I know it hurts too much. I know you're scared.
I know you're running out of trust, wishing you were dead.
In your misery, you're not alone.
So come share your tears with me and witness it all go wrong.

He had changed so much in the past nine months. It was as if he were an entirely different person- and to his younger brother, that was practically the case. The past nine months had almost literally been Hell on earth, but that was nothing compared to what Chris was going through. And he would give anything- magical or otherwise- to change what had happened, what had caused everything to come crashing down around him.

But now, as he stood in the Manor that once was his haven, facing his older brother- the one that once protected him when things went wrong, the one that said he'd always be there- the reality that nothing could ever fix what had happened set in. Wyatt just stood there, a smirk on his face, a smirk that could ruin lives. And did.

"Little brother, how courageous you are. Bringing our cousins into a house you know you will never leave."

Everett and Paris stood behind him, frozen by fear- or something else, Chris couldn't tell. He had needed them to help him. It had come time to take Wyatt down. But that plan was quickly disintegrating.

Wyatt crossed the room and spun on his heels. "Oh, but where is little Prue?" he asked, his smile defying the wrath behind the blue eyes. He laughed. "I'm not surprised you didn't bring our sister here, of course. You're not that stupid, are you, Christopher?"

Chris shuddered, a cold chill wrapping itself around his spin and traveling upwards. He had always thought the attic was the coldest room in the house, and now, facing his brother, the coldness burned him worse than any fire in Hell could.

"No witty comeback, little brother?" Wyatt asked. The question was rhetorical. "After nine months, you have nothing to say to me?"

"Wyatt-"

The attack came quick. Wyatt thrust his arms forward. Chris threw his arms up, trying to protect himself with a telekinetic shield. Everett and Paris thrust their palms outward, tapping into Wyatt's own power by way of telepathy and empathy, respectively. But they weren't strong enough- the three of them went flying backwards and crashed into the wall.

Wyatt snapped his fingers and several demons shimmered into the attic. "Play time," the witch ordered.

Paris was the first one to her feet. She pushed off the ground with one foot, and with a boost from her levitation, slammed her foot into the chest of one of the demons. The demon stumbled backwards but recovered quickly. He drew his arm over his chest and backhanded Paris across the face, sending her back to the attic floor.

Everett ducked as a demon swung at him. He spun around with his left leg stretched outward and knocked the demon's legs out from under him. He summoned a thermal ball in his palm and hit the demon in the abdomen, vanquishing him. Two more demons came after him- one kicked him in the stomach and the other threw an energy ball at him. The energy ball grazed his arm and sent him to the floor.

Chris stayed with his back against the wall as the demons closed in. He slashed the air wildly with his arms, sending telekinetic blasts into their bodies. They went flying backwards but recovered quickly. He orbed out of the spot he was standing in and reappeared behind a demon, taking a hold of his head and breaking his neck. He spun around and kicked a demon in the stomach and then, retracting his leg, punched another in the face.

"Chris!"

Chris frantically looked for Paris when he heard her call for him. When his eyes found her, her eyes led her to Wyatt, who had Everett stuck in his strangulation.

The witch-whitelighter slashed at the air with his arm, but his older brother just held up a hand and deflected the attack into one of the by standing demons. He tried again- one, two, three, four, five times. Half of the summoned demons were lying on the floor by the time Chris slumped to his knees, his strength zapped.

Chris met his brother's eyes. As Wyatt spoke, they never broke the contact once. "You have a choice, brother. You have always had a choice. You either join me or-" Wyatt strengthened the power behind the strangulation. "-watch our precious cousin lose his breath."

Paris took a step toward her cousin. "Wyatt, stop this-"

Wyatt swiped the air towards Paris and she went flying backwards again. She slumped to the floor, unconscious. "There are no more Elders, no more whitelighters. If you allow our family to continue to be hurt, there is no healing them. Make your choice, Christopher."

Don't do it, Chris, Everett's voice came through telepathically.

I don't have any other choice, Chris responded.

Christopher Perry Halliwell climbed to his feet and approached his brother. Demons stepped forward in defense, but Wyatt destroyed them with a wave of his hand. The Twice Blessed Witch smiled and relinquished his grip on his cousin- Everett fell to the floor. Wyatt waved a hand and Everett and Paris were orbed out of the Manor instantly.

"It's good to love you again, little brother."

41 + 66.6 equals our loss.
We're breathing only to fade away. We're running just to get caught.
What love's lies blessed, what love's light cursed.
Just fear for the best and hope for our worst.