, and gave him a smile, "You better get going too," she told her son, "I'm going to have to get started on cleaning up the kitchen. It's a disaster zone in there."
Wyatt gave a nod, but caught his mother's worried glance. He knew she was still thinking about Chris and his latest string of rebellions. She always worried about what he was doing and why he was doing it. She wondered where the old Chris had gone; the one who would sit in the kitchen and help her bake a batch of cookies, the one who actually liked to spend time with his family. Now all Chris did was try to get away from them.
"Don't worry, mom," he assured her, catching her attention, her brown eyes going wide, "Chris is going to end up okay. Phoebe did, didn't she?"
Piper let out a sigh and nodded. Wyatt kept up his assuring smile, something that always seemed to send comfort to his mother, before orbing out: he was incredibly late for school.
Piper just stood there, thinking over what had happened earlier that day with the demon and the conversation the four of them had had about Chris. Everyone just said he was going through a phase like Phoebe. Paige, Henry, Leo, Coop, and even Phoebe kept assuring her this was all just some passing thing. They said it was no big deal, and that he was going to blow past this just like Phoebe did.
"I don't think this is like Phoebe's," she spoke up, admitting her fear aloud even though no one was there to hear, "I think this may be worse."
She didn't know why, but she had a feeling there was something behind all of this, something that Chris was hiding from them. That gut feeling told her it was something terrible, and that they wouldn't find out about it in a good way. Something was going to happen, she just didn't know what.
Thank you all for reading, and tell me what you think!
If no one really likes it I'll take it down and be done with it. It was just an idea that came to me, and I wanted to try it.
Thank you all for reading and hopefully reviewing! :)