The Break's Over
Anakin sat on the floor, face hidden from the world, buried in his palms. Depressed and exhausted, he sighed deeply and squeezed his eyes shut. Life had never been easy for him. It hardly ever was for a Halliwell, but he had a particularly screwed up life. Or at least a part of him had. He always felt lost and alone even when he knew he should not.
Today was no exception, except that he should have been a bit joyous. For today, he had moved out of the manor and into an apartment that he would live in for his four years at Johns Hopkins University.
The apartment was small and, at the moment, an utter mess. Strewn with boxes and sets of miss matched furniture, it resembled more of a garbage dump than someone's home. But try as he might, Anakin could not muster the energy to start unpacking. The move had been more draining than he had expected: physically, but especially emotionally. The original two-week cross-country trip had turned into a half day of orbing his stuff hurriedly into the one-bed, one-bath apartment.
The youngest son of Piper and Leo lifted his head just enough to glance at the mess of boxes still taped shut. In those boxes that took up the floor space of his whole apartment were all of his worldly possessions. He felt only apprehension mixed with a horrible sense of loss. When his eyes threatened to well up, he hid them back behind his palms, his breathing shallow and sporadic, almost gasps, but not quite there yet.
Anakin could not understand why he felt like this. He had been dreaming about this moment since the beginning of his senior year. A life all on his own. No magic. No big brothers. No overprotective parents…just freedom. But now that he had it, he was not quite sure it was worth it. He felt no pride in his home, no happiness at his independence. All he felt was empty and weak.
The young male witch had grown up with a large family; a family he had gone back in time to save. Now, barely seven years later, he was rushing out of the Manor with little more than a peck on his mother's cheek and a brief handshake with his father. The rest of his family hadn't been there to say goodbye or wish him good luck.
Both of his brothers helped magically transport his belongings but then vanished. Neither of them was particularly that thrilled with their baby brother moving across the country. Part of Wyatt's and Chris's concern was rooted in their envy of Anakin escaping the Halliwell curse of being roped into working at Magic School. But a much greater part stemmed from the ever-present fear of a demonic attack. It had never boded well for Halliwells when they separated.
Prue had been busy, but she was coming to dinner later; rather, was bringing dinner. She was accepting of Anakin's decision to move out of the Manor; after all, she had done the same for a much dumber reason than to attend a prestigious school. But even that thought did not help the sinking feeling in Anakin's chest. Love them or hate them, he missed his family, and his brothers' actions cut deeper than they probably knew.
Then again, it was not like he was moving completely away from his family. He had purposely chosen Johns Hopkins because he would be near Prue. His sole sister had been offered a cooking job along the lines of the famous Rachael Ray days after graduating high school and Magic School. Another Halliwell became a mini-celebrity practically overnight. She moved to Maryland to be close to her current boyfriend—who dumped her weeks later—but her career kept her on the East Coast and she'd grown to love it. And she certainly had not remained single for long.
Anakin smiled at that thought. Prue was truly born to be with someone. She was loving, kind, generous, and not hesitant about speaking her mind. But above all, she was accepting. He adored his family each and every one of them, but it had always been Prue who had treated him with what he considered respect. Logically, Anakin knew that his entire family loved him and only wanted what was best for him; he was eternally thankful for that. But having his mother, father, and brothers hanging over his shoulder or protecting his back all the time got a little bit tiresome. Prue gave him some breathing room.
Deciding it would not do to look utterly depressed when Prue arrived, Anakin stood up with another exhausted sigh. He stared at the nearest set of boxes. Each was dull tan and had large, white, rectangular labels plastered on their sides. Scrawls handwriting in either one of his brothers' messy scribbles or the perfectionist-hand of his mother described in one or two words the contents inside of each box.
The boxes he was currently staring at was labeled "Linens." Where he had gotten four boxes worth of bedding and towels escaped him, but that was not an argument he was willing to start. His mother overdid things when she was flustered.
He moved away from the small alcove housing the window that overlooked the quiet Baltimore street. In the distance set against the brilliant orange-red sunset was the domed top of the hospital. The view was picturesque and had Anakin been in a better mood, he would have enjoyed it a lot more. At the moment, he was preoccupied and heavy-hearted.
Another depressed sigh escaped his lips as he turned to browse the boxes settled in the center of the tiny living room. Most of them were clothes that he had no interest in unpacking until Prue arrived to set a fire beneath his lazy ass. He was simply looking and reading the labels to take his mind off the feelings of being alone.
The blond focused his efforts in finding a single box that as of four hours ago had not been on the East Coast.
Piper had insisted that she at least be allowed to set up his bedroom. Anakin promptly refused; this was something he was going to do by himself to prove to his family he could manage. But after a long debate in which he never gained the upper-hand, Piper won. The half-witch-half-whitelighter begrudgingly orbed the Halliwell matriarch to the apartment and gave her a quick grand tour and even more hurriedly explained his vague idea on how he would be decorating the place.
Once his mother had convinced herself, however briefly, that her baby was going to be fine, she moved on to the bedroom. She meticulously unpacked each box, one at a time, and laid everything out in neat orderly rows. Then she set out putting everything in their "correct" places. The two tables, one ancient chest-of-drawers and his queen-sized bed were squeezed into the small bedroom. The few small decorative items had not arrived yet but that did not concern Piper; she was quite happy to allow Anakin to have some hand in adorning his bedroom.
But what had irked the eldest Charmed One was the missing box of bedding: the one containing Anakin's actual bedding. She spent a half-hour looking for the box before Anakin was finally able to get her to let it slide. He was pretty sure that Wyatt and Chris had hidden the box in some dark alley somewhere to make sure he had to come home at least once. But he could not deal with having his mother around any longer; he needed some time to adjust and that would not happen with Piper sitting in the crowded living room.
"Never trust two three-year-olds to help with moving," Anakin mumbled under his breath as he shoved boxes aside in order to grab the others.
His annoyance aside, Anakin had to admit it was an impressive display of power. The boxes were set up in a perfect fort-like fashion, annoying when it came to finding a box, but a notable achievement. Neither of his brothers had set foot in the apartment, so the whole tower had been built purely on a vague description.
He reached the bottom corner box, the last unchecked box in the small living room. His fingers brushed the cardboard of the exterior, and it burst into millions of tiny blue orbs which swirled around in a tornado-like fashion before disappearing. Another box from somewhere to Anakin's left vanished as well, only to reappear in place of the box he had touched. The boxes had switched places in a final display of his brothers' disapproval for his leaving. But the display was not over. As if the boxes were a set of dominoes, the entire fort turned bright blue and reorganized itself.
Anakin growled, wanting to do nothing more than sit down and cry in frustration. Running his hand through his hair he looked to the ceiling, muttering, "I'm going to kill you guys."
"Kill who?"
Anakin spun around, eyes wide in surprise. He stared at his older sister peeking through his front door. She was breathing hard, probably due to the armload of groceries she carried, yet she still managed to gracefully close the door.
"Murder's hardly ever the answer, li'l bro."
Anakin recovered and managed a short smile. "I think the divine powers will let this one slip by."
The blond hurried forward and silently offered to take the groceries. Prue dropped the bags into Anakin's arms and looked around the apartment with a knowing smirk plastered on her face.
"As much as I know our brothers deserve to be killed, I think Mom would mind if her Thanksgiving table lacked two of her offspring." She said, her eyes falling on Anakin.
He huffed in defeat. "Low blow, sis."
Giving the innocent-looking box one last glare, he moved to the kitchen.
"They always had good imaginations."
The up-and-coming chef smiled as she took in her sibling's masterpiece with amused eyes.
"Yeah, they do." Anakin allowed himself a small smile.
He dropped the grocery bags on the kitchen counter. "Now if only they would use it for good instead of annoying their baby brother."
"Oh relax, Annie, they're just showing that they love you," Prue whispered as she gently maneuvered the depressed witch out of the kitchen.
Groaning, Anakin took the hint and followed along. He ran his hand through his hair as the feeling of despair washed over him. Shoving that emotion aside, he slumped into a seat at his small dining room table.
"Maybe they could love me a little bit less, then."
Prue grinned to herself and shook her head. She verbally ignored Anakin's comment and instead turned her attention to the kitchen. Apprehension flooded her mind as she took in the tiny hole-in-the-wall that barely passed as a kitchen.
The room was a tiny six by six box. One side had the fridge and dishwasher along with the sink and two small cupboards; the other, the only usable counter space. Everything appeared to be from the seventies era or earlier. Nothing had been well looked after.
Waving aside her disbelief at the state of the kitchen, Prue went about unpacking the groceries. Three of the bags went directly into the refrigerator, unpacked. She felt the more layers between the food and the fridge, the better. The yellowing door swung shut on its own with a squeak as the female witch began to unpack the remaining paper bag.
"You have powers of your own, you know," she began.
"Personal gain," Anakin chimed, face still buried in his hands.
"And you wonder why we call you a momma's boy."
Anakin either did not hear her or did not bother responding. She glanced at her brother, worried. He had always been much more upbeat, but now he was the picture of depression. She bit her lip; no good pushing the matter.
"Potato salad or macaroni salad?"
"Potato." he answered blandly.
He leaned back in the chair and tried to wipe away the stress at least from his face. Slumping into a slouch Anakin wondered to himself why he was being so standoffish to his sister. They'd always had a good relationship; he had always told her everything, never been hesitant or worried that she might think less of him. But now, he was picking his words and avoiding topics.
No time like the present to change that, he thought.
"I can't believe school starts in two days. I was supposed to have settled in a week ago."
Prue nodded as she carried over a paper plate loaded with rolls, potato salad, and half a rotisserie chicken. "Well, that's what happens in this family." She placed the plate in front of her brooding brother. She started up again as she fetched her own dinner. "When I moved here I had barely four hours to settle before I started my job."
Anakin let out a loaded sigh. "Yeah, but at least you had Payton by your side and what's-his-face."
"It's Kyle, by the way. And thanks," said Prue, feigning hurt. "I guess I don't count."
Anakin looked over at his sister, and a smile tugging at his lips. "That's not what I meant and you know it."
The two siblings fell silent. Prue ate slowly, glancing worriedly at him with her Piper-esque brown eyes. Nothing about her physical appearance had changed much since she was twelve, besides the obvious. She still had her long wavy brown hair with subtle highlights. She wore little makeup due to her flawless skin; the entire family had escaped the curse of puberty-induced acne. Her round face was as quick as ever to show her current emotional state. The major change was on her left ring finger: a simple yet elegant gold engagement ring topped with a glittering diamond.
Anakin ignored his sister's concerned stares and focused on pushing the potato salad from one side of his plate to the other. He was too preoccupied to feel hungry. Even the very smell of the chicken made him mildly nauseous, but he was too thankful to Prue not to at least attempt to eat—eventually. He had a lot on his mind: the move, school, a new job, and his family. But if he was truly honest with himself the biggest fear weighing on him was Lucien.
It had been two years since he'd last spoken to Lucien, yet the wound in his heart refused to fully heal. Since then, he had attempted to date others that rarely made it to the boyfriend stage. Some of them had been decent guys, and they had fun together. But they were just vain attempts to fill the void left by Lucien's departure, and eventually they grew distant and vanished into the flow of the world.
Lucien and Anakin had been ten when they'd met. By eleven, they had been going out for a year. Then all hell broke loose and they lost each other in the fight to save the world. Anakin had turned eleven in the changed timeline before they reconnected. Everything had gone fine for a while, but some things could never truly be overcome. So when he was sixteen and Lucien seventeen, the older had stormed out the Manor for the last time. It had been a story too good to be true. He knew that, but it still stung when Lucien left.
Anakin had never been a sappy, show-your-feelings sort of person. He had built a shield to protect himself from emotional hurt, partially thanks to he horrors he saw his previous self experience. He never had thousands of friends like Wyatt or Prue; even workaholic Chris had more friends. Most of his family knew very little about what went through his mind. Wyatt, Prue, Chris, and Piper were his confidantes; they knew almost everything about him, especially Prue. But it had been Lucien he had opened himself completely to, and it hurt a lot more than he'd expected when Lucien slammed that door.
He shook his head; it was not healthy to dwell on the past. "How's the job?" he asked instead, breaking the silence.
Prue gave him a noncommittal shrug. "Same old, same old. They're having me run through recipes and make cheap versions of them for college students. Not exactly my dream job, but at least it's a job."
"And Payton?" Anakin put down his fork. He couldn't stomach any more tonight.
"She's out on a date with Thomas-something or other." Prue said simply. "She's just like her mother."
Anakin smiled half-heartedly. "Well, remind her that she's barely twenty-one. She still has time."
"That's what I tell her but she's set on being married before she's twenty-five, and she wants to be engaged for at least a year, and she wants to be dating for a year before that. So in her mind, she's got a year, tops."
"And Kyle?" He wasn't really interested, but it was nice not to have Prue staring suspiciously at him.
Prue smiled. "Kyle's just fine. He's in New York for the week helping his dad with some business takeover. He told me to tell you he wished he could have been here to help move you in."
Anakin nodded, staring at the wall behind Prue. "Tell him thanks."
He really had nothing against the man and he made Prue happy. But the protective streak in his family was alive and well in him. He did not want to see Prue hurt and so was critical of her boyfriend on principle. Prue and Kyle had been dating for a year before they moved to Baltimore. Six months later, Prue came home for the Wiccaning of Wyatt's son and sprang the news of their engagement on the family. Piper had nearly fainted, and Leo went purple in the face. The reactions of fear and hostility quickly turned into ones of excitement and anticipation when it became clear they could not change her mind. Anakin was the only one who openly questioned Prue's decision at times and was certainly the sole Halliwell to tell her anything negative about Kyle. But that was the nature of their relationship; they told each other the truth, even when it hurt.
Anakin peered around the room. "Really wish all of this was already done."
Prue followed his eyes. "A little orbing and it'll be done in a half an hour."
"Personal gain," he sang.
"Screw the rules. It's the Elders' fault you only have a day to get settled in anyway. They owe you."
Anakin nodded distractedly.
"Come on," Prue pushed. "I'll help."
Anakin closed his eyes slowly and kept them shut, readying himself. "Fine, thanks."
She nodded, biting her lip. It wasn't good for anyone to be this depressed and that was true even more so for Anakin. "Alright, I'll start in the kitchen and you do the living room."
Prue took charge and began waving her hands as if conducting an invisible orchestra. Anakin joined in, emptying boxes and depositing the items aside with flicks of his fingers. Wyatt and Chris were excellent orbers but they stood no chance against the pair of them. In fifteen minutes, the entire apartment was completely set up, a mini version of Anakin's small "wing" in the Manor plus kitchen.
"Thanks." He expressed, a little more upbeat.
"You're very welcome." She smiled and sat in the loveseat across from the flat screen TV.
Anakin settled for the rolling computer chair, his favorite seat. It had been a sixteenth birthday present from Lucien. Pushing that thought aside he rushed back into conversation. "Think Wyatt and Chris will keep avoiding me?"
Prue shook her head. "Nah, they're too soft to do that, sweetie. They had a similar reaction when I left last year, but they got over it pretty quickly."
"And Mom?" he wondered aloud. "I wasn't very patient with her today."
"She's an adult, Annie," assured Prue. "She understands that you're under a lot of pressure."
"And Dad nearly broke down when I left."
"Dad's always been a softy." He could tell she was straining to keep her tone happy. "He's just sad that his baby is leaving the nest. Don't think too much about their reaction; they all know this is what you want. And to them, all that matters is that you're happy."
He nodded, falling quiet.
After a few minutes of silence, he blurted, "I wrote to him once." "Who?" Prue frowned. Slowly, realization dawned in her features. "Oh. Lucien."
"Yeah," Anakin looked down, finding his shoes suddenly very interesting. "Just asked him how he was and stuff...."
"And?" Prue prompted.
He shrugged, blinking away his blurred vision. "He never wrote back."
"He's a dick, Anakin; it's his loss." She stood up, watching him struggle to keep it together. She walked around the coffee table and knelt beside him, pulling him into a comforting hug. Anakin squeezed his eyes shut and held onto her for a moment longer than was necessary.
"I can still sense him every now and again." He swallowed. He looked into Prue's eyes, sad. "He's worried, Prue. He's worried a lot."
Prue nibbled her lip, not entirely sure how to approach the issue. She had seen how close Anakin grew to Lucien, and the curly-haired elemental had definitely loved her brother. But six months before they broke up, something had changed in Lucien. He became distant and cold toward not just Anakin, but everyone. His brown eyes never shone with the happiness they all associated with him.
Anakin had fought hard to keep him, to be there for the young man. But he'd pushed against that, alienating him. Then one day, they'd got into a massive fight. They had fought before, but this was nothing compared to their previous arguments. Anakin had never told anyone what the fight was about, but they all knew that it was the type of fight a relationship could not withstand. The next day, Lucien came by to pick up various items he had left at the Manor over the years. He hadn't come back since then.
And Anakin had slipped into a dark depression that led to him to try to commit suicide. It was by sheer luck that Wyatt orbed in when he did. He had taken a powerful potion, and his heart had stopped for ten minutes before Wyatt was finally able to heal him. Piper and Leo had sent Anakin to a psychologist afterwards, but it did not help. He'd healed on his own time in his own way. Slowly, they'd got back the young man that they knew and loved. But he never fully recovered, and was prone to bouts of depression, although he never tried to kill himself again. His sister had made him promise to never try it again under threat of, ironically, death.
"Annie," Prue spoke slowly, choosing her words carefully. "I know this is going to be hard to hear, but I am going to say it anyway. He's not your problem anymore. He didn't want your help and probably still doesn't. Why is beyond me, but that is the truth."
Anakin nodded, but returned to his stares into space. "And you see I get that. I know that he chose to face this alone, but I can't stop caring, Prue. I know what he's going through. I can help."
He sighed as she patted him on the head softly. "Perhaps we should have gone out and gotten drunk."
Anakin laughed once. "Don't think alcohol is going to solve my problems."
"Who said you were getting drunk?" Prue she teased with an arched eyebrow.
He grinned, standing to give her a hug. "Thanks. I think I'm going to go to bed."
Prue stood, moving toward the door . "Alright. I'll see you around tomorrow."
He rose with her glanced toward his bedroom, suddenly feeling drained. Perhaps the day had been longer than he'd thought.
"And Anakin…"
He spun around questioningly. "Yeah?"
"Don't ever hesitate in calling me, OK?" She gave him a stern, no-nonsense look that showed she meant business. He gave her a tiny smile.
"The thought hadn't cross my mind."
"Ok, then. I'll see you."
"Night, Prue." He waited as she collected her keys and opened the front door.
"Bye."
"Bye." When the door was shut, he twitched his finger, locking the bolt. With a weary sigh, he padded the short distance across his apartment to his bedroom.
The bedroom was nothing special. A queen-sized bed sat against the middle of one wall. On the other was the large closet where he kept his clothes and potion ingredients along with his copy of the Book of Shadows. There was a door that led to the bathroom, complete with toilet, vanity, and shower. A large wooden cabinet stood next to the bedroom door, holding all of his folded clothing. On top of it was another TV and DVD player. Next to that was a picture frame with a photo of his mom, dad, brothers, and sister all seated on a park bench taken only a few weeks ago.
That had been a happy day. They had gone to the park to celebrate his nephew's, Wyatt's son, first birthday. Wyatt's fiancée had taken their picture while he had been playing with Zach on the slide. The blond-haired, blue-eyed tyke had refused to leave the slide. Being the fun uncle, he'd offered to look after him while everyone else posed for a picture. The picture turned out perfect and, using a bit of magic, his mother added him, Sarah, and Zach into the photograph after development. However, he had removed the spell on his copy. He did not see the point of having himself in the picture and he was not as skilled as his mother to put Sarah and Zach back in.
And now, once again, he was out the picture. Sure, it was what he'd wanted, but it was not exactly how he wanted it. He wanted a life outside of magic and his family, but wanted someone to share it with. Smiling sadly, he turned away and left to brush his teeth.
In the cramped bathroom, he studied himself in the mirror as he brushed. The stranger staring back at him was not the man he ever imagined himself being. This man was sad, weary, lost. He always saw himself as happy, determined, and with a set path out in front of him. But the reflection man was too much like the other Anakin than either of them wanted to be.
"Seems to be our destiny to be alone, hey, Annie?"
No answer came. He had not expected one. The other Anakin had long since stopped intruding into his conscious, but in his dreams, he witnessed the horrors of the previous timeline. He saw Wyatt and Chris burst into ash. He saw his mother being fatally hit by a fireball as she ran to save him. He watched helplessly as Prue was vanquished by the assassin demon. There was the anguish he felt at hearing Paige's demise, the anger at the world when Victor was diagnosed with lung cancer; the horror when Lucien said he would turn evil.
Life had not been easy in the alternate time, but this life was just full of new problems. It seems there was no such thing as happily ever after.