The golden glow faded from Wyatt's vision revealing the darkened manor attic. The absence of Patty and Jennifer seemed to indicate the spell was successful. He'd been moved through time. But how far back? The only Witches powerful enough to pull off a time switch such as the one he was attempting had been his mother and her sisters, and Wyatt wasn't sure if he, his sister and cousin packed the same magical punch.
"Only one way to find out...", Wyatt muttered to himself.
Outside the San Francisco sky was dark and clouded, with the hint of a full moon visible. A pale light barely illuminated the attic, which certainly looked different. The Book was still there, of course, but Wyatt couldn't place most of the junk and furniture he could see.
With a deep breath he opened the attic door and quietly descended to the second floor. The house was dark and still and Wyatt felt like an intruder in the manor he'd grown up in for seventeen years.
Slowly and deliberately he opened the door to his mother's bedroom. The same one she'd shared with his father. A choked sigh escaped his lips as he glimpsed his mother and father asleep on the bed in the passing moonlight. By the side of the bed a baby gurgled happily to itself in it's cot.
So strange to see yourself as a baby thought Wyatt, as he carefully snuck to the childs side. For a moment the feeling of dread that had followed him from the future left him, as the hand of his infant self wrapped itself around his own seventeen year old hand, causing young Wyatt to gurgle happily.
Wyatt smiled and stepped closer, caught up in the moment, oblivious to the creak of floorboards underneath. On the bed Piper's eyes fluttered sleepily open as she mumbled Wyatt's name, reacting to the sound.
Wyatt froze, panicked. What if his mother's first instinct at finding a stranger next to the crib was to blow him up? As a Witch the power would normally have no effect upon him, but while sharing the same temporal space as his younger self he was completely powerless. Fear caused his blood to pound through his temples, while also keeping him rooted to the spot.
"Mom...", Wyatt whispered hoarsely, without intending to.
"Wyatt?", Piper questioned, eyes flying open. "Leo!", she yelled, bolting upright in bed, hands flying up defensively, ready to employ her powers.
"Mom, Mom, Mom...", Wyatt began repeating, more to himself than anyone else. And then he was sobbing, as he stumbled to the bed and collapsed at its side, hands stretched out across the mattress to Piper, face buried in the covers as he began to cry. Barely he was aware of his father getting up, approaching him. Of his childhood self crying and being lifted from the crib behind him, craddled protectively. Of a rapid exchange of fragmented words. 'Demon'. 'Crazy'. 'Dangerous'. And finally his mother, hands in his hair and on his back, soft voice calming his father.
"It's OK Leo. Let him cry. Just let him cry", and then in his ears, through the sound of his own sobs, "It's OK. It's going to be OK".
***
Wyatt wasn't sure how long they stayed like that. He had cried himself out and then just lay there, curled on the bed and silent. Piper silently stroked his hair, having sent Leo downstairs with the baby Wyatt and her sisters.
It was so perfect that Wyatt was scared to move for fear he'd destroy it. Even before she'd died his mother had seemed sad much of the time. He couldn't ever remember her this beautiful and comforting, this fiercely loving.
"Do you want to tell me what this is about now?", Piper asked him quietly.
Wyatt didn't move, but had to hold back a fresh round of tears at the sound of her voice.
Unable to turn at look at her. Look into her eyes. Wyatt just simply said, "I'm your son Mom. I'm Wyatt".
The room was silent again, but Wyatt noticed that Piper's hand continued stroking his hair and her presence remained comfortingly close.
"I know it's hard to believe, and...", he continued after a moment, but Piper silenced him.
"Honey, I know, I know", Piper replied, quieting him.
"You know?", Wyatt turned, startled, finally staring into his mother's eyes. His vision clouded as he blinked away the film of tears.
"I just know", Piper replied again, calmly. "I can't explain it, I just... I just feel it? Maybe every mother knows their child...", she trailed off. "And I know you wouldn't be here without a good reason", she continued. "Something happened didn't it? Something bad. And you're here to warn us".
"Oh Mom", Wyatt said, suddenly throwing his arms around Piper tightly. "If you don't help me then we all die".
"Only one way to find out...", Wyatt muttered to himself.
Outside the San Francisco sky was dark and clouded, with the hint of a full moon visible. A pale light barely illuminated the attic, which certainly looked different. The Book was still there, of course, but Wyatt couldn't place most of the junk and furniture he could see.
With a deep breath he opened the attic door and quietly descended to the second floor. The house was dark and still and Wyatt felt like an intruder in the manor he'd grown up in for seventeen years.
Slowly and deliberately he opened the door to his mother's bedroom. The same one she'd shared with his father. A choked sigh escaped his lips as he glimpsed his mother and father asleep on the bed in the passing moonlight. By the side of the bed a baby gurgled happily to itself in it's cot.
So strange to see yourself as a baby thought Wyatt, as he carefully snuck to the childs side. For a moment the feeling of dread that had followed him from the future left him, as the hand of his infant self wrapped itself around his own seventeen year old hand, causing young Wyatt to gurgle happily.
Wyatt smiled and stepped closer, caught up in the moment, oblivious to the creak of floorboards underneath. On the bed Piper's eyes fluttered sleepily open as she mumbled Wyatt's name, reacting to the sound.
Wyatt froze, panicked. What if his mother's first instinct at finding a stranger next to the crib was to blow him up? As a Witch the power would normally have no effect upon him, but while sharing the same temporal space as his younger self he was completely powerless. Fear caused his blood to pound through his temples, while also keeping him rooted to the spot.
"Mom...", Wyatt whispered hoarsely, without intending to.
"Wyatt?", Piper questioned, eyes flying open. "Leo!", she yelled, bolting upright in bed, hands flying up defensively, ready to employ her powers.
"Mom, Mom, Mom...", Wyatt began repeating, more to himself than anyone else. And then he was sobbing, as he stumbled to the bed and collapsed at its side, hands stretched out across the mattress to Piper, face buried in the covers as he began to cry. Barely he was aware of his father getting up, approaching him. Of his childhood self crying and being lifted from the crib behind him, craddled protectively. Of a rapid exchange of fragmented words. 'Demon'. 'Crazy'. 'Dangerous'. And finally his mother, hands in his hair and on his back, soft voice calming his father.
"It's OK Leo. Let him cry. Just let him cry", and then in his ears, through the sound of his own sobs, "It's OK. It's going to be OK".
***
Wyatt wasn't sure how long they stayed like that. He had cried himself out and then just lay there, curled on the bed and silent. Piper silently stroked his hair, having sent Leo downstairs with the baby Wyatt and her sisters.
It was so perfect that Wyatt was scared to move for fear he'd destroy it. Even before she'd died his mother had seemed sad much of the time. He couldn't ever remember her this beautiful and comforting, this fiercely loving.
"Do you want to tell me what this is about now?", Piper asked him quietly.
Wyatt didn't move, but had to hold back a fresh round of tears at the sound of her voice.
Unable to turn at look at her. Look into her eyes. Wyatt just simply said, "I'm your son Mom. I'm Wyatt".
The room was silent again, but Wyatt noticed that Piper's hand continued stroking his hair and her presence remained comfortingly close.
"I know it's hard to believe, and...", he continued after a moment, but Piper silenced him.
"Honey, I know, I know", Piper replied, quieting him.
"You know?", Wyatt turned, startled, finally staring into his mother's eyes. His vision clouded as he blinked away the film of tears.
"I just know", Piper replied again, calmly. "I can't explain it, I just... I just feel it? Maybe every mother knows their child...", she trailed off. "And I know you wouldn't be here without a good reason", she continued. "Something happened didn't it? Something bad. And you're here to warn us".
"Oh Mom", Wyatt said, suddenly throwing his arms around Piper tightly. "If you don't help me then we all die".