Summary: We all have two families: the ones we're born with and the ones we choose. But what happens when the ones you thought you were born with really chose you? An AU Fanfiction about Chris… Turner? Traveling back to save the Halliwells.
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xCourage Under Fire
Productions
presents
Counterfeit Connections
A Charmed FanFiction
by
Diesel Cayden Porter
{_.."… … … … … … …""(_}
Author's note: THE FIRST TWO CHAPTERS ARE JUST A PRELUDE! THE REST OF THE FANFICTION WILL BE IN THE PRESENT! THIS STORY IS BASED OFF THE ONE MY COUSIN STARTED BUT DROPPED DUE TO LACK OF INTEREST. LET'S MAKE HIM WISH HE KEPT WITH IT, SHALL WE? (Eat your heart out Thatcher!)
IMPORTANT NOTICE: IN MY PROFILE IS A LIST OF CHARACTERS AND THEIR POWERS. ALSO, I HAVE A STILL I UPLOADED FROM THIS CHAPTER OF CHRIS AND MELINDA. CHECK IT OUT. LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT MORE STILLS!
Chapter Two: Somewhere a Clock is Ticking
[xXx]
I've got this feeling that there's something that I missed
Don't you breathe, don't you breathe
Something happened, that I never understood
[xXx]
Wyatt wasn't always evil. That much Chris knew for certain. He remembered blue skies that never went away, not a cloud in the sky or a rainy day. His brother was the pinnacle of good and he'd struggled to follow in his footsteps constantly looking up to him… wanting to be just like him. Then suddenly he wasn't Wyatt anymore but a monster. It happened in a blink, a flash.
Something had to have a hand in changing him and Chris wanted nothing more than to find out what.
But first that meant escaping.
Gorgeous green scrutinizes every aspect of bars for any hint of weakness for the third time in a single night.
"Don't bother, Houdini. That's reinforced steel," she reprimands growing tired of Chris's restlessness. "No expense spared by big brother to keep us captive."
Unlike Chris, she seemed to lack memories of the good Wyatt leaving no love lost between the two siblings. Not that Chris could blame her. If he wasn't cursed with those memories, if his perspective wasn't so warped with better days, he would probably feel the same.
"When one door closes, look for the next and when you're out of doors, find a window," he recites in a drone.
"Uh oh," the brunette says grabbing the bars and pulling herself up. "It's never a good sign when you're quoting Aunt Phoebe.
A cheeky grin sneaks its way onto the sad brunette's lips despite herself. Stubborn. Sarcastic. Sweet. Strong. The best parts of her that she thought were long gone show around him, her big bro. There was no hiding it, no diminishing it. They were the best part of each other, the best of friends. The demon sticks his tongue out at the brunette before sauntering casually over to the bars that separated them.
"What can I say? The woman's a genius," he mutters placing his hands over hers, "All Halliwell women are."
"Good answer, bro."
Her fingers intertwine with his and they stand like that until he hears the metal clinking in place and boots scuffling along echo. Then there's a desperation burning in his eyes that she's never seen before, a desire to make everything alright and a last ditch effort coming.
"Do you trust me?" he asks direly.
With furrowed brows and a new fear taking over she responds, "Normally when someone asks that it means they're about to test it."
His hands move from hers and cup her face as he asks again.
"Mel, do you trust me?"
"With my life."
"Good. Lie down and play dead," he roughly whispers pushing her back from the bars.
She went down onto the grubby cobblestone hard but immediately did as told. When Chris spoke in that tone, the situation is the direst. She willed herself to appear dead, hold her breath and not dare open her eyes. Suddenly, cries of panic tore through the air and the sound of heavy footfalls land at the cell next to hers.
"Oh God! Please you've got to help her," he cries desperately, panic evident. "Sh-she got a hold of a… and oh God! Please do something!"
At first the brute demon on guard duty just stared blankly at the powerful demon before him like he didn't process the terror ridden cries that left Chris's lips.
"Do you want to tell Wyatt you let his little sister die?"
Suddenly a spark of understand lit in the demon's coal colored eyes, the signal flare of his plans commencement. The brute doesn't hesitate opening the lock that led to Lucas's cell. He glanced down at her unresponsive form, a barbaric demon almost appearing concerned.
As it leans down to check the witch's pulse, eyelids snap open to reveal the hazel of her irises and her feet kick the demon back into the cell wall separating their cells. Thick arms wrap around its neck as Chris grabs hold and, almost instantaneously, oxygen deprived lungs burn and his body convulsed in one violent spasm before falling limply to the floor.
"Great job Mel Bell. Now quick, get his key and athame."
She gave the body a nudge to make sure he was completely out of it then feminine hands pat over the demon's uniform as she searched for the familiar jingle jangle of metallic keys. Then once found she picked out the objects of Chris's desire and chucks them his way before racing out of her own cell. The air already tastes sweeter, freedom a euphoric feeling to the girl that'd been trapped for a year.
"Whata'bout the bands, Chris? We won't get very far without our powers?" she rations.
The same thought had plagued his mind since he planned his break in, a hitch that he has resolved again. He takes the athame into his right hand and dug it painfully into his left forearm with sharp calcium cutting into his lip in an attempt to alleviate the pain. As she's about to question what the hell he was doing, he slips the dagger into his boot and moves his hand back up, digging his index finger and thumb into the deep laceration to pull out a small metallic device. With the click of a button it jammed the frequencies of the bands.
Then he tosses it to his baby sister outside the cell and begins to fumble with the keys finding the right one and springing it free. Without hesitation the young brunette pulled it open and threw her arms around her brother for a proper hug she'd been deprived of for so long.
"C'mon," he says taking her hand and starting down the hallway. "We've got a hell of a lot more cells to open.
[xXx]
Every second dripping off my fingertips,
Wage your war, wage your war.
Another soldier says he's not afraid to die.
[xXx]
There are choices in war. Hard choices. Difficult decisions. Actions taken that under different circumstances you would never even consider, but in war anything goes. A demon faction battled the humans and other mystical beings looking to take over the world and usurp it in the name of Wyatt. So outmanned , outgunned, and certainly out of options, Chris lead the uprising of rioting prisoners through the passageways of the dark fortress more than likely to their deaths.
He stayed with them, fought the good fight with his sister by his side, guiding her to his intended destination and quickly closing the door behind. If he didn't know better he'd say they arrived at El Dorado, the lost city of gold. The room seemed to be crafted of the stuff and what wasn't was untold riches but none fazed the warrior except for the most valuable treasure of them all.
The Book of Shadows.
It stood on a golden pedestal calling to him and he quickly responded. He trudged forward, his boots making thuds as they beat the ground until he takes his rightful place at the podium and stares down at the one and only Book of Shadows like he'd done a million times before, only this time was different. For a moment, he rested his hands on the old leather. It was a moment that settled, a moment that last longer than a moment should. Then fingers take the edge of the cover and open it, the old pages creaking and continuing time.
Anxious to get back out and help innocents escape- man, was she her mother's daughter- the pushy brunette told him to grab the book. But the hardened war hero saw the bigger picture. They were the Alamo, the futile last stand being stood right now. Except there was nothing magical about that tragic battle. They couldn't turn back time. He could. A hand dips into his boot and pulls out a piece of chalk he'd hidden then tosses it to her.
"We're not going to take it back to the fortress. We're using it to travel back in time," he says as if it was common knowledge. "Now draw the triquetra on the nearest surface. I'll find the spell."
Even as he fumbles through searching page after page, he uses a certain reverence when handling the book, his holy bible. Its pull so overwhelming that he becomes numbed to his surroundings… so numb that he didn't hear the sound of dark orbs fill the air of the room of gold… of the figure that formed behind him drawing near… Excalibur being drawn…
But she did.
"Chris, look out!" she screams at the top of her lungs and he hears it.
He hears it.
And that very call out saves his life for the moment. However, he isn't quick enough to avoid injury entirely. A strong arm forces itself up to block and the unforgiving metal wielded by an even more unforgiving man. Into his flesh it embeds itself and slices deeper until it hits bone and a pained cry reverberates off the golden surroundings.
Desperation leaks into the younger Halliwell's bloodstream causing him to react. Using his intact arm, Chris throws out a closed fist and connects with the dictator's face. Stumbling backwards, Wyatt moves pulling Excalibur out with him. But it wasn't going to keep the Twice-Blessed away for long and all parties involved knew it.
"Mel, get the spell and go," Chris roars whipping his arm angrily to send the older of the brothers only skidding backwards and rocketing a energyball as a counter strike.
But the younger sister had another plan. Feeling the adrenaline racing through her body, a pair of hauntingly hazel orbs shift to her older brother. Soft locks whip at creamy shoulders as she crept up behind Wyatt whispering for a sword with a golden hilt she saw amongst the vast riches and it forms in her hand post a shower of blue orbs.
Meanwhile Chris was too busy guarding where he thought she was headed to realize where she really was, not that the series of energyballs being hurled at him helped his tracking of his baby sister any. A stray energyball gets him in the chest as he dives to avoid another and is sent careening downward until he collides with the gilded flooring bashing his head in the process.
The ground feels cold beneath him, his breaths shallow and painful. She closed her eyes as she struggled for air, barely able to turn and look at the carnage about to unfold. The fearless brunette races forward seeing it as her opportunity to strike. Arms raise high into the air and swing the sword downward with all the force she could muster, but he was too fast and sensed her coming from a mile away.
Lightning like reflexes come into play as Wyatt turns and blocks the deadly shot. In one fluid motion Wyatt breaks the stalemate and pushes her back. Then her sword went the other way, cutting a horizontal path through the air, aiming for his head but the Twice Blessed ducks out of harm's way and stabbed forward running her through.
"No," cries Chris, his baby sister's pained gasp tethering him back to reality.
From his back he pops up instantaneously, adrenaline taking precedence over the agonizing pain pounding away at his body. A loud roar continues to pour from his lips as he telekinetically sends his brother flying back into one of the many mounds of gold and coins. Then he keeps moving racing forward and catching his little sister before she fell face first into the ground.
"Hey-hey. It's okay. S'okay. I got you," he sooths despite the circumstance. "You're gonna be okay."
She knew when he lied, knew him better than anyone. And that last sentence couldn't be any farther from the truth. For as long as she can remember, he was always doing everything in his power to protect her but he couldn't protect her from this, couldn't save her from death.
"You're a terrible liar," she manages to stutter out. "G- go fin-ish mission."
The request not only tugged at his heartstrings but severed them completely. He couldn't accept the request, accept that he couldn't save her. Throughout the course of his life he'd lost many people, countless even so losing her just wasn't a possibility. Or at least he doesn't want it to be.
But that's the thing about this dark world.
Wants don't matter.
His calloused hand delicately cups her face, bringing her attention back towards him so that she can look into his eyes and see he means it.
"I'm going to fix this… all of it," he whispers moving in to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead before gathering every ounce of strength he has to tear himself from her.
Right before he does though, she catches something so heart wrenching that she wished he didn't have to carry this cross. Something was burning in his eyes… tears? No. Chris Halliwell never cries. He didn't even cry when their mother died. Never. It was almost as if it was a physical impossibility but there it was…
A liquid burning in his eyes until it spilt as they separated.
Step by step he moved towards the book feet scuffling against the ground as if they were being controlled by his heart instead of his head, resisting the inevitable. Then he's at the book finger following each word as he read aloud:
'Hear these words,
Hear the rhyme
Heed the hope within my Mind
Send me back to where I'll find
What I wish in place and Time.'
The portal opened in a swirl, the triquetra lights a brilliant blue that resembles the color of sparkling orbs. It's bright, beautiful, and full of promise. From the corner of his eye he sees the mound of gold, Wyatt sank deep into began to tremble as the power within tries to free himself. It is then that he knows he has to go. He has to move. Now or never. Do or die. Sink or swim.
Long legs begin their race as ears take in the sound of his big brother exploding out of the medallions and coins he was submerged in, metal clinking against it's surroundings as they shower down onto the room.
"CHRISTOPHER GET BACK HERE," he shouts at the top of his lungs mistaking the fearless warrior racing forward with the baby brother that bent to his will he used to be.
Energyballs are rocketed off in a last ditch effort to stop the warrior but he's too far gone diving through the portal and leaving the energyballs to crash against the wall in his wake.
[xXx]
In slow motion, the blast is beautiful
Doors slam shut, Doors slam shut
A clock is ticking, but it's hidden far away
Safe and sound, Safe and sound
[xXx]
This is the end of the prelude to Chris's time in the present. This'll be a Chris revelation fic like nobody's ever seen but to see it, ya' guys gotta keep those reviews coming in. It only takes a moment of your time and motivates me so much, so please keep 'em coming.
And thank you to those who have.
HeavensDarkestRose
Wiccanforever
