"Cemeteries at Dawn, Cemeteries at Dusk"
--Dec. 22, 2018--
"Paige! Paige!"
He, Mom and Aunt Phoebe ran through the graveyard, calling for her. Somehow, they were really calling for all three of them, but the hope and fear in their voices was only for Aunt Paige and Lindie. Thoughts of Wyatt brought only dread. None of them wanted to accept what might have happened. Chris's gaze drifted over the rows of graves, nearly invisible in the darkness, and suddenly he remembered: how Aunt Paige never joined in their games of fort when she would baby sit, or hearing the story of the Lazarus demon at Aunt Phoebe's first wedding, or Aunt Paige telling them about her mortal adopted parents. And if he had heard it once, Chris had heard the tale a thousand times: his mother almost sobbing at his father on a day seventeen years before:
"You tell them that we buried their precious Charmed Ones when we buried our sister."
Symbolism had always fascinated Wyatt. He talked about symbols as signals of power, from the signs at his birth to the prophesies surrounding the rise of the Order three years ago. If the rumors of his brother's turning were true, then Wyatt was looking for a way to prove himself.
The realization settled like ash in Chris's mouth. The Order would break the Power of Three, permanently, and Wyatt would let history repeat itself in symbol and in deed. He had to find Lindie and warn her. Piper and Phoebe did not hear him fall behind in their frantic search. Once they were out of earshot, he orbed to where he sensed Lindie to be, on the outskirts of the cemetery. She was leaning against a tree trunk and scowling. He didn't waste time.
"Lindie, I need you to show me where the Mathews are buried." She didn't look at him, and her frown deepened. He sighed. "I think I know what happened to your mom. Please?"
Finally, she looked up, and her eyes were puffy from crying. "They've got her shielded or something, Chris. I-I can't sense her." He held out his arms almost reflexively, and she clung to him after a moment's hesitation. Although he wasn't at all a typical fourteen-year-old boy, displays like this did usually annoy him. But now that was the last thing on Chris's mind.
They stood together for several minutes until her sniffling subsided. Lindie muttered against his chest, "West of the old mausoleum, next to a bunch of trees. Sycamores, I think Mom said. Lot number 3824."
"Okay." He pulled away. "I'm gonna check it out. You stay here."
"But--!" She started to protest, but he was already dissolving into blue orbs. She stamped her foot in frustration, not caring that it made her look like a little girl.
The sight that greeted Chris when he rematerialized would stay etched in his memory for years. A few yards away amid the almost thirty-year-old graves, there was one freshly dug pit, encircled by demonic goons clad in the Order's garb. They held shovels and pitchforks. Biting back the sick feeling in his gut, Chris snuck up behind one of them as quietly as he could. He had already guessed what he would see, but the sight still shocked him. Paige Mathews lay facedown at the bottom of the grave. Chris could barely make out the rope tying her hands behind her back.
While he stood there, trying to think of what to do, the demons raised their shovels. Calling out the oath of the Order, they plunged the shovels into mounds of dirt surrounding the grave. The dirt fell into the pit, and they raised their tools again, and then again. Finally, one of the younger goons turned as he lifted his pitchfork and spotted Chris.
"The witchlighter son!" All heads snapped around in his direction, and several nearby demons made to grab him, but Chris was faster. Unsure whether he had arrived on the scene too late, he orbed into the grave and crouched beside the prone figure of his aunt. He saw that she was gagged as well as bound, and her eyes were already somewhat glassy.
From what little first aid his dad had bothered to teach him, Chris knew how to check a pulse. When he placed two fingers against her neck, however, there was no reassuring buh-bump. Chris grabbed her by the shoulders in increasing desperation. "Aunt Paige?"
The demons, fooled for a moment by his sudden disappearing act, leaned over the edge of the open grave when they heard his voice. "Move, boy," one hissed, "Or you'll be buried with your dear auntie." Chris looked up, and tried to glare at every ugly face at once.
"Yeah, sure, I'll move." Chris jerked back his arm, sending three of the leering demons tumbling backwards onto the mounds of dirt. A second later, he orbed back onto the cemetery grass. He was barely out of their reach. In that second, he decided there was little he could do for his aunt with the demonic gang around except get back to his mom and Aunt Phoebe. They needed to be warned too. He orbed out before the goons could grab him.
Chris found his mom and aunt by the old mausoleum. "Chris," Piper cried when she saw him. They rushed over to him, but he waved off their questions and rebukes about going off on his own.
"Listen," he insisted in a tight voice. "I found Aunt Paige." Their faces lit up at this news, and Chris closed his eyes for a moment. He hated disappointing his mom. However, the image of Paige's limp body scared him more, and somehow that gave him the courage to tell them. "I found where the demons have her, and she…I'm not sure she was still alive."
"Oh, God…" Piper's frantic desperation bubbled over. She grabbed Chris's hand, and he automatically grabbed Phoebe's. They orbed to the Mathews' gravesite an instant later.
The Order's demon henchmen were gone, but so was Paige. By the time they had dug her out of the grave, she was cold to the touch, and her eyes stared blankly into the faint daylight. His mom and Aunt Phoebe both broke down sobbing. Chris was too stunned to join them, though. He just stared and stared at Paige's body, before abruptly walking away. Wyatt. Where the hell was he?
His sensing power had never been as strong or as fine-tuned as his older brother's had, but Chris had learned to compensate with the logic his mom had always encouraged, and the stories of the family history Aunt Phoebe had told to both her nephews since they were little.
"Have I ever told you," she would say, cuddling the two close to her on the living room couch, "the story of how the Charmed Ones first got their powers?" Wyatt and Chris would shake their heads empathetically, even though they both knew the story by heart. "Well," Aunt Phoebe would continue, dropping her voice, "It started on a dark and stormy night…."
Deep in thought, Chris did not pay attention to where he was walking until he was deep within the grove of sycamores on the edge of the cemetery. Aunt Paige had probably been terrified as she was ambushed and forced into the grave. A band of light from the rising sun glinted through the trees, startling Chris so much that he orbed on the spot.
He heard deep laughter as he re-materialized, the beginnings of an answer for what he had witnessed already crystallized in his mind. Whirling around, he saw a black cloaked figure step into the clearing. Although he'd never personally encountered him before, Chris recognized Barbas immediately.
"If it isn't the younger Halliwell son! I have been waiting several years for this particular opportunity." He stepped closer, sniffing the air. Chris tried to turn and run, but Barbas waved his hand in front of him. "Your greatest fear is that your brother is turning to evil and that it's too late to stop him." The demon smiled and reached for Chris's arm. "It's almost too easy." They shimmered out of the sycamore grove before Chris could pull away.
They rematerialized in front of Wyatt, on the east side of the cemetery. The sun had almost risen completely, and Chris had to squint against the glare. The satisfied smirk on his brother's face was clear enough, though.
"I guess that means they found her. I wondered how long it would take."
Chris finally broke free of Barbas'grip. He balled his hands into fists, and started to stalk towards his brother, but Wyatt merely put up his force field. From behind the thick blue shield, he grinned. "It's happening, Chris. I'm taking my rightful place. And there is nothing you can do about it." He nodded toward the demon. "Barbas has been really helpful. The Order barely has to do anything, and we don't even need that much magic."
Chris scoffed. "You call burying someone alive 'barely doing anything'?" Barbas made a grab at him, and he ducked, landing one wild jab on the rebound. No way would he orb again and give either of them the satisfaction of his fear on display. With Barbas winded, Chris addressed Wyatt fully, trying as hard as he could to keep his voice from breaking. "Aunt Paige, Wyatt. Our role model. The woman you're named for. The woman who made it possible for us to be born." He shook his head, trying to keep the image of her prone, limb body from his mind's eye. "And you let demons throw her in a ditch."
His brother shrugged. "How much of a model could she ever be to me, Chris? I'm the heir to Excalibur. She was just a bastard spare, raised by mortals. I've found all the role models I'll ever need in the Order."
Chris bit back the retort on the tip of his tongue. Wyatt was talking like every demon they or their family had ever dealt with, and the one inescapable lesson he'd learned had been never to reason with evil. But thinking of his older brother as a demon triggered enough fear in him to pull Barbas back to full strength. Defeat him with the greatest of all powers, Chris remembered. His own beloved role models needed him. With a defiant glance at Wyatt, he deliberately orbed back to his mom and Aunt Phoebe.
They wept more quietly now, and Chris noticed they'd closed Paige's unblinking eyes. He stepped forward slowly so that they wouldn't startle when they saw him. "It's me," he called, just in case. "I found Wyatt." They didn't respond immediately; his mom was saying something, and then choking back a sob. Only then did she rise and look toward him, her face wet with tears. The rest of his news died in his mouth.
"Where is he?" Aunt Phoebe asked. She seemed eerily calm, but Chris glanced between her and his mom and saw that she was almost ready to snap under the reflected power of Piper's anxiety, which had been building to unbelievable levels in the two weeks Wyatt had been missing. No wonder his older aunt looked as serious as Chris had ever seen her. "Where is your brother, Chris? And where," she swallowed, "where is Lindie?"
He couldn't meet their eyes. "Lindie's on the north side, near the chapel. I told her to stay away -- her visions…" Piper reached for him, but he shrugged her away and pointed toward the sycamores. "Wyatt's in that grove of trees. With Barbas." This news was met with stunned looks; not exactly the reaction Chris thought he'd receive. Didn't they understand what this meant? "Alongside Barbas."
Piper's face paled, and she rounded on Phoebe. "We've got to get in there, and get him back. Come on!" She ran toward the trees, but neither Phoebe nor Chris rushed to follow her.