A BROKEN CROWN BY CHILD OF TWILIGHT

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

Summary: How far will Wyatt go to get his brother back? And can Chris resist the temptation? Can he turn his back on being ruler of the Underworld alongside Wyatt and turn his brother back to good? Or will the temptation of evil make him fail?

Author's Note:

Warning: This is slash people. That means male on male action. If you do not like that leave NOW. No flames accepted by homophobes after this point.

This story deals with incest, and rape. If you do not like that leave NOW. No flames accepted on the subject after this point.

Ok, then. If you're still here after that. You have been warned. Read at your own peril.

CHAPTER ONE: FALLEN

The world had changed. Wyatt Halliwell had become the Source, the ruler of all and the world had changed. Everyone bowed to him now. But if Wyatt was their Liege, then Christopher Halliwell was their Prince, Prince Consort maybe but he still held power over them, no matter how little use it was to him personally.

It all started with a book, a legend, a myth… a promise of power. Where blood met blood, pure power sprung between them. Where kin joined with kin, the power to rule an empire was bestowed. At least that was how the Ancient Egyptians saw it. And a few thousand years later, so did Wyatt.

And so Chris had become what Wyatt had demanded of him, what Wyatt had forced upon him; his brother's lover, a ruler of the Underworld and everything else Wyatt had dominion over.

In the beginning, he'd fought him tooth and nail. Had resisted with every ounce of power he had. At least until Wyatt had stripped him of them, and then begun a campaign of persuasion which had leeched Chris's will from him. As the months past, Chris was torn, feelings that should never have been being dredged up wilfully by his elder brother. Through Wyatt's administrations, brotherly love became something more, a longing developed to war with Chris's sense of wrongness about the situation, his revulsion, his own desire to stay with good magic.

In the end though, Wyatt had won. As he always did.

And Chris had stood by his new lover, stood by and accepted the mantle of the Source's Consort. Second only to Wyatt. His own blood initiation had been the spilled blood of Leo Wyatt, Elder. The ground had been awash with it.

Though he hated what Wyatt did to him, what he had done, what he made him feel, what he made him do, a part of him wanted the love his brother bestowed on him. After all, all his life Chris had been the unwanted, unplanned child. Ignored by his father, resented by his mother, considered insignificant by his aunts whose lives had strayed from their sister's. Chris had always been starved for affection, and when Wyatt offered it so openly, a part of him that he hadn't known existed had revolted against him and welcomed it, craved it even as the rest of him despised it.

He was forced to kill those he wished to save. Forced to endure the touch of one who never should have dreamed of it. Forced to be held under evil's sway. Forced to live in a conflicted hell.

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Flashback.

Grasping his seventeen year old brother's elbow, Wyatt led Chris into the room. "Today," he began without delay, addressing the two dozen or so top upper-level demons gathered there, "We witness the dawning of a new power. Alone, I rule no longer. Christopher joins with me today, and our power shall make the world tremble. None shall stand before us."

Taking Chris's hand, Wyatt noted the unnatural paleness of his brother, the suspiciously bright green eyes. Even now, he still resisted but Wyatt could wait no longer. Once the bond was formed, the potions to ensure compliance would no longer be necessary.

Picking up the elaborately crafted athame, he sliced across the flesh of Chris's palm, and then did the same to his own. Clasping their hands together, he let the blood mingle and drip into the flaming potion before them. "In this night and at this hour, hereby we join our powers, blood set free for power's reign, bound together 'til life's end, this burning sign do we send, of power, blood, and mind possessed. Brother to brother, blood to blood, forever bound I do decree."

And blood mixed with blood, and Wyatt's powers grew.

And as the compelling potion wore off, Chris found himself irrevocably bound to his brother, mind to mind, soul to soul. He could no longer defy Wyatt. Wyatt had made sure that Chris belonged to him in every way imaginable. He was trapped.

The only good thing to come out of that event in Chris's opinion was the new powers he gained. Flame-throwing, the ability to flame in and out and a few other demony powers. He'd marvelled over the stories of when his aunt Phoebe was Queen of the Underworld. Now, he felt like he was reliving it. Except worse.

At least his aunt had been able to vanquish her Source.

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"My Prince," a demon said, kneeling before him, "Our Liege commands your presence."

From his armchair, Chris made a dismissive gesture, "Tell him I will be there in a minute," he said as he closed his book. Dressed in black and dark green, clothes crafted from rich fabrics, and power wafting from him like smoke from a candle, Chris would have been a very intimidating sight if not for the sheer presence and power of Wyatt.

Sensing for Wyatt's presence, and locating him in the anteroom beside their bedchamber, he flamed in, knowing Wyatt's dislike for orbing in front of demons. "You summoned me brother?" he said wryly, surveying Wyatt's somewhat ruffled appearance and figuring that he was running late for something or other.

Wyatt yanked him to him with telekinesis and pulled him flush against him, devouring his mouth even as Chris gasped in shock at the sudden move. "I want you," he growled in frustration as one hand reached up to play with Chris's longish dark hair, "I will come to you tonight. Be ready beloved."

Chris pulled back slightly, "Don't you have a meeting of some sort?" he asked, absently leaning into the petting.

Wyatt kissed him again, "I haven't been with you for two weeks. Even the Source gets frustrated."

"It's not as if you don't have enough people willing to… relieve you." Chris said with distaste, levelling somewhat piqued green eyes at his brother's blue.

"None of them are you," Wyatt said seriously, pleasurably kneading the skin at the back of Chris's neck, "I hold love for no one but you. Know that." He grabbed Chris's chin, forcing him to meet his eyes, "You do know that I will never let you go? That I will never leave you?"

Chris nodded, unwilling to trust his voice to speak. "Good," Wyatt purred, "Think of me 'til I return beloved and know that I will most assuredly be thinking of you…"

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A gentle hand brushing the hair out of his face woke him, his head was cushioned on a broad chest, rising and falling with its breaths. For a moment, he was disorientated, but awareness came quickly when a low chuckle rumbled through the chest beneath him. "I know you're awake sleepyhead," Wyatt Halliwell said amusedly.

Even as Chris opened his eyes, strong arms were moving him as Wyatt shifted them around so he was lying atop of the more slender of the two. A breathy laugh and a wisp of long curly blonde hair ghosted past his ear, "I think we both need a little time away from work Chris," he said, a slight grin lifting the corners of his mouth, punctuating his words with a firm kiss. "You fell asleep waiting for me beloved. I was most disappointed. One would think you were working too hard considering how dead to the world you were."

Chris tried unsuccessfully to blink the sleep out of his eyes, "Some of us have powers which disturb one's rest." he muttered, trying to swat the other man away so he could go back to sleep.

Wyatt smirked as he dodged Chris's swatting, "Did you neglect to take your blocking potion?" he asked with concern.

Chris winced with remembered pain, "No, one of your demon's decided to play with an innocent. The screams were such a soothing lullaby to sleep to." he said sarcastically, leaving the worst of his troubles unsaid.

Instantly Wyatt's features tightened with fury, and he rolled off Chris, pulling the slim form back to rest against his chest as he leaned against the headboard, "It won't happen again," he snarled, and then softened his tone when Chris jumped at his sudden mood change, "Don't worry brother, it won't happen again. How bad was it?" he asked, delving Chris with his power to see if there were any adverse effects.

Chris sighed with relief as Wyatt sent a burst of healing through him, removing the aches and pains and relaxing painfully stiff joints. "Mostly exhaustion," he murmured, groggy with fatigue, "And the complimentary splitting headache. You know, the usual."

Wyatt watched with worry as his brother succumbed to his exhaustion and fell into a deep sleep. Chris's power of empathy, inherited from his aunt Phoebe, had grown at an alarming rate in the past couple of years. While Phoebe had developed the ability to literally feel another's pain before her death, Chris had a far greater range. Where Phoebe's range was mostly restricted to the immediate one or two rooms surrounding her, Chris could sense nearly the entire mansion they resided in.

After the first time Chris had collapsed from sheer agony, Wyatt had ordered the lower levels, reserved for prisoners, moved to another location and every demon who came to the mansion had to take an empath blocking potion beforehand.

Wyatt was trying to find a way to strip it from Chris without affecting his other powers, but in the meantime the imposed isolation was all he could do. While Chris could adeptly block out the emotions of an entire crowd, he couldn't block out excessive pain. And it affected him nearly as bad as the one the pain was being inflicted on. The demon who had decided to flout his rules would pay dearly for this. Thanks to his incompetence, Chris would probably be bedridden for a day or two.

Carefully levitating Chris so he could pull down the covers, he gently slid the utterly exhausted man into the bed, securely tucking the blankets in around him. He didn't miss the pained wince when he jostled him, testimony to the harm inflicted on him through the carelessness of one of his subjects. Dropping a kiss on Chris's forehead to soothe him, and casting several spells around the room so that no one would disturb the slumbering witch, he left to take care of business. The demon would die a slow death.

No one got away with hurting his beloved.

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"How are you feeling?" Wyatt asked, noting the pale pallor and dark circles under his eyes. Chris had been sleeping for nearly a day and Wyatt had grown concerned.

"Better," Chris murmured, sitting up and taking the cup of hot tea that Wyatt pressed into his hands, "How long have I been out?"

"Nearly a day," Wyatt said, keeping his voice down to accommodate Chris's unvoiced headache. He nearly always had one after one of these episodes.

"I guess I just needed to sleep it off," Chris surmised, "I thought you were busy today. What are you doing here?"

"I was hardly going to leave you sprawled unconscious with no one to look after you," Wyatt explained, "We both know demons have a different view on 'care' and they're all too afraid to touch you. And then all the do-gooders couldn't be trusted not to take advantage of an opportunity such as this one. Besides, can I not be concerned for my lover without having to explain myself?"

"I suppose not," Chris agreed, putting the now empty cup on the bedside table. Wyatt drew him into a deep kiss and he moaned softly in appreciation. Wyatt gently pushed him down onto his back, settling himself over him and deepening the kiss. After a few minutes and with a frustrated groan, he looked towards the door where someone had just knocked and then back at the rather deliciously dishevelled Chris, sprawled underneath him. Growling in frustration, he gave him a rough kiss, and then pulled away. "We really need to finish this," he said, fixing his appearance in the mirror. "Just hold that thought, ok? I swear, the next thing that interrupts us is getting blown up!" he snapped, plenty aggravated.

Chris smirked at him, sitting up again, "The wonders of being the Source," he commented, "You'd almost think someone had planned this."

"Oh, just laugh!" Wyatt playfully sneered back, "I'll make you pay for that tonight."

"Is that a threat, Wy?"

"Just a little something for you to think on Chrissy."

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"I think I've neglected you long enough beloved. To hell with interruptions, I've already warded the bedroom so that the next person who tries it gets fried," Wyatt whispered into his ear as he slid a hand around his waist, holding him tightly to him. As Wyatt nibbled on his ear, Chris's eyes closed involuntarily, despair warring with longing inside of him.

Wyatt flamed them into the bedroom, the favoured method of transport for the Source rather than orbing. Chris yelped as he hit the bed bearing the brunt of Wyatt's weight on top of him. Slipping his hands down to Wyatt's sides, he began to tickle him mercilessly in revenge, only stopping when Wyatt grabbed his wrists and pinned them over his head. "That's not playing fair, Chris," Wyatt said with amusement, as Chris tried to squirm out of his hold, causing all sorts of delightful sensations as he accidentally rubbed up against Wyatt. "I already owe you some revenge from before. That's just strike two."

Chris's look changed from one of amusement to wariness, he knew that tone. Wyatt settled himself firmly atop the younger man, trailing his hands along his chest. Slowly undoing the buttons, he yanked it off before pulling off his own.

Kissing him forcefully, he swallowed the delightful whimpers that came from him as he played Chris's body like a finely tuned instrument. Re-pinning Chris's hands above his head with telekinesis, he concentrated on torturing his brother within an inch of his life.

Chris glared at him and breathlessly tried to tell him off, much to Wyatt's glee. Finally Chris couldn't take it anymore and fought back dirty, tormenting Wyatt using telekinesis and empathy to drive him insane.

Wyatt removed the final barriers of clothes between them, enjoying the feel of skin on skin. Summoning a vial of lubricant, he coated one finger and then without warning, slid it into Chris's entrance. The dark-haired witch's mouth fell open in shock at the intrusion and Wyatt took the opportunity to devour it once more, establishing his dominance over the other in this game.

Hitting Chris's sensitive spot constantly as he added, one then two more fingers, stretching him to accommodate his girth, groaning with pleasure and frustration at the length of time Wyatt was taking.

"You're such an impatient little thing, aren't you?" Wyatt teased, earning himself a pillow in the back of the head courtesy of the writhing witch. But his own control was limited as well, he was a virile young male after all and after all the interruptions he'd been forced to endure, he was at the end of his tether.

Removing his fingers, he replaced them with something bigger, carefully watching the brunette's face for any sign of pain. Seeing none, he began to move and soon rapture overtook them both.

Tired, content and sated, Wyatt sleepily drew Chris closer to him, spooning up behind him and possessively looping an arm around his waist before falling into slumber. Sheltered in his arms, a single tear fell from Chris's eye.

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Author's Notes: please READ and REVIEW. Opinions welcome. Should I continue this or not?