Title: Almost Human
Author: Cassandra Mulder
Feedback: Loved, and muchly adored.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Through season 6, particularly "Chris-Crossed".
Disclaimer: "Charmed" and the characters within belong to Constance M. Burge, Spelling Productions, and the WB. No infringement is intended.
Classification: Wyatt angst; Chris; futurefic
Distribution: My site, Bound, anyone else please ask.
Summary: Sometimes something inside of him was almost human. Wyatt Futurefic
Author's Notes: This was written for a flashfic project, and I probably never would've tackled it if I hadn't been challenged. Hope everything works all right.
*
Sometimes something inside of him was almost human.
It rarely came through, as he rarely let his guard down. Because when he did, the pain gnawed at his insides and preyed upon his mind.
He had loved them once, as they had loved him. It was hard for him to tell when things had become different. The change had been so slow, so very subtle, seducing him little by little. He could hardly remember a time when evil didn't pervade everthing he had, everything he was.
But there *had* been a time.
Subconsciously, it was all still there. Getting into mischief with his powers. His beautiful, brown-eyed mother, forever forgiving his actions, and always reassuring him that he would be okay.
The father that he favored with his blue eyes and his blonde hair. He'd been absent all too often, a higher calling stealing him away from his children.
He could still see and hear his two aunts, who had always done everything they could to fight for him, to protect him. Him and his brother.
His younger brother, whom he'd grossly mistreated and continued to at any opportunity.
They had all loved him, tried to keep him safe. But in the end, they had all failed.
Their blood, each and every one of them, save his brother's, was on his hands. His power, greater than all of his relations combined, had been too much to handle; had been too tempting to use to gain more power.
He'd devastated a world that would not accept him or what he was.
Wyatt Halliwell was a force to be reckoned with, and everyone that had had paid the price for it. The blood of hundreds, maybe even thousands more than just his family was on his hands. His heart had grown cold, numb to their pain, their screams, their begging for mercy. There was no mercy in his world.
San Francisco had fallen at his command, its citizens never seeing it coming. Now his drones roamed the city, scanning for witches, so his reign would never be threatened. When they were found, they were put to death immediately, sometimes by him, sometimes by his demon guards.
Always, he heard them scream...
"Bring him to me," he ordered one of his minions, and the faceless demon hurried to obey. He knew the consequences of hesitation.
Wyatt waited, staring out the window of his fortress, but not really seeing anything. The high tech landscape stretched out in front of him, the hover crafts darting in and out of it, but it wasn't comforting or familiar. Nothing was anymore.
He turned as two of his guards hustled in a young man with shaggy brown hair and blue eyes. He had not come willingly, but Wyatt had known that he wouldn't.
As soon as the door was closed behind them, he ordered the younger man released.
They only stared at each other for several moments, bitterness and contempt crackling between two sets of identical blue eyes.
"What do you want with me?" the dark haired one asked, breaking the deafening silence in the cavernous room.
"I know what you're planning, Chris, and brother or not, I won't let you get away with it."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Chris lied.
"You can't lie to me. You should know that by now."
"Oh, that's right. You're all powerful and all knowing. You're not God, Wyatt. You're not even *a* god."
With a mere flick of his wrist, Wyatt slammed Chris into the nearest wall.
"Violence fixes everything, doesn't it, Wyatt? A little smackdown here, a little murder there, and it's all better. Who taught you that, big brother? It wasn't our family."
Wyatt looked at him coldly, unblinking.
"The family you *murdered*," Chris spat at him.
Without thinking, Wyatt aimed an energy ball at his younger brother, and quickly had it flung back at him. It knocked him on the floor, but, as usual, did little damage.
Instead of trying to escape, Chris stood over him. "Oh, we're not feeling sorry about that now, are we?" he taunted. "It's only been eight years, you should be well over that one by now."
"You know nothing," Wyatt shot back, standing up.
"No, I really don't," Chris conceded. "I don't know why one of the most powerful forces on this planet wanted to use his powers for evil instead of good. Our mother was a Charmed One, Wyatt. She was one of the best people that I have ever known, along with Aunt Phoebe and Aunt Paige. And you killed them. Because of your desire to wipe out all good things, they're dead."
"There are things you'll never understand, so you'd be wise to hold your tongue."
"Why wouldn't I understand them?"
Wyatt sighed inwardly. They'd been through ths confrontation more times than he cared to think about.
"Because you're weaker. You always have been, Chris."
"That doesn't mean anything. This isn't about power, it's about character, and in that department, *you* have always been weaker."
"Tell me something, Chris. What do you have? I have power, I have wealth, and I can do what I want, when I want. No one can stop me."
"I had Grandpa. I have love, because of..." he stopped. His girlfriend, Bianca, was off limits.
"Because of Bianca?" Wyatt asked. "I know she's a traitor. You don't have to hide that from me. I knew she was going to betray me before she ever did. She always did have an eye for you, though I don't know why," he said with a sneer.
"She didn't betray you," Chris answered, knowing it was useless to pretend not to know what he was talking about. "She only wants to be free again. To see this city free again."
"It is free. Unless you're a witch."
"Or unless you're an innocent who gets in the way," Chris countered.
"I've heard enough," Wyatt said. He sounded calm enough, but Chris knew the look in his eyes, and he wasn't sure if he'd get away alive this time.
He turned to go, knowing Wyatt could do any number of things to him before his hand even touched the doorknob. He knew better than to orb. Any show of his own powers would only make things worse.
Wyatt let him go. He saw him walk out the door, and sensed it as he orbed back to wherever he'd been before he'd been captured. This cat and mouse game made no sense, and it never got him anywhere. On occasion he just wanted to make sure his brother was still out there. That he was all right. But he would never let him know that, because it was weakness. It might be the only thing that made him almost human.
Fin
Author: Cassandra Mulder
Feedback: Loved, and muchly adored.
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Through season 6, particularly "Chris-Crossed".
Disclaimer: "Charmed" and the characters within belong to Constance M. Burge, Spelling Productions, and the WB. No infringement is intended.
Classification: Wyatt angst; Chris; futurefic
Distribution: My site, Bound, anyone else please ask.
Summary: Sometimes something inside of him was almost human. Wyatt Futurefic
Author's Notes: This was written for a flashfic project, and I probably never would've tackled it if I hadn't been challenged. Hope everything works all right.
*
Sometimes something inside of him was almost human.
It rarely came through, as he rarely let his guard down. Because when he did, the pain gnawed at his insides and preyed upon his mind.
He had loved them once, as they had loved him. It was hard for him to tell when things had become different. The change had been so slow, so very subtle, seducing him little by little. He could hardly remember a time when evil didn't pervade everthing he had, everything he was.
But there *had* been a time.
Subconsciously, it was all still there. Getting into mischief with his powers. His beautiful, brown-eyed mother, forever forgiving his actions, and always reassuring him that he would be okay.
The father that he favored with his blue eyes and his blonde hair. He'd been absent all too often, a higher calling stealing him away from his children.
He could still see and hear his two aunts, who had always done everything they could to fight for him, to protect him. Him and his brother.
His younger brother, whom he'd grossly mistreated and continued to at any opportunity.
They had all loved him, tried to keep him safe. But in the end, they had all failed.
Their blood, each and every one of them, save his brother's, was on his hands. His power, greater than all of his relations combined, had been too much to handle; had been too tempting to use to gain more power.
He'd devastated a world that would not accept him or what he was.
Wyatt Halliwell was a force to be reckoned with, and everyone that had had paid the price for it. The blood of hundreds, maybe even thousands more than just his family was on his hands. His heart had grown cold, numb to their pain, their screams, their begging for mercy. There was no mercy in his world.
San Francisco had fallen at his command, its citizens never seeing it coming. Now his drones roamed the city, scanning for witches, so his reign would never be threatened. When they were found, they were put to death immediately, sometimes by him, sometimes by his demon guards.
Always, he heard them scream...
"Bring him to me," he ordered one of his minions, and the faceless demon hurried to obey. He knew the consequences of hesitation.
Wyatt waited, staring out the window of his fortress, but not really seeing anything. The high tech landscape stretched out in front of him, the hover crafts darting in and out of it, but it wasn't comforting or familiar. Nothing was anymore.
He turned as two of his guards hustled in a young man with shaggy brown hair and blue eyes. He had not come willingly, but Wyatt had known that he wouldn't.
As soon as the door was closed behind them, he ordered the younger man released.
They only stared at each other for several moments, bitterness and contempt crackling between two sets of identical blue eyes.
"What do you want with me?" the dark haired one asked, breaking the deafening silence in the cavernous room.
"I know what you're planning, Chris, and brother or not, I won't let you get away with it."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Chris lied.
"You can't lie to me. You should know that by now."
"Oh, that's right. You're all powerful and all knowing. You're not God, Wyatt. You're not even *a* god."
With a mere flick of his wrist, Wyatt slammed Chris into the nearest wall.
"Violence fixes everything, doesn't it, Wyatt? A little smackdown here, a little murder there, and it's all better. Who taught you that, big brother? It wasn't our family."
Wyatt looked at him coldly, unblinking.
"The family you *murdered*," Chris spat at him.
Without thinking, Wyatt aimed an energy ball at his younger brother, and quickly had it flung back at him. It knocked him on the floor, but, as usual, did little damage.
Instead of trying to escape, Chris stood over him. "Oh, we're not feeling sorry about that now, are we?" he taunted. "It's only been eight years, you should be well over that one by now."
"You know nothing," Wyatt shot back, standing up.
"No, I really don't," Chris conceded. "I don't know why one of the most powerful forces on this planet wanted to use his powers for evil instead of good. Our mother was a Charmed One, Wyatt. She was one of the best people that I have ever known, along with Aunt Phoebe and Aunt Paige. And you killed them. Because of your desire to wipe out all good things, they're dead."
"There are things you'll never understand, so you'd be wise to hold your tongue."
"Why wouldn't I understand them?"
Wyatt sighed inwardly. They'd been through ths confrontation more times than he cared to think about.
"Because you're weaker. You always have been, Chris."
"That doesn't mean anything. This isn't about power, it's about character, and in that department, *you* have always been weaker."
"Tell me something, Chris. What do you have? I have power, I have wealth, and I can do what I want, when I want. No one can stop me."
"I had Grandpa. I have love, because of..." he stopped. His girlfriend, Bianca, was off limits.
"Because of Bianca?" Wyatt asked. "I know she's a traitor. You don't have to hide that from me. I knew she was going to betray me before she ever did. She always did have an eye for you, though I don't know why," he said with a sneer.
"She didn't betray you," Chris answered, knowing it was useless to pretend not to know what he was talking about. "She only wants to be free again. To see this city free again."
"It is free. Unless you're a witch."
"Or unless you're an innocent who gets in the way," Chris countered.
"I've heard enough," Wyatt said. He sounded calm enough, but Chris knew the look in his eyes, and he wasn't sure if he'd get away alive this time.
He turned to go, knowing Wyatt could do any number of things to him before his hand even touched the doorknob. He knew better than to orb. Any show of his own powers would only make things worse.
Wyatt let him go. He saw him walk out the door, and sensed it as he orbed back to wherever he'd been before he'd been captured. This cat and mouse game made no sense, and it never got him anywhere. On occasion he just wanted to make sure his brother was still out there. That he was all right. But he would never let him know that, because it was weakness. It might be the only thing that made him almost human.
Fin