A/N: I'm not sure why, but this chapter was really hard to write. I'm still not satisfied with it, but I think it's as good as it's going to get and it's time to share it with the world. I should warn you that there is some swearing later on, so please look away now if you're likely to be offended by this.
Chapter Seven: Wyatt
Wyatt stared at the familiar face of his little brother and forgot how to breathe.
He'd spent a lot of time thinking about how this evening might go. Planning what he was going to say, how he was going to act. What he'd do if they somehow saw through his disguise.
Never once, not even for a second, had he wondered if he'd meet Chris here. Yet here his brother was, standing in Tash's entrance hall, hands in his pockets and a slouch in his shoulders. A few feet away and yet miles apart.
Story of their life.
He looked older, that was Wyatt's first thought. Older and somehow more relaxed, more confident, more at ease with himself than Wyatt had ever seen him. It was a far cry from the traumatised, terrified brother of his memories and Wyatt found it difficult to reconcile the two. Had Chris really changed that much in such a short space of time?
Wyatt wasn't alone in his scrutiny. As Lin and Erica continued their awkward, forced introductions, Chris stared right back at him, a frown between his eyes. For one endless moment Wyatt feared his brother was going to out him, right there in the middle of a clan of hostile witches, but the girl beside Chris distracted him with a murmured comment. Whatever she said brought a flash of a smile to Chris's face and Wyatt was quickly forgotten.
They moved from the entrance hall into a large sitting room, with a couch and wide flat-screen TV at one end and a dining table and set of chairs looking out across the garden at the other. The table was set out with shiny white china, and almost groaning under the weight of the vast platters of food.
"You didn't have to go to all this trouble," Lin commented.
"Oh, it's no trouble," Erica lied airily through her teeth. "Only the best for the illustrious matriarch of our family."
They exchanged thinly veiled looks, like two lionesses circling a wounded antelope. The byplay between them was oddly fascinating. Lin was proving to be more than a match for Erica and it was difficult to tell who was going to win this battle of wills.
"Won't you sit down?" Erica drew out a chair at the head of the table and Lin slipped into it. As everyone went to follow, she caught hold of her daughter's arm. "Natasha, you'll sit here, between me and Matthew."
It was at the opposite end of the table; as far away from Lin as possible. If Erica was trying for subtle then she was failing, badly.
Tash rolled her eyes at her mom's transparent behaviour and defiantly took a place next to Lin. Erica's mouth drew into a tight line, but instead of objecting she thrust Wyatt into the chair beside her daughter. By the time he'd regained his composure, the rest of the table was settled and he found himself face to face with the one member of the party he'd been purposefully avoiding: the one who'd been introduced as Lin's daughter. The one who'd stolen his brother away from them and was still standing between them.
Bianca.
She was pretty; very pretty. Huge dark eyes, olive skin and the kind of body women and men alike dreamed about. But under all that was a Phoenix witch. A dangerous assassin, who practiced manipulation and murder on a daily basis. Chris couldn't know the truth. If he knew then there's no way he'd be sitting beside her, trading lingering looks and whispered comments that were hinting at something Wyatt didn't want to think about.
Maybe she'd cast a spell on him. The more Wyatt thought about it, the more he warmed to the idea. Why else would Chris still be hanging around with the Phoenix witches? It would have to be a powerful one to work on the son of a Charmed One, but it had been done to their family before. The Phoenix obviously had strong magic of their own that Wyatt would have to watch out for.
After Erica had said grace, she invited them all to start eating. The food was good – not quite up to Mom's standard, but tasty enough that Wyatt found himself happily tucking in. At first conversation was sparse, but as the plates began to clear, Lin took the opportunity to begin laying her groundwork.
"So, Matthew," Lin began pleasantly, "how do you and Natasha know each other?"
Wyatt busied himself with chewing while he tried to remember the answer. It was one of the first facts Tash has ordered him to learn.
"School," he said once he'd swallowed. "We got paired up together in class."
"He let me copy his homework," Tash threw in nonchalantly. "I let him be my friend in return."
"Natasha!" Erica hissed.
"What? It's true, right Matt?"
Wyatt nodded. From what Tash had told him, it really was. "Pretty much."
"It's hardly appropriate table conversation," Erica cut in, glaring at her daughter.
Tash gave an exaggerated sigh. "Oh relax, Mom. I haven't copied Matt's home work in months now. Not since I got moved next to Adam Bainbright – he is seriously clever. Like, a total future valedictorian."
Lin chuckled over Erica's sounds of outrage. "You know, you remind me of Bianca when she was your age."
"Did she get boys to do her homework too?" Tash wanted to know.
"Like I needed to do that," Bianca scoffed, popping a sliver of carrot into her mouth.
"Well yeah, I guess you had other methods of getting through." Tash twirled her fork around in the air. "Wish we were all that gifted."
Bianca's smile didn't meet her eyes. "I didn't need to do that either, kid."
"Girls, please. This isn't a competition," Lin interjected. "Try and keep things civil." When they'd both subsided, she took a few more mouthfuls of food before casually saying, "I'm sure you have your own gifts, Natasha."
Tash snorted. "Not that you'd know. Someone won't let me use them."
Lin put her cutlery down and took a sip of the white wine Erica had poured earlier. "And if you could change that?"
"Would anyone like any more potatoes?" Erica interrupted loudly. "Matthew?"
"Um, no. I'm good, thanks." Wyatt ducked his head to avoid being brained by the dish she was thrusting at him. Erica returned to her seat, smoothing down her dress, and struck up an awkward conversation with Bianca to fill the sudden silence.
The next half an hour of the meal played out in that same fashion, over and over again, with Lin subtly raising the subject of Tash's untrained powers, only for Erica to jump in with the distraction of Matthew the Mortal. By the time desert had been served and Erica had risen to clear away the dishes, Wyatt felt like he'd run a marathon.
A sharp elbow digging into his ribs reminded Wyatt that he had a promise to keep before the night was through. No time like the present, he thought, rising and collecting his plate and glass. He carried it through to the kitchen, where Erica was putting crockery in the dishwasher with an unnecessary amount of banging and crashing.
"Is everything alright, Mrs Messario?" he asked politely, adding his own load to the dishwasher.
"What? Oh, yes, everything's fine, thank you Matthew."
Wyatt began to help her load the remaining dirty plates and bowls into the dishwasher, playing for time. He didn't have to wait long; Erica was obviously so desperate to vent about her cousin that she'd even take Tash's unsuitable boyfriend as her sounding board. Complaints and protests spilled out of her, happy to be released, and Wyatt suddenly found himself privy to all manner of random information about the Phoenix family and their leader. Before today he'd have been hanging on her every word, hoping for anything that would lead him to his brother, but now Chris was here… well, everything had changed. Wyatt wasn't sure what he was going to do about that yet, but he did know he couldn't just let the chance he'd been given slip through his fingers.
When he found himself alone with Chris in the kitchen some time later, the pair of them having been given the task of choosing any food they wanted to take home in doggy bags, he saw the opportunity he'd been waiting for.
"You got a sec?"
Chris put the half-empty plate of cold meat he'd been examining down on the countertop. He looked around and when he saw that no one else was in the room, realised Wyatt was talking to him. "Uh, yeah. I guess. What –"
"Not here."
Wyatt opened the back door and led the way out into the backyard, expecting Chris to follow. It was large, leafy and green – more like Aunt Phoebe's than Mom's – and Wyatt kept walking down the gravel path until he was sure they were out of sight of the house.
"Okay, we only just met so this is getting weird," Chris announced, coming to a stop behind him. "What do you want?"
Wyatt double-checked their surroundings to make sure no one was going to interrupt them and then took a moment to prepare himself. "I need to show you something. Just… don't freak out, okay?"
"Really not the best thing to say to someone when you don't want them to –"
Wyatt dropped the glamour. Chris swore and stumbled backwards, hands coming up defensively and then falling again when he recognised his brother.
"Wyatt?" he said haltingly.
They'd never been particularly close as brothers. The magic and the surname were about all they shared and finding common ground had sometimes seemed impossible. But all of the time and distant that had built up between them just evaporated in the sheer rush of relief that Wyatt felt at having his little brother alive and well before him. He didn't think twice about tugging Chris into a rough embrace.
"God it's good to see you," he muttered.
Chris was trembling in his arms, but he didn't pull back like Wyatt expected. "You're okay," his brother whispered, over and over. "You're okay."
It took Wyatt a while to work out what Chris meant, but then he remembered the last time they'd seen each other, how things had been left. Chris, full of fury, his magic raging out of control. Him, burned and scarred by his brother's hand, lying on the floor, bleeding.
He hugged Chris tighter. "Aunt Paige healed me. You know I'm her favourite nephew."
It was a familiar joke and he heard Chris chuckle weakly. "It doesn't matter how many times you tell yourself that, it's still not true."
"Yeah, yeah." Wyatt ruffled his brother's dark hair and pulled back before things started to get uncomfortable. Chris ran a hand over his face and let all of his breath out in a rush. When he raised his head, his composure was back.
"So what are you doing here?" he asked, perching on a low stone wall that bordered a row of shrubs.
"Looking for you." Wyatt remained standing. With his disguise gone, he couldn't afford to let his guard down for a minute. "That's all I've been doing since you left. Didn't expect to find you here though."
"Why?"
"Well, this was just supposed to be a fact-finding mission. Get some more info on the Phoenix."
"No, I mean – why have you been looking for me?"
Wyatt shot him an incredulous look. "Are you kidding? Chris – you vanished in the middle of the night! We didn't know where you'd gone, how long you were going to be away, who you were with –"
"I needed to clear my head," Chris cut in, voice tight. "Get some distance."
"With a bunch of strangers?"
"I could hardly stay at home."
It was a good point, Wyatt had to admit. If he had been in Chris's position that night… well, he'd have been tempted to run too.
"I get it, I really do –" he began, then abruptly stopped. No, that was a total lie and worse, it was that patronising thing adults always did when they were trying to be 'understanding'. Wyatt paused and tried again. "I don't get it. I never will. But Chris, you've been away long enough and these people you're with… they're dangerous."
"What, because they're not my oh-so-caring family?"
There was an edge to Chris's voice that told Wyatt he needed to choose his next words carefully. "No… because they're assassin witches. I know, it sounds crazy, right? But they're in the Book, Chris – they've practically got their own chapter – and some of the stuff it says… it's not good. It's really not good, I'm sorry."
Wyatt braced himself for the inevitable explosion, the accusations and the denials, but Chris just sat there, head bowed, eyes on his scuffed shoes. The legs of his dark trousers were slightly too short as if they weren't his own.
"Did you hear what I said?" Wyatt asked finally.
"Sure." His brother sounded like they were discussing what they were having for dinner.
"And it doesn't bother you?" When Chris just shrugged, Wyatt almost laughed. "They're assassins, Chris. Assassins. As in, they kill people for a living!"
"I know, alright?" Chris surged up from the wall, forcing Wyatt back a step. "I know!"
Wyatt was stunned into silence. Chris knew about the Phoenix? He knew and he was still here, happily having dinner at one of their houses?
What the hell had happened to his brother.
"Lin told me everything," Chris continued in a quieter tone. "She was upfront about it too. Didn't lie, didn't try to hide, just told me the truth. Do you know how refreshing that was?"
"But – Chris, they kill people."
"So do the Charmed Ones. You wanna put them on trial too?"
Wyatt could barely believe what he was hearing. "How can you compare our family to theirs? That's – that's crazy. We vanquish evil to save innocents. The Phoenix –"
" – are neutral," Chris finished firmly, "and just doing a job."
Wyatt stared at him, reading the truth in the defiance of his stance and his stubborn expression. "You really believe what you're saying," he realised, heart sinking. "You're on their side."
"I'm on my side," Chris argued. "And so are they."
He sounded so sure. There was only one explanation for it.
"It's a spell," Wyatt murmured. "It has to be. They've cast some kind of spell on you and –"
"No." Chris cut him off with a wave of his hand. "This, here? This is all me. No spell. No coercion. I went with Bianca because I wanted to and I stayed because they've treated me better than my so-called family ever did."
"How can you say that?" Wyatt demanded. "Do you know what this is doing to mom and dad? It's tearing the family apart!"
"Yeah? Then why aren't they here, spouting off at me?"
Wyatt's frustration boiled over. "Because trying to find you has been like trying to break into Fort Knox! Scrying, spells – nothing worked, Chris. They've got you wrapped around their little finger."
"I'm here because I want to be," Chris shot back, face twisting into an ugly scowl. "No one's forcing me to stay."
"Then come home, please." Wyatt hadn't planned on begging, but if it would make Chris see what was really going on here then it was worth it. He came around to stand directly in front of his brother, forcing Chris to look at him. "Please, Chris. Everything's fallen apart. Mom and Dad barely talk, Mel's turned into a ghost and I – I have to fix it. We have to fix it and we can, so please just – just come home, okay? Come home."
Chris turned away, plucking a leaf from the branch of a nearby tree and shredding it. Presented with his back, Wyatt struggled to see what his brother was thinking.
"I can't," Chris said at length, watching the fragments of leaf spill through his fingers and scatter onto the ground. "Not now. Maybe not ever. Wyatt… I killed Warren, Jake and Austin. Maybe I had no control, maybe that couldn't have been avoided – I dunno. But I almost killed you and Mel too, and that definitely could have been avoided if you all hadn't insisted on treating me like some pathetic little kid. The Phoenix might not be perfect, but they were honest with me from the start and that – that's worth a lot to me."
"Enough that you'll give up on your family?"
"It's not giving up – it's being practical. Making an adult decision. Look." Chris held out one hand, palm up, fingers unfurled. As Wyatt watched, a ball of lightning blossomed into being, crackling and pulsing in the air. He studied his brother's face and while Chris was clearly concentrating hard, there was no pain there.
"This is what they've given me," Chris said quietly. "It's not perfect and I've still got a lot to learn, but I'm not dangerous anymore. I can get through a training session without hurting anyone."
And that was the moment when Wyatt realised that everything he'd done to get here had been a wasted effort. Spell or no spell, good reasons or bad reasons, Chris was choosing the Phoenix over his family.
Something inside of Wyatt broke.
"And where does the fact that you're panting after Bianca fit into this?" he demanded, disappointment and frustration sharpening his tongue to Chris-like proportions.
Chris flinched. "Fuck off, Wyatt."
"No, come on, you're all about the honesty, right? How much of this hard-on for the Phoenix is more of a hard-on for Bianca?"
"Bianca has nothing to do with this!" his brother growled, red spots standing out on his cheeks.
"Truth's inconvenient sometimes, isn't it?" Wyatt taunted, feeling a perverse sense of pleasure at the anger brimming in Chris's hazel eyes. "You can't pick and choose. Hmm… I guess Bianca's in the same boat when it comes to you. After all, can't be many other options in a clan of all-female witches –"
Chris lunged at him. Expecting the attack, Wyatt side-stepped and his brother went sprawling across the ground. Recovering quickly, Chris bounced up onto his toes, stands of grass in his dark hair, and went for Wyatt again. They grappled for a few moments until Wyatt's greater strength began to tell and he forced Chris back towards the low wall. In retaliation, Chris snaked his leg out and overbalanced them both. Wyatt hit the ground hard and rolled, coming up onto his knees and preparing to stand, only to find his brother matching him step for step, breathing hard.
"You don't know jack shit about Bianca and me," Chris ground out.
"Wake up, Chris! Do you really think they're helping you out of the goodness of their hearts? They're manipulating you and you can't even see it!"
"You wanna talk manipulation with me?" Chris laughed – an angry, jarring sound, totally devoid of humour. "How about how you all manipulated me, for months, into thinking I'd been in an accident. How about – how about how you manipulated me into trying to train a power that was so far out of control I'd already killed three people with it? How about –"
"Enough!" Wyatt shouted. "You've made your point."
"I haven't even started – " Chris stopped abruptly. He was studying his hand and as he raised it, Wyatt saw the lightning dancing over his fingertips.
Chris snapped his hand shut. "You should go." He brushed past Wyatt and began striding back towards the house.
"Chris –" Wyatt quickly replaced the glamour and hurried after him.
"I'm not coming home with you, end of."
"Okay, okay, but look, can we just talk? I think we –"
"We're done."
Wyatt caught hold of the sleeve of his ill-fitting jacket. "No, we're not."
"Let go."
"C'mon, just listen to me –"
"Wyatt, I don't want to hurt you."
The words, said so calmly, sent a chill down Wyatt's spine. There was something dark behind Chris's eyes, like a stranger was looking out of them, and Wyatt knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that his brother wasn't talking about accidental hurt anymore. He'd been right earlier. The Chris standing in front of him now was miles away from the Chris who'd left him in the attic. For all his talk of self-control, this Chris was far more dangerous.
"Everything okay out here?"
They both jumped. Bianca was framed in the doorway of the house, arms folded across her chest. If she'd seen anything or overheard their conversation, it was impossible to tell.
"Brilliant," Chris lied, ducking past her and disappearing inside. Wyatt made to follow, but Bianca thrust her arm across the gap, blocking him.
"I don't know who you are, or what you want with Chris," she whispered, their faces so close together that her hair tickled his cheek, "but here's some free advice. Back off."
So she'd seen enough to become suspicious then. Fine. He could deal with that.
Wyatt drew himself up. "I could say the same to you."
"You could… but then I already have him, don't I?"
She sashayed after Chris and Wyatt followed her progress, content to let her have her moment of triumph.
"For now," he murmured.
