Title: Invisibility

Fandom: Wizards of Waverly Place

Rating/Content: Jalex. PG to PG-13 for sibling incest, a few bad words, and unsupervised use of magic.

Summary: It turns out there are a lot of ways to make someone disappear. Or, Four times Alex made Justin disappear, and one time she didn't?

Spoilers/episodes: Takes place after 'Graphic Novel'. Spoilers for 'Justin's Little Sister' and 'Graphic Novel'.

A/N: Chapter fic – my first, so if I mess it up, feel free to let me know. I'm always grateful to know what you think of my writing, or what you think I can do better. Thanks for reading.

Disclaimer: I don't Wizards of Waverly Place, or anything else that might look familiar. Damn.

Chapter 1

The second time Alex Russo makes her older brother disappear, no one acts surprised. Justin announces it at the breakfast table the next day like it's some big deal, but the scolding from her parents is halfhearted at best. He's visible now, right? When it comes to Alex and the abuse of magic, this doesn't even make her list of greatest hits. Also, if he would have moved a couple of inches like she asked, she could've finished watching the All Night Unicorn Attack Marathon, and then she wouldn't have had to. He totally made a better door than a window. So, she fixed the problem. What? Justin isn't the only one who can solve problems in this family.

Her grounding only lasts three days, and Justin looks scandalized. Alex puts on her contrite face. When no one else is looking, she kicks him under the table and grins. His answering glare gives her the same warm feeling of accomplishment she's come to expect whenever she's making life difficult for Justin. At least this way, she knows she's got his attention?

When Alex gets up from the table, her plate nudges his by mistake. Barely even a tap, it's still enough to tip his orange juice into his lap.

There's a third time, of course. What's the point of stopping, when she's just starting to get really good at it? After all, everyone's always going blah blah blah about how great it is to have a hobby; as hobbies go, this is way better than poking things with sticks.

It's been months and months since the first time she accidentally erased his existence; more than enough time to get over the guilt. Technically, it was the genie who did it, but somehow Alex ended up with all the credit.

So at least this time she didn't make him not-exist for everyone but her, right? Which is a good thing. Because, being the only person in the world who remembered her dorky, maddening, disgustingly gifted older brother was a pain in the ass, alright? It's not as if she liked it, or anything. So what if Alex had him all to herself for once and he was forced to depend on her, so what if her own mother thought she should probably go out with him, if Mom called him a catch and Harper called dibs, so what about all that? The threat of losing him altogether when she made the second wish didn't make her appreciate him more, or anything. And for the record, those weren't tears. She has allergies, okay? They run in the family.

The third time is Justin's fault. He's the one who gets all bent out of shape about Alex going into his room without asking. (And he just keeps going on and on about the way his Captain Jim Bob Sherwood comic book collection is vanishing – get it, vanishing? – a piece at a time. But he totally can't prove it's Alex.)

So when he ambushes her there on a night when he's not even supposed to be home, it's only natural that she would panic, drop her wand, pick it up pointed the wrong direction, and end up casting the cloaking spell on Justin instead of herself. The cloaking spell is new, she's trying it out. Justin's supposed be gone on an overnight nerdfest with the Loser Language League until tomorrow, which is why Alex is in the middle of steal—borrowing his scrapbook of the ActionNews Weathergirl (Because, seriously? Asking for it.) when he just barges in.

Maybe if he had the decency to knock once in a while, things would have turned out differently, but does anyone ever think of that when it's time to assign blame? True, it's Justin's room, but come on. Alex stuck at home, Justin gone overnight: he should have known. And people say he's the smart one!

Justin completely freaks out about the cloaking spell. She's pretty sure his bellow can be heard for miles, or at least throughout the Sub Station, going "ALEX! WHAT DID YOU DO!" And it's weird, but even though she can't see him, she knows exactly what his face looks like right now. Like she doesn't need to see the murder in his eyes, she just knows it's there. (Also weird? How her parents never wake up during their not infrequent late night brawls. But it works for her, so why ask questions.)

Now apparently empty of Justin, his bright green alien nerdsuit advances on her in a threatening manner. She manages, barely, to contain her snort of laughter. Even invisible he's so not scary.

"Alex," he starts in, "I have TOLD you not to come in my room without permission, how many times do I have to—"

"Look, dude, " she interrupts, before he starts to sound any more like Dad, "I was just returning your stuff. But if you don't want it back..." She holds up the scrapbook in one hand, solid proof.

This doesn't have the calming effect she was going for, because all at once he gets so quiet that she can pretty much hear his blood pressure going up. That little vein on one side of his neck is gonna be pulsing right now, while his eyes get all big and shocked. It's a good show, she's a little sorry he's see-through and she's missing it. You'd think he'd be used to her by now, right? Without seeing his face, she knows it's all pink with rage.

"HOW LONG HAVE YOU HAD THAT?" he explodes, once he's built up enough steam. "Did you… Did you read it, Alex? That's personal! Private! I swear if you've been—been reading my private records then I'm going to – I'm going to—to do something serious! It'll be really bad, Alex, I mean it!" His voice shakes with emotion, and she can see his shirt move in the way that means he's crossing his arms sternly. Justin is so funny when he splutters.

Interesting. "Nope. I just grabbed this by mistake. Because it was… dark? Yeah, so anyway, I meant to take your binder from last year's American History? Because, just guessing, but I'm pretty sure you keep every assignment you've ever done, and I've got this report due on Monday, so." It slides out easily, unrehearsed, explaining everything. It's not even a lie really, just the part about what she was doing in his room. Come to think of it, maybe she could use that History report after all? She was planning borrow (plagiarize is such an ugly word), from Nelly Rodriguez, but cheating off Justin might be even better. Why is she saying 'might be'? Definitely better.

"Although," she grins, pretending to think it over, "It sounds like there's some stuff in here you really don't want me to see, so maybe I should just hold onto—"

Unseen hands yank the scrapbook away before she can finish. A drawer beside his bed jerks open angrily, practically yanking itself out of the nightstand. The thick scrapbook floats inside and the drawer slams shut. (Second drawer, left side. Noted.) There's the click of a lock, then a tiny key puts itself away. What, like Alex can't pick one of those fake-ass locks? She feels vaguely insulted.

"Reverse the spell," Justin growls, in his not-messing-around-now voice, "and get out." Alex is surprised, a little, by how mad he is. She takes his stuff all the time; this is hardly their first rodeo. (Wait, did she just think that? Way too much time around Laritate.)

She slides her wand out of a loose pajama sleeve, twirls the tip in a tight spiral, pointed in the right direction this time. Her brother's troubled face fades into view like a computer screen coming to life. She was right about the color it would be. He takes her by the upper arm, roughly.

"OUT, Alex!" He half-shoves her through the door. It shuts it in her face, and she hears the snick of the lock sliding home. For real, what's his damage?

She comes back and takes the History binder after he's asleep.