Title: Saving
Summary: AU While Chris was in the past trying to save Wyatt, someone was in the future; attempting the same feat. Attempting to awaken the goodness and humanity inside his dark heart. Even the Source of All Power needs saving. WyattOC 'T' for safety. Might go up.
Characters: Wyatt and OC, among others.
Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed. If I did, then it would still be going today.
Okay! So, I think I've lapsed back into my Charmed addiction, NEVER healthy. But I got to thinking, if Chris was trying so hard to save Wyatt in the past, was anyone trying in the future? And if so, how were they going to achieve it? And therefore this was born. I'm a little nervous that maybe this isn't that plausible but I hope that how I write it will make it seem more believable. Please review, criticism and flames are welcome, I am freezing here in Australia. Oh and this is unBetaed so sorry for any mistakes. Enjoy.
Please Read: Ok. After an extremely valid review I realised that I should probably say something here and now. This story will not Chris in any fashion.
I know most people enjoying reading Chris and Wyatt fics but I am attempting to stay within some events that were established during season 6, such as the fact that Chris only returns to the future once. I'll try to include some parts were Chris is mentioned or Wyatt might think about his brother but I want to try and keep this set during the unchanged future.
Thanks to artisticfan for pointing that out. If I can improve my OC is any way, please let me know.
Lord Wyatt, self-proclaimed ruler of the Earth gazed coldly out over the crumbling underworld. It could use some work. But then again, the surface wasn't faring any better. Many had questioned the hybrid why he remained underground, and few had survived to hear the answer. It was all about fear. Fear and respect.
The dark underworld was perfect, no resistance dare enter and when he seldom walked among his empire the entire world trembled, terrified of the reason why their lord and master had risen from his thrown in 'Hell' as the mortals had deemed it, to walk about the dying cities. That and the flocks of demons, demigods and other ghastly creatures preferred the gloomy underground.
The cavern was equal in size to the throne room at Buckingham Palace, a room which Wyatt had relished in destroying, among the Oval office and the Vatican City to name a few. The cavern possessed no single entrance, but instead the entire back wall had been blasted away to form a large cave mouth, overlooking buildings below.
Each burning brightly as the lava flowed around it and the entire population of the underworld lived under the watchful eye of their Lord.
Tables with crude plans crowded the outskirts and main expanse between the walls was filled with the many minions of his empire. And finally, at the head of the room stairs led up to a throne, akin to those illustrated within fairy tales with an exception. No gold lined the thrown, no pure white cushions extruded from the frame.
This throne was the seat of power for the Source of All Power and was black; that deepest, darkest black that haunted your nightmares. And upon this image of pain and misery sat no other than the destroyer himself, blonde curls falling to his shoulders and hazel eyes sweeping over the entirety of the sight that lay before him.
Beside him, various slaves waited for order. Some carried food, others stood silently until their services were required. The cavern buzzed with commotion, demons discussing plans, manticores and vampires constantly fighting and darklighters trading powers with the many bounty hunters scattered throughout their midst's. A commotion, louder than the entire hall combined began to echo from a side corridor before spilling out into the cavern.
Slowly and surely the large audience quietened, and watch in disbelief as two demons pulled a struggling prisoner down the corridor and into the hall. The crowd parted and the threesome trudged down the centre, the demons efforts being impeded by the struggling mass.
They were close enough for others to see, two lower level demons dragged a young woman, with dirty brunette hair that whipped dangerously to and fro as she struggled. Cuts adorned her arms and a large gash was bleeding on her left cheek. Her dark jeans were ripped and the dark, combat shirt was ripped in the midriff section revealing numerous faint scars.
They came to a halt at the bottom of the stairs. Wyatt's eyes darkened and he rose swiftly from his throne. "Leave us" he commanded and despite the size of the room, every one of its occupants heard him and scrambled to get out. Some shimmered, others flamed while the majority simply retreated into the town below. The once crowded room now seemed impossibly large and each step that Wyatt descended echoed painfully throughout the underworld.
He took in the woman's appearance; a smirk adorned his face at her defiance as she stood tall despite the shackles encasing her hands. The Source slowly turned to the demons, who cowered slightly. "Who is she?" The words were quite and hissed.
"We captured her during a patrol. She's from the resistance." The first demon muttered. "Yes, I can see that. But what is she doing here?" Wyatt's voice remained level, a certain edge remaining. "W-w-well, she took out the entire patrol. W-w-we were the reinforcements and j-j-just barely managed to contain her and block her magic." The demon stuttered, glancing fearfully over at his partner. "We t-thought you would be interested, considering the magnitude of power she possesses."
"And since when do I GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO THINK?" The anger in Wyatt's voice caused rocks to fall and the floor to tremble. The demons began to shrink back in fear and an energy ball slowly formed in Wyatt's outstretched hand.
"You mean since when have they had the capacity to think?" The sarcastic comment emerged and the woman gave a wry smile, and the energy ball disappeared as Wyatt turned his attention to the witch in disbelief.
And then he laughed. A deep, hollow laugh the bounced about the walls and sent chills down the spines of the witch's capturers. "Well, well, well," the dark lord mused and he stepped forward, an evil smile still gracing his lips. "There's a first, a resistance member with a sense of humour." He continued to look over the woman. "I might just keep you. Strangely you amuse me."
The woman tilted her head. "Thanks," she drawled, "I'll remember to add that to my resume." She finished, her voice laced with spite.
A sharp THWACK was heard and the witch felt her face burn and her lip bleed from the slap. "You may amuse me, but retort again and I will kill you." Wyatt sneered darkly and his fingers crackled with energy.
The woman spat the blood onto the ground and returned her gaze to the hybrid. "Okey Dokey Skippy." Growling Wyatt raised his hand began to telekinetically choke the witch in front. She gasped and tried to vain to breathe. She dropped to her knees and her chest began to constrict. A sudden, low horn sounded and interrupted the witch's slow death. Wyatt snapped his gaze up and released his hold upon the witch.
She dropped weakly to the ground, coughing and gasping for air. The bounty hunters had returned, the elite team Wyatt had sent to capture the Resistance members. He glared mercilessly down at the woman. "Put her with the other slaves." He snapped at the two demons, who quickly began to pull the witch to her feet. "And get her some proper clothes," he sneered once more.
He walked back up to his throne and upon reaching the top of the stairs, he whipped around. "What's your name witch?" Wyatt's harsh voice caused the demons to wince in pain. The young prisoner looked defiantly up into Wyatt's eyes and struggled to stand by herself. "Ismara. Ismara Hunt." The dark lord studied this 'Ismara Hunt' for a few seconds before angrily dismissing the threesome. He watched them disappear and muttered darkly, and resumed his seat overlooking his empire.
Review? The next chapters will be longer. Hopefully.