Disclaimer: No rights to Charmed.
Author's Notes: Yeah, I haven't updated in three days and I feel terrible, but what can you do? I'm participating in an unofficial writing competition where I have to write thousands of words in twelve stories in twelve different genres but I am explicitly not allowed to do fanfiction as either a story or as a genre - which sucks because a little plot bunny bounded into my head holding a thesaurus bookmarked on Pococurante and this is what the plot bunny gave me.
For the word defined below, if you need a reference, I referred to Lord Wyatt as being "concupiscent," whereas Lord Christopher had a "pococurante" disposition. Also, the phrases Chris says in Eredun don't matter even though I could define them. The other language is not the point of the story and since we are in shifting limited third person, I do not translate the phrases, because Chris only says them when we are following Leo and his thoughts. Leo does not know Eredun, he does not wish to and I will not translate the phrases in the story. If you ask in a review or PM, however, I will reply with the translations if you desperately need them or want to know them.
I was asked about why I characterised Leo as a homophobic individual. Leo is homophobic because A. Leo was born in 1924, B. you would not believe the amount of really good people that irrationally hate other people over really silly things. I'm not saying Leo is a horrible person, I'm saying he was raised with the irrational beliefs of the past and we never really saw that explored on the show. My grandparents, I love them, I do, but you would not believe my liberal, atheist, queer-ally self came from those nice, but bigoted, hateful people. You would not believe the amount of nice people that can still generate so much hate. Leo has had enough female charges to recognise that women are just as, if not more, capable than men. Leo has been around coloured whitelighters and witches, I assume, long enough to recognise that colour does not define the morality or ability of people. Leo has not been around openly LGBTQQIAA people, thus he still harbours some innate disgust from his upbringing. I'm saying that A. Leo is from the twenties, B. people can still be raised irrationally now and spout the craziest of things while still being kind and intelligent, C. people are inherently flawed and can sometimes behave irrationally or cruelly to one another. Plus, I have never written a homophobic character and I wanted to try and believably write someone I don't agree with. I wanted to diversify my writing style. I'm not saying Leo is evil. I'm not saying he's stupid. I'm saying he, like everyone else, is a product of his upbringing. His upbringing did not include the inherent acceptance of everyone else as they are. He is a really nice character, but that doesn't mean he treats people fairly or kindly if they are different from him in "key" ways.
Warnings: Leo's homophobia, language, references to violence, conspiracy, breakdowns, OOC, etc.
Chapter 6: Reflections and Ruses.
Concupiscence
(Noun).
Strong, usually sexual, desire; intense passion; (IN CATHOLICISM) the unruly desires of the will such as pride, ambition and envy; the evil desire indwelling sin.
"Kas shemael oomiene," Chris thanked them and the demonic sprites shimmered away. He gave a wry smile to the air and lifted a brow as he called, "You can come out now," Leo orbed in front of him and Chris rolled his eyes, saying derisively, "You're lucky those were only sprites. Anyone more powerful and the both of us would be dead."
"What did you say to them?"
"Why can't you just trust me?" Chris asked helplessly.
Leo glared at him stonily, silent.
Chris shrugged, "I greeted them and after they told me their information I thanked them for their time and they left. That's it. They trust you way more and are way more open about what they know if they think you're one of them, especially if you speak the same language as them. It's the same with humans – you live in Germany and start speaking German, they probably won't guess you aren't German unless you have a shitty accent. Same with demons."
"And why don't you have an accent, Krynik?" Leo replied, practically vomiting acid.
Chris rolled his eyes, "I've been speaking Eredun since I was at least," Leo supplied mentally ages varying from birth to five years of age and raised a suspicious brow as Chris finished his statement with a shrug-accented, "fourteen. At most, I was fifteen, give or take a few months."
"Who taught you?" Leo asked suspiciously and added in quickly, "And yes, if it pleases you, this is an impromptu interrogation."
Chris shrugged, "A bunch of demons participated. A phrase here, a word there – you pick things up when you work with the Underworld's finest on a daily basis. Javid and I, I guess, were able to get a few edge-wise demons to give us lessons, and eventually Wyatt ordered Zoras to teach us." His mouth curled around the demon's name in an angry grimace.
Leo crossed his arms, "I thought Zoras killed your mother."
"He did," Chris nodded, "Wyatt played with Zoras for three months before breaking him into a little lapdog that did as he was told. Zoras couldn't even torture anyone after that," he gave a bitter smile, "It would have been kinder to kill him. It was only a year or so after I left that Zoras was able to do more than provide information and teach Eredun. He was too volatile for ambassadorial work and he was too broken to torture information from the Rebels, but he was too powerful to be exposed to the front lines, too. If he went to battle and the Resistance took him? He'd have turned at the drop of a hat and exposed thousands of our secrets. He was too broken not to."
Leo didn't believe him, but he couldn't call him out on it, "So why was Zoras attacking Piper in the past?"
Chris shrugged, crossing his arms, "I honestly don't know. To hazard a guess, Wyatt sent him on a suicide mission to see whether or not I had been erased from history. The one who attacked Piper seemed a bit out of the loop. When I left for the past to save Paige from the Titans, everyone seemed to generally know I had turned on Lord Wyatt, except for him."
"And why is that? Why didn't Wyatt know you were a turncoat?"
Chris gave a long-suffering sigh, "He probably couldn't accept that I, of all people, was the one to betray him."
"And why was that?" Leo replied, struggling to keep the inherent disbelief from his voice. Chris was obviously lying; he was obviously hiding something. Besides, if Chris was willing to be questioned, that meant he was prepared for such a questioning and had prepared every answer to every possible question, which called any statement of his into question for accuracy and viability.
"Because 'why would Lord Christopher betray Lord Wyatt?' was on the tip of the tongue of every enemy of Wyatt, on every Resistance leader, even on Paige's lips, rest her soul," Chris replied.
Leo visibly flinched back, hearing 'Lord Christopher' and 'Lord Wyatt' bounce around in his skull and raise several horrifying pictures of his son kissing another man, ruling alongside another man, relying on another man at his back, in his bed, next to him every day and every night. Then he realised – Chris had ruled alongside Wyatt? Chris had been an evil overlord like Wyatt! Not just a vapid, brain-washed follower, a leader! Leo was right! Chris was Evil, and he had twisted Wyatt and damned him.
Chris had continued speaking, face reddening as frost climbed up the walls and the stalactites of the ceiling cracked, "Melinda wasn't titled – everyone could expect her to betray her brother. Even Kat, Pam or Parker were expected. They weren't titled, they were just lowly generals. Why would I, of all people, betray Wyatt? What could I possibly gain by leaving his side, of leaving his so-called utopia? I'll tell you what I gained, Leo, I'll tell you. I gained freedom – permanent, never-ending freedom. I could take off the masks, I could be myself, I didn't have to censor myself or play a part, I didn't have to look in the mirror and wonder who was looking back, I was finally free. People looked at Wyatt and me and were jealous – after all, we had it better than everyone else. We had a mansion, mortals fawning over us, enough food to eat, demons at our beck and call, and absolute power. People didn't know how I could hear the prisoners screaming all night, how you had to smile at your friends and then wonder which one would knife you in the night. People didn't know how you'd get so close to some people and then Wyatt would kill them to keep you in line – he'd do it on purpose! Hey, Chris? I saw you having tea for over an hour with that nice Valkyrie I assigned to protect you. Oh? Anna? My tea was poisoned today, but thankfully Valkyrie Anna was there to test it for me, otherwise you'd have to bury me instead of her – she was just another Valkyrie, Christopher, don't get so upset!" The last word was punctuated by a rather large stalactite falling and crumbling into thousands of pieces next to him and Chris didn't even flinch.
Chris nodded, staring into Leo's blue eyes, so much purer than Wyatt's hazel pair, "So I left Wyatt. I let him think I was dead. I let him tear the world apart. I let him fall into darkness. I let that happen – we all did, and now this is only way I can fix that, this is the only way I can repent for the things I've done. I let so many people die, I let so many people suffer – I killed people, I tortured people, I did thousands of things I will never be proud of, and if I can save Wyatt, if I can stop him from taking the world, then none of that will have happened. You can follow me all you want, you can threaten me, you can distrust me, you can call me vile and disgusting and thousands of horrible names! You think I haven't been hated before? I have! By millions, and I'm okay with that, I understand that, but you keep trying to impede my mission, and for what? Because you hate me? Because you don't trust me? Because I apparently ruined your marriage? Well, I'm sorry, Leo. I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for not being good enough for you, for not being strong enough to stand against Wyatt immediately, I'm sorry for splitting in half when everyone I loved turned against each other! I'm sorry I killed you! I'm sorry for everything.
"You can act all high and mighty, if you want. If you want to keep hanging onto the fact I sent you to Valhalla, if you want to hate me for my entire life, if you want me to die – that's all okay, that's understandable, I get that. But can't we," Chris stopped suddenly feeling a horrific heat across his cheek and he reddened as it froze on his face, and felt hysteria rise in him, "can't we get along long enough to save everyone else? We both love Wyatt, so why can't we just save him and go from there? Why can't you just trust me for once in your fucking life – for Wyatt's sake?"
And with that, Chris disappeared in a thousand of blue and white lights.
Leo was left staring after him, before completely disregarding all of what Chris just asked him. You want me to play nice for Wyatt? Not a chance, lying warlock. That's my son at stake – you aren't family. You aren't anything but a nasty, evil, gay, home wrecking liar.
…
Piper was approximately three months pregnant and was reading some trashy romance novel as Wyatt slept when Chris suddenly orbed in front of her. He was facing away from her and didn't seem to notice her presence as he approached the crib and stared at Wyatt. She saw his hand go up to his face and she heard a sound that she might identify as a sniffle on anyone else, but as this was Chris and he was generally only a three-setting man with those settings being apathetic, annoyed and/or pissed. A sniffle did not appropriate any other setting and she was not Phoebe and was not able to identify what exactly she had just heard.
She might have asked him if this wasn't an opportunity to observe Chris when he believed he was alone.
"It's the anniversary, Wy," Chris whispered softly.
She blinked and was practically biting off her tongue so she didn't ruin the observation. Romance novels? This was real drama. Her son and his beau? Their anniversary, perhaps?
"You wouldn't care," Chris murmured, "You'd call me pathetic and to get over myself," he made his tone honeying and slightly huskier because he was whispering and you can't get much higher and remain quiet, "you'd say, 'Pardon me, Christopher, but when did you turn into such a female? Honestly, you are showing weakness and it makes us both look horrible. Get over yourself.'"
Chris nodded at the sleeping baby, "Everything happened on this day, Wy. Our official rise to power, the day I left you, Melinda's death – it all happened today. What is it about this day, Wy? Why is it cursed for us? I'd bet you'd say something like 'Well, Christopher, it's your fate, it's my fate, it's our destiny,' and I'd give you a derisive look and say, 'You know I don't believe in fate or destiny,'" He paused when baby Wyatt snuffled and turned over and his voice grew softer, "Mel died today, Wy, and I can't do anything. Leo is following me around and never trusts me even though he said he did. He's trying to get us both killed and if Leo dies now, what'll happen to us? Huh? What good is it to follow me around when I'm trying to save you?
"Our Leo would have known better. Everyone in the past is so different – well, Paige is the same if she's a bit young. I guess we both know who Kat and Tammy got their looks from, eh? And Phoebe? She's so out there! It's amazing to think that our Phoebe used to be like that – all over the place, boy crazy, writing an advice column. And Mom? I see her every day and it's getting so hard to differentiate my mom and this…. Piper is so strong and confident and she bullied Leo into staying around here somehow – if only she could do that where we came from, eh? Maybe we would have ended up some place different and I wouldn't have killed him for you," Chris chuckled softly and Piper thought to herself that this situation was so surreal as Chris continued to have this one-sided conversation with his future lover, "Piper was probably always that strong and Leo just devolved into some…."
Chris paused, straightening his shoulders and then she heard a tone she'd never had before from Chris: cooing. He cooed, "Hey, Wy? Did mean Chris accidentally wake you up? Chris is sorry, I promise." He reached down and Piper's eyes widened, because there was no way to hide the fact she was watching them interact. She was practically eavesdropping on a private moment between them! He picked up the little blond with a grin and Wyatt looked over his shoulder as Chris bounced him on his hip. Wyatt smiled slightly and whispered, "Ma."
"Ma?" Chris remarked with a grin clearly in his voice, "I bet I can go find her for you, but she might yell at me for waking up the baby. That wouldn't have changed – I just wanted to see what Mel looked like without all the swaddling, and she never let me live it down, I swear – " he turned and saw Piper sitting there in the rocking chair. His grin died in its tracks and he lowered Wyatt to the floor, setting him on his tiny feet and he asked quietly, "How long have you been sitting there?"
She pushed herself to her feet, and said calmly, "Since you orbed in," and she gave him a smile and said, "I take it I won't get to know who Mel is?"
Chris gave her a deer-in-headlights look and orbed away. Wyatt looked at the ceiling and then at his mother, "Ma?"
"Yeah, Wyatt?"
"Kwis?" he asked, pointing at the ceiling.
"Yeah, mean Mommy accidently made Chris leave."
"Kwis?" he persisted, "Kwis? Kwis?"
Piper rolled her eyes and called to the ceiling, "Chris, Wyatt wants you. I know you can hear me so don't make a baby sad after you woke him up from his nap!"
With that, she walked out of the room and Wyatt flumped down on his bum. Still calling at the ceiling, he picked up his blue car and holding it up at the ceiling, "Kwis? Kwis cah?"
She heard the tell-tale orbing and smiled to herself as she walked away.
…
"This will make the secrets come out?" he asked again, gesturing to the potion stewing, "This will rip all the secrets from him?"
"Yes," the crone replied, hissing, "Your whitelighter halfbreed will have secrets no more."
"And will that give me what I seek?" Leo asked, "That will make him leave this time and leave my son alone both now and in the future? This will destroy their relationship?"
The crone cackled and said haggardly, stirring with vicious movements of her crooked and gnarled wrists, "This will give you the truth you seek and has the most chance of destroying him eternally. If this does not force him away, nothing but death will."
And with that, Leo smiled softly, feeling relief for the first time in months.
…
"Chris, so help me, you will eat dinner with us!" Piper shouted.
"I am in the middle of a very precarious investigation into the dealing of the – "
She blew up the vase next to him and he glared at her. She raised her hands warningly and said, "If you have enough time to spend three hours playing with Wyatt and cleaning the attic you so have enough time to eat one measly meal with us."
He sighed harshly and shrugged, "One meal, we wine and dine and I leave, you got me?"
"I got you," she snarled, "I got you so badly I'm going to," she closed her mouth and gave a muffled screaming sound.
He gave her a half-hearted glare and asked quietly, "Do you need help cooking?"
"Do I ever need help cooking?!" she shouted at him, walking out.
Phoebe walked in though the other entrance and whispered, "Don't be too hard on her – the baby is making her hormonal."
Chris nodded, crossed his arms and sat down with a heavy sigh. Phoebe sat across from him and gave him an expectant smile. He raised a brow at her and his leg started jittering. She waited a solid moment in silence before breaking it, "So…."
He looked up at her, propped an elbow on his knee and put his head in his upraised hand and replied, imitating her, "So…?"
"Do I marry Jason?" she broke out.
"You know very well that I can't tell you whether or not you did."
She frowned and pouted, "When we travelled back in time to save baby Melinda Warren…."
He raised his brow again and said, "Is this about the apple peel forming a 'C' as the first letter of the man you would marry?"
"It was the first letter of my true love," she corrected him and then she blinked, "How did you know that?"
He rolled his eyes, "What part of 'you guys are in history books' do you not understand? Plus, Paige told me all of your stories. I know everything about you guys – another reason why I was the prime time-traveller to come back."
"Paige wasn't around for that story," Phoebe protested, "That was before, when Prue was here."
"I know," he nodded, "Paige ended up the resident witchery expert whereas you became Super Mom and Piper became a chef. Paige ended up teaching – "
"Yeah, she ends up teaching at Magic School," Phoebe grinned, "I knew that."
"You did?" he asked dumbly, raised eyebrows and widened green eyes.
She nodded happily, "Just like I knew I'd be pregnant when Piper's sons were kids, maybe when the younger one was five or six and Wyatt was seven or eight."
Chris nodded, "That sounds right."
She waited patiently before breaking again, "That's all I get?"
He blinked at her curiously.
"You tell Paige about her kids and her husband, you tell Piper about Wyatt – why don't I get more about my family?"
He flushed, and replied defensively, "Sorry, Phoebe, if you were meant to know about the future, you'd have a vision about it."
She keened and pouted, "Please? Can't I get their names or something?"
Piper called from the kitchen, "Dinner's ready!"
Chris stood and said finally, biting back so many horrible words he could have said to her, before resting on an acidic, "No, you don't marry Jason."
And with that, he stalked his way to the table.
…
"I just have to dip a mirror in the potion and break it on the floor at Chris' feet, and that should reveal his secrets and make him leave?"
The crone cackled and said, "Yes, wise one, your halfbreed will flee if he does not have a heart of pure ice and stone. There is no way my spells can fail."
"Thank you," he grinned at her and she handed him the large powder horn that sloshed with the heavy sludge. Leo took the leather strap willingly and gave her a grateful smile, "Thank you so much, Kate. You have no idea how much good this will do."
She gave him a toothy grin and revealed the rotten mess of her mouth, the black and yellow repugnant marbles of her grimace that might have been teeth once. She left her gnarled arm outstretched, fingers curved horrifically this way and that with age and arthritis and she crooked her finger bones eagerly as he handed her the sack of foetal hearts and the jug of virgin's blood. She grinned at him and nodded, "Come again!"
And with that, the wayward Elder disappeared in orbs, cradled the ancient powder horn to his chest, as if it was the answer to all of his prayers.
Behind a cavern wall, a tall figure in all black, a dark trenchcoat and trousers outfit to be specific, stepped out and came up behind the hunched-backed crone. His slicked back black hair and goatee remained unchanged around his curved smirk. He raised an athame and brandished it lightly, caressing its handle like most would a lover, and said, "Is it done?"
The crone did not respond. He grinned. She bent to set down the leather sack and plastic jug. She fluffed her robe collar, ran a gnarled hand through white tangled hair and sighed loudly.
He went to raise the blade against her and she replied quietly, "I gave him what he desired."
"And what was his desire?"
"To see the truth," she replied simply, running a haggard hand along the edge of the pewter cauldron, her blind, milky blue left eye and fading brown right eye roving over her jarred eyes and pickled specimens, over a simple veiled photograph of her daughter, the Mother, and her granddaughter, the Maiden. She was the Crone of their coven, and yet she was the only one left, and she would take the family secrets to her grave. This demon wanted to play? He wanted her to set traps? To leave the Twice-Blessed Childe defenceless to evil?
This demon knew nothing. She had seen the waves of time, she had walked alongside Neena, and the All, and she had balanced the Graeae and the Fates, she had seen Medusa and blessed Cassandra, she had spoken with the mortal who called himself Mercury and fancied himself a god, and she had spoken with the mortal who called himself Jupiter and fancied himself the supreme being. She had met true Angels not just whitelighters that liked to think that orbing had anything on real wings. She had met true Evil. She had blessed Sources, both of Evil and of Good. She had given birth to a woman called Mother by Wiccans, and the Mother gave birth to a child called Maiden by the believers. She wore black, the Mother red, and the Maiden white. She mourned then for the future and for what she could not foresee.
She mourned for the Valkyrie who trained their warriors, for the mortal who fancied himself to be Thor considering his end at the hands of the mortal who fancied himself Loki, for the chariots that pretended to burn in the sky, for the believers and for the atheists, for the little blond boy who thought he could reign supreme, and for the quiet attentive sibling that trotted along at his side, for the other universes, for the other futures, and the thought of a story she used to tell the Mother back when she could have been called Maiden. She had told her of a prophecy of a nameless, faceless child who could bypass fate and mould time and space at will if he would only try.
"Nameless and faceless?" the child Mother had remarked tiredly, before the younger Crone had put her to bed, "How does the child survive?"
"By sheer force of will and a bucket full of luck."
"Then the fortuned Tyche should not reward him or her such. Why should a child be blessed with luck but no face?"
"Because if such a child were to have a face, that would mean they would be seen and thus they would be stopped. Besides, you know well that not all luck is good and that wishing someone Tyche's tender touches is not a kindly fate. The child's true gift is deception – not even a mirror could truly reveal his or her secrets. Now sleep, young Selene, or you'll never be awake to meet your fate either."
"But Hekate," she protested tiredly, yawning.
The Crone shook her head, "Sleep, childe, and one day you will be rewarded with a great strength and strong children."
"Why must I have children?"
"Because that is your fate, Selene," the Crone whispered to her sleeping face, "You are bound to be a Mother and I am bound to be a Crone, and one day, your child will be the Maiden. There is power and stability in threes, childe, and I promise you, that no stability will change because of this. We will grow strong and wax with our power, and we will revitalise the world time and time again, for both men and women."
And now, the Mother and the Maiden were long since dust on the wind, and she too would join them. And Hekate joined her daughter and her granddaughter shortly soon after. The nameless child had come and her visions clouded, but she realised finally, that the Fates were probably dead too.
She felt an intense burning at the base of her spine and she suddenly asked mentally of the nameless child, though she was screaming too much to form words aloud:
Were you the one to kill my daughter, Master Nameless? Or was that the mortals, too?
…
They were sitting down to eat dinner and it was lasagne – which was one of Chris' favourite foods before Wyatt's takeover. After Wyatt's takeover, when he finally joined the rebels completely, he rather enjoyed canned clam chowder. There was nothing else like it and it was very rare to find an edible one. Piper was giving him a hopeful look, Phoebe looked disturbed over what he told her, and Paige was Paige.
He took a bite and felt bile at the back of his throat – or was that just the bitter surge of grief, rough and unfettered, that was bleeding within him? No, he probably just felt sick. For some reason. It wasn't as if he was perpetually freezing or anything and couldn't get a simple influenza by trailing around the very cold, completely sanitised depths of the Underworld. After he felt the bile recede, he could taste the spices, at the perfect proportioning of the cheese, pasta and sauce, at the organic tomatoes and mozzarella.
It tasted like tears and the horrible acidity of hope.
It was disgusting.
It was wonderful.
"Chris?" Piper asked quietly, her face falling from its hopeful smile to worry.
He raised a shaking hand to his eyes and was surprised to find it was raining inside somehow and he was the only one to have the raindrops on his face, "It's very good, Piper," he told her stiltedly, "Please excuse me."
He stood and quickly made it upstairs to the bathroom. He closed the door, locked it and warded it quietly before pressing his back to the door and sliding down to the floor. Wyatt would have hit him if he had done that at dinner. Of course, Wyatt knew better than to order the servants to make lasagne and serve it at his Halliwell-imitated table under that Halliwell-imitated chandelier. Here he was, in the past, crying like a fucking child because of some pasta and a reunited family. There was the china, the silver, the white tablecloth, and he remembered Wyatt sitting at the head of the not-Halliwell table and pointing to chairs, recounting names and stories, and tossing back drink after drink and recounting how he killed him or her, or how she or he died, or how Chris had done so and so to him or her.
"Oh Wyatt," he whispered, seconds after he felt the tears stop and his lids start to burn and crust with the remaining excess of the salty liquid, "Why am I doing this? What for? I'm not closer to saving you than to saving Mom. I wish…." He trailed off uneasily, feeling a chill trill down his spine and a shudder overtake his shoulders and without his command, his latent evil power leeched out and the door started to ice over behind him. He stood slightly and peered in the mirror that was quickly frosting over. He stared into his bright green eyes and the red lids and bloodshot sclera and he whispered quietly, "What's going on? What's happened?"
He telekinetically unlocked and swung open the bathroom door and peered into the hallway. He reached out with his whitelighter half and searched for Wyatt first and foremost. He was still at the table downstairs. He searched out for Piper and Phoebe and Paige and all were at the table. Begrudgingly, he searched for Leo, since he was a blood family member and family members could feel each other.
…Where was Leo? Whitelighters couldn't sense a charge – or a family member – if they were A. dead or B. in the Underworld. What was an Elder doing in the Underworld? Was Leo the rumoured Elder making deals about Wyatt? That didn't make sense – as much as he despised Chris and ignored Melinda growing up, he had doted on Wyatt. He would never search for ways to kill Wyatt.
Or was he trying to kill Chris?
Or were there two Elders in the Underworld, making connections and paying for poisons? Making waves in the Darker half of Magic? Trying to tip the scales?
All of those theories seemed farfetched, but he felt the dread curling in his stomach and he immediately orbed down to Wyatt's side. He picked him up and pulled him from the chair. Piper stood and said something, but he was ignoring her. Phoebe shouted something at him and Paige was staring at him in surprise. He raised a finger and shushed them, eyes wide and blazing, ears listening as hard as he could for the telltale witch hunters or Wyatt's White Warriors, or even other Rebels. He listened for the whirl of the attic portal and for the screeching of the Nexus.
He searched for Leo.
Leo had found them. He was standing before him and he was holding a mirror clutched to his chest. He was saying something but all Chris could hear was the blood rushing in his ears and turned, arms tight around Wyatt and went to escape – but from what? – and he heard the horrifying whoosh and then thousands of icicles shattering against the hardwood of Halliwell Manor.
Or was that the glass iced methane sheen of the mirror shattering at his feet?
He looked back wildly as thousands of coalescing colours, the seven of the human's visible spectrum, and seventeen more that did not exist on Earth, all coming together and swallowing them all whole. He clutched Wyatt, and the future, tightly and felt the blessed black/white/grey of unconsciousness take him into the deeps. He could hear Piper screaming, Phoebe shouting, Paige cursing, Leo calling out, and Wyatt cry. He heard himself roaring for Wyatt. He felt Wyatt clutch him close, tiny pudgy arms tight around him, bowlegs curled around his hips, fat child fingers tight in his hair, short blond locks hitting his face, and he felt the innate fear of the child leech into him and they were lost.
…
An ornate mirror is perched on the table and a demon shimmered in. He searched the house for an abandoned Twice-Blessed Childe, but did not find him. He turned back to the mirror, looked at it in confusion briefly and cursed as he realised the crone Hekate had tricked them all. The Twice-Blessed Childe was missing, the Charmed Ones had vanished, an Elder had fell off the face of the Earth, and Lord Christopher had long since disappeared. And Hekate was dead.
Chapter End.