Twist of Fate

By Pink-Charmed-One

Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed. Life is cruel. How is it that I can own a toothbrush, but I can't own Charmed? Hey, speaking of unfair things--WHERE WAS DREW ON LAST NIGHT'S EPISODE, HMMMM? Older Wyatt, younger Wyatt, younger Chris, older--oh, wait, noooo--They FORGOT DREW! Humph. And does anyone else feel like baby Chris, like, doesn't exist anymore? Honestly! He might as well be dead, the way they're ignoring him on the show! (grumble, grumble...)

Chapter One:

Year 2008

The streets of San Francisco were filled with screams—of anguish, of hate, and mostly of fear. People fearing the unknown: magic. A group had declared themselves the witch hunters, and they were scouring the city and not leaving one suspected witch alive.

The witch hunters, ranging from every age, gender and ethnicity, rampaged, tearing entire buildings apart as they murdered. In their hands were flaming torches, knives and guns. Everyone and anyone that looked suspicious were killed on the spot. There was virtually no safe place within miles; the fear was spreading, infecting people like a virus, causing the once good man to perform the unforgivable act of killing another being.

And in the midst of this all were the three Charmed Ones, uncertain and panicking. They knew they had to stop this, but they had no power against it. If they did choose to intervene, they would be revealed and killed on the spot, which wouldn't get them anywhere. The alternative was watching innocent people die. What could they do?

Piper's hands were clutched by her two boys, Wyatt and Chris, at this point ages four and six. In Phoebe's arms was Mel, her three-year-old daughter; Paige herself was pregnant. The sisters were in no position to make risks.

"We've got to get out of here," Phoebe urged, though she was rooted to the spot in the middle of the street, surrounded by the chaos. Nobody moved. Mel whimpered and buried her face into Phoebe's shoulder, alarmed by all the commotion and the mobs.

"What can we do?" Paige cried. "We can't leave these people out here!"

A window shattered behind them and shards of glass sprayed all around. Chris screamed, receiving most of the blow, but went unnoticed as the sisters contemplated their next move.

"I don't think there's another option," Piper admitted, tears springing into her eyes. "We'll be caught. You know that as well as I do. These people won't let anyone go—we're outnumbered by thousands, Paige. Maybe hundreds of thousands of people, and they all want us to die."

"Mommy," Chris said feebly, now ignoring his numerous scrapes.

"Hush," Piper scolded.

"But mommy—"

"Chris, I said to—" Before she could utter another word, a man had launched himself on top of her and thrown her onto the gravel street.

"Witches! All of you, witches! You use magic, you devil-worshippers!"

"Get off of me, you oaf!" Piper shrieked, struggling under the man's surprising strong frame. Paige and Phoebe were immediately trying to free their sister when they were seized just as quickly. Mel was left beside Wyatt and Chris as the scene unfolded before them.

"Wyatt, do something!" Chris screamed. "Wyatt—"

"What can I do?" Wyatt yelled back. "I can't do anything!"

"You're the powerful one!" Chris wailed. "Daddy and mommy always said you were better! Make them go away, Wyatt!"

Wyatt plugged his ears, blocking Chris out and sobbing in frustration himself. Chris didn't know what to do—all his life, his parents had been sure to let him know that he would never be as powerful as Wyatt. If Wyatt couldn't save them, who could?

His glance fleeted over to little Mel. She'd never be able to defend herself if they took her away. Somehow—someway, he had to—

His energy began to focus and gather inside of him. His radiant green eyes suddenly iced over, staring directly at the Charmed One's attackers. There was so much fury, so much confusion and panic inside of him, that it all went into his one task: getting the sisters, Wyatt and Mel out of there.

In an instant, they were engulfed by orbs and carried Up There.

Unfortunately, Chris' newfound power was not enough to carry him Up There with them.

The men rounded on him next. Their leader, the original attacker, opened his mouth to accuse Chris of the inevitable. Chris knew he was doomed the instant that man laid eyes on him. They wouldn't show anyone, not even a four-year-old boy, any mercy. He would not be an exception to their ruthlessness.

And perhaps then, it was the explosion that suddenly erupted beside him that saved his life. Bricks from the building catapulted in their direction and flames leapt from the destruction. Chris was hit, knocked unconscious in an instant, and fell to the ground with a thud.

For the rest of the battle, people stepped over him, assuming him dead. It wasn't until three days later that he woke, groggy and in pain, without any memory of his previous life. Members from the newly found Alliance took him in, and from that day on, he was nothing more than Chris, the orphan boy with minimal witch powers.

It wasn't till ten years later that things finally began to change.

Year 2018

"Chris," Owen called from across one of the vast, twisting halls of the underground Alliance headquarters. "Pete said he wanted to see you for something. An assignment."

Chris looked up in surprise at his good friend, only about two years older than himself. "Really? Um, okay." He turned in direction and headed towards Pete's office instead of going down to the Mess Hall. "Did he say anything about what it was?"

"No, but I think it's important." Owen grinned. "Good luck, Chris," he said, patting Chris on the back as he passed. "Your first big one. Wow, do you guys grow up fast." He mocked fake-tears and kept walking. "See ya later."

"Yeah, see ya." Chris was a little excited by the idea of a mission, but he knew it wouldn't be too important or intense. He only had one power, and that was telekinesis. Besides, he couldn't even control it very well. The Alliance took him in because he was a witch and had nowhere else to go—at least that's how he felt about it. He had no family that he knew of, no real identity. He wasn't even sure if Chris was his real name. An assignment for him didn't exactly sound like the biggest thrill in the world, considering it would probably be someone else's super-easy dirty work.

But maybe today things would change.

He stepped tentatively inside Pete's office and sat down on one of the rusty chairs in front of his desk. "You wanted to see me?" he asked.

Pete lifted his head from yesterday's newspaper that he'd been scowling at and realized Chris had entered. "Oh, yes. Sorry. I get a little absorbed sometimes, as you know." The older man shook his head. "Another witch killed on a mission yesterday. One of our stronger ones, too. Not in our quadrant, though," Pete was quick to assure Chris. "Nobody we'd know. But nonetheless, it affects us."

"How so?" Chris asked. He almost didn't want to know, because he had a queasy feeling it had something to do with him.

"This time, we didn't lose a witch to a witch-hunter—one of our own was the murderer of Cassandra Welling of the fourth quadrant downtown."

"What do you mean, one of our own?"

Pete sighed, putting his head in his hands. "Chris, there is more out there than just the Alliance. Some witches chose to risk it and live out on their own. The wounds that ended Cassandra weren't demonic and definitely weren't caused by any mortal man—they were very distinctive, actually, to the only boy who could have caused them."

"Why would a witch kill another witch?" Chris burst. "That's insane! We're already losing witches to the cause everyday—"

"That, Chris, is where I was hoping you could come in." Pete's eyes flickered in Chris' direction. "The boy in question is half witch, half whitelighter. That's how we know that it is only possible that he was the one that murdered Cassandra. What we need to know is why—what his purpose was, if he intends to do more evil than good, and if he is a potential threat to our safety. He's sixteen years old, by the name of Wyatt Halliwell."

Chris winced.

"What?" asked Pete, concerned. "Look, Chris, you don't have to do this. It was just a thought—"

"No, no," Chris said hurriedly. "It's just…that name. I don't know where I've heard it before."

"He has pretty famous parents. An elder and a Charmed One. That's some real power he's got there."

That's some real power he's got there, my little buddy Wyatt.

Chris shook off the weird voice in his head. "What can I do, though? I can barely manage my telekinesis."

"This isn't a question of power, Chris. This is a question of intelligence. That's why I think you're the best for the job."

"What job? How could I do anything?"

"Think about this for a moment, Chris. Wyatt's sixteen years old, two years older than you are. What I want you to do is try to connect with him. Befriend him, ask him to train you, even stalk him like you're some kind of a sick admirer—find some way to make him include you in his life. Then learn his motives as you gain his trust." Pete's eyes locked with Chris' solemnly. "I've known you for the whole duration of what you can remember of your life, Chris. I know you're capable of performing this task, and frankly, you're the only one I trust with it. Are you willing to accept?"

"Yes, but…"

"But what?"

"What do you have in the way of information?" Chris asked curiously. "I mean, who is his family? What school does he go to? Any personality traits that are prominent?"

"He has two aunts, Phoebe and Paige, Charmed Ones. His father, Leo, is the elder, and his mother, Piper, is a Charmed One. Phoebe has a daughter named Mel, thirteen years, and a husband named Cole. Paige has a son named Jake, widowed to Jake Mecca as of five years ago when the witch-hunters caught him and killed him.

He attends San Francisco High and seems to be pretty well known there, as far as we can see. He's on the football team, aggressive, and has sort of a quick temper. We don't have knowledge of all of his powers yet, however. We're depending on you to figure that out."

"I'll do it," Chris accepted. "Where could I find them?"

"The Manor, on the Nexus—you know where that is. Or the high school. Maybe even P3—Piper owns that club. It should be pretty easy trying to meet them. It's the befriending and earning trust that looks the most difficult."

Chris sat silently for a moment. "When can I leave?"

Pete smiled. He could always depend on Chris. "Whenever you want—just be sure to check in with us at least every three days, and make sure nobody follows you underground."

"Got it." Chris stood. "I'll be seeing you then, Pete."

"Good luck, Chris, and be careful."

"I will," Chris promised. He already had an idea in mind of how he was going to connect with these Halliwells, though, so there was no time to waste. He quickly exited the room and headed out to the Underground.

Now to find P3. That was where his journey would begin.

Shall I continue? Let me know lol. Thanks for reading!