This is the beginning of a Journey Through Time, which is my own try at a season 6 rewrite. It is mainly written through Wyatt and Chris' point of view. The more dramatic changes in the season happen more towards the middle and end of the season, while there are mostly subtle changes in the beginning. I originally started posting this story at the Charmed Sons and am much further ahead with my chapters there. I just thought I would post here too and see what anyone thought...
The rain pelted against the face of the young warrior as he walked through the black night. Clouds had over taken the moon, kept any light from shining on the dim world. Very few lights lit the alley way as he walked through it.
This man was not a typical warrior. He was a son, a brother, a lover, and a friend to many. He was a warrior against those that wished this world harm. He did not use guns or knives in his fight, but powers, magical powers, those with which he was born. He was not your average man. He was a witch and a white lighter, a powerful being in his own right, but there were others in the world more powerful than he.
There were prophesies of a twice blessed witch, one whom would have ultimate power. When three planets burn as one over a sky of dancing light, magic will rest for a holy day to welcome a twice blessed child. That child was the young man's brother, his older brother. His brother was one of those more powerful than he and the young man was set out to stop him.
As the young man walked through the alley, he pulled his hood closer to his face. It was of no use though, he had been already soaked from the rain. Lightening flashed across the sky, finally lighting the world. It lasted only a mere second and thunder soon followed, seemingly vibrating through his body. He didn't care for thunderstorms and wished he was in the safety of his warm bed. He knew he wouldn't get much sleep, he hardly slept at all these days, but he would feel safer.
Finally, he reached his destination. He thrust open the doorway to an old warehouse, entered, and shut it quickly behind him, trying to keep out the raging storm or any evil that sought to destroy him. He took his jacket off and shook the rain from it. His clothes were drenched and his hair was plastered to his forehead. He looked pale and tired under the dim lighting of the warehouse.
There were many people spread around the room, some sleeping, some reading, and some talking amongst themselves. A few looked up to notice Christopher Perry Halliwell entering the warehouse, but chose not to address him. They assumed he would head straight to his room to try and hide from the ravenous storm outside. They all knew of his hate for thunderstorms.
He walked passed a few of the people, merely nodding to them in acknowledgment. He headed to a door near the opposite side of the warehouse, making his way though the doorway into a room, his room. It was his small sanctuary from the others, from the outside world.
Someone was awaiting his return. It was a woman, slightly shorter than he was, with deep auburn eyes and straight brown hair that sat at her shoulders. "Where have you been?" Bianca asked ever so curiously. He had run out on her earlier, said he needed to think about some things. It always frustrated her when he claimed he needed to think about things, because it meant him running head first into the world without anyone to help protect him. For the most part, Chris could protect himself, handle threats that tried to attack him. When he was confronted by his brother, that was not always the case. "I was worried about you." She said.
He pulled his wet shirt over his head, setting in on a chair near the the mattress that was his bed. "I was just out walking, trying to clear my head. Nothing attacked me, you don't need to worry." He explained, looking into Bianca's eyes, lost in them. His heart was warmed by her presence. The raging storm outside was forgotten as he took off the rest of his wet clothes and settled into bed next to her. "I can't believe we are actually going to do this." He said softly, as his breathing relaxed and he felt her warm skin against his own. He felt safe in her arms, never wanting to leave them. Soon enough though, he would be leaving them, leaving to make a better life for their future.
"We have to do this. We have to save this world, save our future. Aside from killing Wyatt, this is the only way." She said as she pulled him closer.
"You know that I could never kill him, he's my brother." He replied. "He's the only family I have left."
"I know. I never expected you to kill him and neither has anyone involved with the resistance." She said solemnly.
Chris didn't want to kill his brother, only to save him. His brother had grown to be the most powerful witch in the world and even with the powers in which he was born with, his brother still yearned for more. His brother took over the underworld and then, turned his eyes to the city of San Francisco, terrorizing everyone he could. The city was in complete disarray, complete chaos. Wyatt had an insatiable thirst for power and stopped at nothing to gain that power. Chris banded together with a group of witches that wanted to stop his reign of terror as he started to inflict his wrath on the rest of the outside world. They called themselves the resistance and held themselves up in this old warehouse, which was cloaked with magic to prevent Wyatt or any of his right hand demons from finding it.
The resistance fought against everything that Wyatt did, fought to protect the lives of others, the fate of the city, even the fate of the world. They were a small group and had little hope of winning the fight. Still, they did what they could to stand in his way.
"Tomorrows a big day." Chris said. He laid his head back against the pillows. "We should get some sleep." He knew she would sleep or he had hoped she would. She usually slept quite peacefully on most nights. He hardly slept at all and it showed. Every day he looked and felt tired, not just from the lack of sleep, but from fighting off demons and keeping his brother at bay. He was tired of the life he was living, wished like hell that he could make things better, better for him and Bianca. He wished he could have things the way they were in the past, before he had lost most of his family. Even though his father was not around much, they were a happy family. They were very far from normal, as there lives revolved around magic. Him and Wyatt were close, practically best friends. Things had changed after the untimely death of their mother. Wyatt had changed and not for the better. Chris hoped that tomorrow would be the day that he would start on his journey to change all of that, to rewrite what is and what was.
His eyelids began to get heavy. Exhaustion was setting in and his body grew weak. He closed his eyes, certain that even though he was exhausted, he would get any sleep. He was wrong. In a matter of minutes, he was sleeping soundly, the weight of the world forgotten as thoughts slipped from his mind and everything went dark.
Wyatt Matthew Halliwell paced the living room of his highrise apartment. He paused at the balcony door and looked out over the desolate city. The storm raged on, pelting rain against the doors and windows of the apartment. Wind pushed at the balcony door, trying to break through. His wrath had nearly destroyed the city, but he could have cared less about the city. He only cared about finding his baby brother, having him at his side.
Wyatt had demons at his beckoning call night or day, but his life was quite lonely. He yearned to have family at his side, but most of his family had just gotten in his way. He did what was needed to keep them out of his way, killing if necessary. He had wanted to kill his brother at one point, even sent an assassin out to perform the task. She fell in love with him and betrayed Wyatt. At least those were the rumors he had heard. He hadn't heard from the assassin in quite some time. He was furious with her, but was more furious with himself.
Chris had been the only family he had left. They used to be inseparable as children. In fact, they were best friends. As they got older, Chris could not except what Wyatt was becoming. He couldn't except that Wyatt was trying to make a better world for himself, for Chris. They had lived through much heartache and pain after the death of their mother and Wyatt had never wanted to feel such pain again. If he was in control of things, no one would be able to make him feel pain or anything for that matter. He preferred to keep his emotions closed off, as he thought it would be a sign of weakness to show them.
A demon shimmered in behind Wyatt. "Sire." He said, trying to get his leader's attention. Wyatt turned abruptly, pushing his thoughts aside. "I'm sorry, but we still can't locate the resistance."
"What?" Wyatt questioned angrily. He had fists clenched at his sides. He unclenched them as soon as he realized that he was showing emotion, something he deemed as a weakness. He calmed himself. "I can sense that my brother is planning something, something big. We have to find him and finding the resistance brings us closer to finding him."
"I understand Sire, but they must have their locations cloaked. We have tried a multitude of ways to find them and we aren't getting anywhere with our search." The demon said, hoping that he wasn't invoking his leaders wrath. Wyatt hardly showed emotion, but if he was displeased with something or someone, everyone would know. He had vanquished many demons that have either gone against him or failed at their tasks.
"So, what are you doing here?" Wyatt asked curiously. "Get back out there and find them." He waved out his arm, sending the demon away in a swirl of black orbs. He wanted to be alone, wanted to watch the storm outside as it terrorized the city.
When he was a child, thunderstorms had always seemed to excite him. Chris had never liked them and on several occasions, he would sneak into Wyatt's room with a sleeping bag in tow so he could sleep on his floor. Wyatt had told him that he would protect him from the scarey storms, protect him from anything that wished him harm. They both vowed to be their for each other. Sometime along the way, that had changed. After their mother's death, they had drifted apart.
Wyatt felt emotions seeping into him once more. He quickly pushed them away, pushed out his childhood memories. He was happy when he was a child and even after all he had done to mold the world, he was never quite as happy as he had been as a child.
The storm continued to rage outside of his apartment. Lightening lit up the world and thunder cracked. The storm had been getting worse. The rain pelting the windows was so loud that Wyatt could barely hear his own thoughts.
He walked over to a cabinet on the other side of the room. Atop the cabinet sat the infamous book of shadows, a book that had been passed down through each generation of his family, growing with each descendant. He didn't want the book though. He opened a drawer and pulled out a map and a scrying crystal. He had scryed for his brother on other occasions. When he wasn't in the sanctuary that the resistance had called home, Wyatt had been able to find Chris through scrying.
He set the map on the large wooden table that stood in the room with four chairs, two on each side. He pulled one of the chairs away from the table so he could stand closer. He reached in his pocket of the black jeans he had been wearing. In order to scry for his brother, he needed something of his for the crystal to focus on . He had a necklace of Chris', a silver triquetra. It hung on a chain made of black leather. Wyatt had given it to Chris for one of his birthdays, only to have it thrown in his face years later.
On Chris' eighth birthday Wyatt had given him the necklace as a present. He told Chris that it was good luck, that it would protect him when he was not able to be there for him. Chris accepted his gift and wore it day after day, rarely taking it off. He had felt honored that Wyatt had given him such a gift.
On Chris' eighteenth birthday, Wyatt and Chris argued. Wyatt wanted Chris to understand his views, his way of thinking. He wanted him to understand why he was seemingly terrorizing the city. Chris would not succumb to his ways though. Wyatt had let his anger get the better of him and formed an energy ball in his hand, letting it grow as it rotated in his palm. In frustration, he unleashed it and it went flying towards his brother. That was the first time he had actually attempted to harm Chris. Chris tried to avoid being struck. He moved quickly, but the energy ball grazed his shoulder. Searing pain rushed though his shoulder and down into his left arm.
Chris could barely believe that his own brother would try to kill him or even harm him. He raised his right hand, reaching for the necklace. He ripped it off and threw it at Wyatt. Clearly, it was no means of protection as Wyatt had claimed. "Until you stop all of this madness, we are no longer brothers." Chris had said before he had orbed out of the manor. Wyatt reached down for the necklace and started to feel pain boiling inside of him, started to feel loss. It was the same feeling he felt when his mother had died. His finger traced over the triquetra and then, he shoved it into his pocket. He pushed his emotions aside, trying to get a hold of himself. He was setting out to change the world so he would never have to endure those feelings again.
Wyatt held the necklace, intertwined it with the crystal. He dangled the crystal over the map, trying to find his brother. Minutes passed and still the crystal had not revealed a location. He was beginning to get very frustrated. He had no idea what his brother had planned, but he knew he had to find him before his plans were put into action.
After standing at the table for nearly half an hour, Wyatt shoved his fists down at the table in frustration. It rattled slightly, causing a glass that was on it to spill over. Water ran across the table, seeping into the sides of the map. "Damn it." He muttered to himself as his eyes rolled in dismay. He tilted the glass back to its upward position and picked the map up, letting the water drip from it. His emotions were beginning to get harder and harder to control now.
He dropped the map back onto the table, allowing it to land right back in the water. In his anger, he pushed at the table, flipping it on it's side. He clenched his fists at his side again and stormed away from the table. "Control yourself." He thought as he made his way to his bedroom. Now was not the time so show weakness. He could not afford to lose control of himself, could not allow himself to feel. He sat on the edge of his bed. He ripped his boots off and thrust them aside. He stood and stripped down to his boxers.
Laying in bed, he tried to push out his thoughts. He was focused merely on sleeping and making sure his head would be clear in the morning. It took only a few minutes for him to calm himself and be free of his emotions and thoughts. He drifted off to sleep soon after.
Reviews anyone? Will post a bit more soon...