Author's Note: Eek another long gap between chapters. I'm sorry. I know how frustrating it is to wait for a story to be updated.
I had an idea a couple of days ago. You know I was writing a story of Chris' history as well as him time in the past (season six of Charmed) because I was writing for people who haven't seen the series. Well I'm bored. I have written up to 'I dream of Phoebe' by hand and none of it on the computer yet. I hate writing things that aren't really mine and I have got tiered of writing something where I know where it is going. I think that I will leave the story finishing as Chris steps through the triquetra back in time and if my family like my story enough to want to know what happens next then I will tell them to watch the series. What do you guys think? Do you want me to carry on? I'd appreciate any feed back you have, especially as all of you (I hope) have seen the series and know what to expect anyway. Thank you.
Enjoy the chapter!
Chapter 11 – Betrayal
After that day, Chris and Bianca put their differences aside and slowly began to like and trust each other. Chris was glad of the company in his lonely existence at P3, and Bianca hadn't turned out to be as bad as he first thought, despite constantly pestering him to be let outside which he finally agreed to, knowing how horrible it was to be cooped up indoors all day.
Bianca was unable to shield herself from Wyatt's sensing power and although P3 gave her this automatic protection, outside its walls she was unaided and vulnerable, which she constantly denied being the proud person she was.
Chris was able to get her a job as an assistant in a computer manufacturing firm under the name of Tanya Perry which she was able to do from inside P3. Tanya was her mother's name, and Perry Chris' middle name which she had taken quite a fancy to.
Although it wasn't the most exciting job in the world, Bianca seemed happy to have something useful to do and turned out to be quite a wiz with the laptop the company had given her to use. Chris however was completely inexperienced with the machines, and frequently questioned her about them, but never found out anything more then that they were used to hold data.
Bianca found the whole affair rather amusing and Chris was sure that she wasn't telling him about them simply because she wanted to superior him in something. So he dropped the subject until one morning when inspiration hit him.
Chris walked into the main part of P3 where he was surprised to see Bianca already up and typing.
"Good morning," he yawned.
"Hi," she replied, looking up from her work briefly.
"What are you doing up so early?" he asked, coming over to sit next to her.
Bianca looked ready to shut the lid, but didn't have to because as soon as Chris sat down on the sofa it collapsed underneath them, sending them sprawling to the floor where they lay laughing amongst the wreckage, the laptop beside them, its screen quivering.
"Chris," Bianca groaned, sitting up. "That's the second one you've busted!"
Chris stood up before helping her to her feet too.
"I know," he grinned, not in the least bit perturbed. "I'm sorry."
Bianca picked up her computer, folded down the screen and stuck it under one arm.
"And why does it always have to be my bed?"
Chris smiled his reply and ran a hand through his tousled brown hair.
"I have to go out for a while," he said. "Do you need anything?"
Bianca had never asked him where he went when he told her he was going out. He guessed she probably already knew and understood that it wasn't a subject he would talk about with her.
"Would you be able to get a pair of hair scissors?" she asked.
Chris' eyes widened.
"No," he replied flatly.
"Oh Chris," Bianca whined. "I can see you're not planning to visit a hairdresser anytime soon, and if you don't watch out your hair will be longer than mine."
Chris raised an eyebrow. His hair was just long enough to tuck behind his ears, which he liked because it stayed out of his eyes. Bianca apparently had other ideas.
"Okay fine," he agreed regretfully. "I'll see you later."
"Bye," Bianca said.
Chris turned to the door before suddenly finding himself enlightened.
"Bianca?" he asked slowly.
Bianca, who had found herself another seat, looked up.
"Does Wyatt use computers?"
Bianca looked shocked by the question.
"No," she said. "At least I don't think he does. But with all that magical capability, why would he need computers?"
"I don't know," agreed Chris. "But the probes he uses. They're built using technology and they are reliable in storing data."
"Fairly," said Bianca, looking puzzled. "Would you mind explaining what this is about?"
"Not now," Chris replied hurriedly. "I've got to go." And he quickly rushed out the door.
Upon reaching the Resistance he looked rapidly around for Simon who was the most technologically advanced member of the Resistance, which was why Chris had put him in charge of the probe case.
"Hey Mike!" he greeted one of the few Whitelighters the Resistance had.
"Good morning Chris," Mike replied. "How are you today?"
"Hopefully very good," Chris replied.
"I see," Mike smiled. He had grown used to his leader's ways and knew that he was onto something important. "Can I help?"
"Yes," said Chris. "If you see Simon, tell him I'm looking for him."
"Already have," answered Mike. "He's eating breakfast in the canteen."
"Cool," thanked Chris, running off. "See you later!"
The canteen wasn't much of a canteen, but it did the job of catering for the Resistance. The two cooks, Alice and Georgia were witches slightly too old for all the dangerous missions the Resistance went on and had happily retired to their favourite pastime; in the kitchen. Chris had often spent time there helping them before he had become leader, when he had had to cut down on the hobby he loved, for a large, more challenging role.
"Chris!" exclaimed Georgia happily as he entered the room, waving at him from behind her hatch. "Long time no see. How are you my dear?
"Fine thank you," Chris replied, walking over to her. "And yourself?"
"Very well," Georgia smiled. "Terrible business about those probes though, isn't it?"
Chris nodded. "I'm working on it."
"I'm sure you are," she said. "Now what can I get you today?"
"Just a piece of toast please," said Chris.
Georgia looked at him sceptically.
"You look like you haven't had a decent meal in months. How about some waffles and bacon with that piece of toast?"
Chris sighed good-naturedly.
"Okay," he nodded and Georgia went off to prepare his food.
Chris leant on the counter so he could still see her as she worked and continued the conversation.
"So how's the old assassin doing back home?" she asked.
"Very well," said Chris. "She got a job last week. Gives her something to do at least."
"Poor girl, it's a shame she can't stay here."
Chris nodded. "I daren't risk it."
Georgia gave him a small laugh and passed him his plate.
"Once an assassin, always an assassin eh?"
"Something like that," Chris replied, taking it. "Thank you."
He turned to look for Simon, who he found sitting at a table with his younger sister Eleanor. Both were hunched over a large sheet of paper. He went over, towards them.
"Hey guys, mind if I join you?" he asked.
"Hi Chris," said Eleanor, who was slightly younger than him. "Sure no problem."
"I need to ask you something Simon," he said, taking a seat.
"Ask away," his friend replied.
Chris took a deep breath in order to calm himself.
"Do you think that Wyatt could be storing the blueprint on a computer?"
As soon as Chris left, Bianca reopened the laptop and minimised the spreadsheet she was working on, and opened a new window. Wyatt's face appeared on the screen.
"Well?" he said.
"I think Chris is onto us?" she replied, adjusting the built in microphone.
To her surprise this didn't seem to bother him.
"How come?" he asked. "Doesn't he trust you?"
Bianca shook her head.
"No he trusts me," she said softly. "And I trust him."
Wyatt gave a cold laugh, which was made even more menacing by the interference caused by the shield around P3.
"Don't tell me you're falling for my brother's charm," he said, unimpressed.
Bianca shrugged her shoulders.
"He's a good person," she said. "Which is more than I can say about you."
Wyatt laughed again.
"I would stop before you disintegrate," he said. "Has he taken you to the Resistance yet?"
Bianca shook her head.
"Well then he doesn't trust you," Wyatt stated.
"He knows I am an assassin," Bianca argued. "And assassins aren't known for their loyalty. He would never take me there."
"Then you have failed me."
"No," she interrupted quickly. "He trusts me. He doesn't judge people by their heritage. He gave me a job didn't he?"
"Chris knows nothing of technology. If he knew you could contact me using it he would have never allowed it," Wyatt told her triumphantly.
"He asked me if you used computers," Bianca said. "I think he has a pretty good idea what you're up to."
"Impossible," Wyatt said.
"Improbable," Bianca corrected. "He's going to stop you again, just because the twice blessed one underestimates his weak little brother."
Bianca felt an invisible force clutch her throat tightly. Wyatt was staring intimately at her.
"Pardon me?" he queried.
Bianca clamped a hand to her neck instinctively trying to ease the constriction, whilst using the other to snap the laptop screen shut. A few seconds later she found she could breathe again and fell back on the sofa, panting. Wyatt needed to look at her in order to continue and she had broken that eye contact. She sat up straight again, massaging her tingling throat and reopened the laptop.
The screen flickered on again to show the Dark Lord's face once more. She knew he wouldn't try to strangle her again. That had just been a warning. She knew from past experience that Wyatt could do much worse than kill, and besides, she was his best, most trusted assassin and he wouldn't throw her away in a hurry, as he had given her the miniscule leeway that gave her the confidence she possessed when addressing him.
"How long before you will be ready to bring him to me?" Wyatt asked expressionlessly.
"Sometime this week I'm sure," Bianca replied in the same toneless voice.
"Before he finds out too much?" asked Wyatt.
"That'll be up to you to decide," she replied.
"Meaning?" Wyatt snapped.
"Meaning he won't join you."
"Of course he will," replied Wyatt. "Because soon there'll be nothing left for him to choose between."
Bianca cocked her eyebrows, not following what he was trying to say, but Wyatt disappeared from the screen. She sighed, as for the first time in years she felt pangs of guilt stabbing at her stomach. She couldn't understand it. Why was she feeling like this? She had been brought up to ignore the uncomfortable sensation and slowly it had disappeared as she grew more used to her job; but now it was back again, worse than ever. She wasn't even killing her target, but she supposed that betraying him to the Dark Lord was as good as that, perhaps worse. She killed swiftly and almost painlessly; Wyatt was at the opposite extreme. The insane pleasure he got from slowly disembodying a human being made her skin crawl. Not even the most ruthless Phoenix could carry that out. The second time he had asked her to work for him, he had forced her to watch her grandmother be killed in this way upon her refusal, and her mother threatened with the same treatment. Scared for her mother's life, she was compelled to agree, but was sure to let him know of her fierce loathing of the tyrant.
She had expected his brother to be the same; self conceited and arrogant. But over the past five or so weeks she had known Chris she realised just how wrong she was. She liked Chris a lot. Her entire childhood was working against her. Maybe Wyatt was right, maybe she was getting emotionally attached to the boy. Phoenixes were never supposed to feel this way. In their line of work it would mean their destruction. They would never be as successful as they were if they did. They were even told to distance themselves away from their family in order to receive this status in magical society. The only time they were allowed to let another into their lives was when they need an heir. Phoenixes only gave birth to girls; and as soon as their child was conceived they would never see the father again, and he would never know he had a child.
Bianca drummed her fingers on the plastic lid thoughtfully. Somehow she'd block out his hurt betrayal. Like she always did. Maybe then she'd live to fight another day.
Chris ran a hand through his dark overgrown hair and leant back in his chair.
"So I'll get a placement in a computer centre, and then look into any signs of activity in the software which could indicate use by Wyatt," said Simon, confirming and summarising what the three of them had planned to do.
Chris nodded.
"He won't have access to all the city's computers though, will he?" Eleanor asked. "I mean, why would he want that?"
"He'll want to control and monitor all the information passed in and out of the city," explained Simon. "Chris is right. Maybe computers are a means to Wyatt's success. I should be off right now."
"Thank you," said Chris as Simon stood up.
"No problem," his friend replied.
"Remember to check for information on the blueprint," Chris continued.
"Of course."
"Oh and Si?"
Simon turned to face Chris.
"Be careful."
"No fear," smiled Simon. "See you later Ella."
"Wait!" shouted Eleanor as Simon walked away. "I'll help you get ready."
She ran after her brother, who shot Chris a mournful look over his shoulder, making Chris laugh.
Once they had left he collected up the plates that had been left on the table and headed over to the hatch with them.
"Thank you," said Georgia as he placed them on the counter top.
"See you tomorrow Georgia," Chris replied. "And tell Alice I said hello."
"Are you going home now?" Georgia asked.
"I have to do a few things first, but then, yes I will. There's something I have to check on."
"Or someone," Georgia added.
Chris smiled. "I'm being given my first annual haircut," he said shyly.
"Ah," Georgia exclaimed, ducking out of sight to search for something, before coming up with a white, slightly steaming, paper bag. "A woman after my own heart."
She held the bag out to him.
"Here are some things to take back with you. You hadn't come to see me in so long that I thought you might have starved to death."
"I'm sorry," Chris smiled, taking the bag. "Thank you very much."
"Will you come tomorrow?"
"I'll try," Chris replied. "If I have time."
Georgia raised her eyebrows warningly.
"Make time."
As soon as Chris stepped into P3 that evening he threw the scissors he had bought over to Bianca. She didn't even bother to catch them, but let the cardboard packaging fall into her lap where she sat on the sofa, and looked at them blankly for a second.
Worried at her vacuous expression, Chris briskly went to her side before she smiled and looked up at him.
"You got them," she said happily, although sounding surprised.
Chris nodded, carefully taking a seat next to her, so yet another moth eaten couch wouldn't disintegrate underneath them.
"And some dinner," he said, handing her the bag, which was now slightly tattered.
Bianca peered inside.
"Rice and Chile con carne," he explained, knowing that all she could see were two polystyrene boxes.
"Cold rice and Chile con carne," she corrected.
"Which I can fix," Chris said, taking the bag off of her. "Take this Chile and take this rice, and heat it up to make it nice," he repeated, making Bianca giggle.
"It doesn't matter how many times I hear you say that, she said. "But it's still got to be one of the most ridiculous spells I've ever heard."
"Hey, it works," Chris replied, handing her a steaming package.
"Thank you," she said gratefully, opening it and inhaling the delicious smell from inside.
"So how was your day?" she asked.
"Good," Chris answered, showing a forkful of meat and rice into his mouth. "Yours?"
Bianca shrugged. "Been better," she said.
"How do you mean?"
"It's boring," she said simply.
Chris sighed. "I know, I'm sorry. I don't know what else to do."
Bianca nodded understandingly. "I guess I have to pay for everything I've done in my life," she said. "In fact this is pretty good on my part."
"Is this where the violins start playing?" Chris asked, before receiving a sharp poke in the ribs.
"You know, you're in a decisively good mood for someone whose brother is the Source of all evil."
"Yes," replied Chris frowning. "And I have a feeling this is leading somewhere."
"It is," Bianca said shortly.
"Would you like to tell me where?" Chris asked when she didn't continue.
Bianca looked at him, her cheeks flushing in embarrassment before lowering her eyes to her supper.
"I was just wondering what Wyatt was like as a child," she said quietly, completely absorbed with mixing the rice and meat in her pot together.
"As a child?" Chris repeated.
Bianca laughed nervously. "I know it sounds stupid," she said. "But that's what helps you through every day isn't it? The promise of your big brother back."
"And I will get him back," Chris said firmly, in case Bianca was doubting him.
"Can you tell me?" she asked.
Chris sighed and rested his head on the back of the sofa. He had never shared any of his early life with anyone, not even his closest friends in the Resistance. He had never wanted to. Nobody would ever feel the same way about Wyatt as he did. They only knew him as the Dark Lord and the Source; the thing he had become, not the human he was. But was he ever? Had Wyatt ever been completely human; the person her was supposed to be? Maybe at birth. Those sweet seconds of innocence, the glimmer of hope the Earth had long anticipated.
He gazed at Bianca's eager face and broke the eye contact to eat another spoonful of rice.
"There's nothing special about him," he mumbled. "We just did everything together, because we were so different to our friends." He paused. "We used to play lots of magical games."
Bianca smiled. "Like what?"
"Orb-and-seek was a favourite when we were younger." Chris said. "But Wyatt was obliged to cheat because of his sensing powers."
"Good practise for now," Bianca said with a smile that quickly vanished from her face when she realised what she had said.
Chris looked down at his dinner again.
"I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I didn't think. That was stupid of me."
Chris smiled convincingly at her.
"I wish it was just a game," he replied. "Maybe to him it is. And we're all small insignificant pawns which he pushes around to his amusement."
He laughed humourlessly.
"It is just a game Bianca," he exclaimed with fierce realisation. "That's all it is. Just a game inside a game inside a game."
He saw Bianca shifting uncomfortably in her seat at his sudden change in attitude. But he didn't care.
"Don't you think it's just a game?" he asked her. "One big, sick, twisted game?"
The way she was looking him told him that she thought he had lost it. All that stress and pressure had finally got to him. Maybe it had. Even he wasn't sure anymore.
"No," Bianca stammered, making Chris raise an eyebrow. For an assassin, she was showing many signs of weakness. "We're in a war."
Chris laughed again. "We're in a war," he repeated, suddenly scaring himself at his resemblance to Wyatt. "Isn't a war a game too?"
"Chris," she said in a low voice. Her warning note drowned in uncertainty.
"What, it is isn't it?" Chris replied. "Until you realise you're going to die, it's one huge exhilarating game. Until you watch the ones you care about suffer and die at a pitiable cause. Until you realise that every damned thing you've ever done, has all been for nothing."
With a loud thud as his fist collided angrily with the sofa arm, Chris brought himself back to reality. He breathed slowly out to calm himself, and muttered an apology to his companion.
"I'm sorry," He faltered, feeling foolish. "I…"
Bianca nodded with a small, sad smile. She gingerly took his warm hand in her own trembling one.
"I know," she whispered. "But for what it's worth, I want you to know that I will always stick with you…"
She trailed off as she questioned herself, and Chris looked up at her, contemplating her statement.
"Really," he asked incredulously. "I'm not sure you're allowed to make that kind of decision."
"No," she replied. "But when I'm with you, I realise that I don't want to be that kind of person anymore. I watch how you so selflessly work to stop your brother from this evil in order to save everyone else, whilst I, being weak, have been working for him in order to stop you. Now I know that there is more to life then feeling safe. You showed me that."
Chris just stared at her for a moment, wondering what to say.
"Who said I don't benefit out of this?" he asked at length. I get my brother back. Imagine if you got the opportunity to raise your mother from the dead. It's like that. I have no family; they're all gone, but if I can save Wyatt then I have him back; I have my whole life back."
"I don't want my mother back," Bianca automatically replied. "She made me into this monster."
"You're not a monster,! Chris reassured her. "Not anymore."
"Aren't I?" She queried abruptly, standing up quickly, clearly about to burst. "I lied to you Chris. This is all a set up. Wyatt hired me to find your location and gain your trust so I could bring you back to him."
Chris felt his heart plummet to his stomach.
"What?" he whispered.
"I tricked you into offering me a place to stay," she said, before adding quietly adding. "I'm sorry."
Chris saw tears form in her eyes as her words sunk in. Bianca was still with Wyatt. Against him and against the Resistance. She had proved to him what he had begun to believe wasn't true, was.
He stood up too, pushing all the hurt behind a carefully composed mask of cool anger.
"I pose no threat to you anymore," she said, her voice quivering. "I don't want to hurt you."
"You don't mean that," Chris stated. "It was stupid of me to think you'd leave your line of work behind for a life of hiding away."
"You're wrong," Bianca interrupted, desperately trying not to cry, but failing miserably. "I was doing my job, which until now I thought I was very good at. But you changed me. You made me feel human. Able to realise what a mess I have allowed myself to become."
Chris opened his mouth to object, but Bianca continued, cutting him off.
"I don't know how you did it," she said, tears trickling steadily down her cheeks. "But look at me! I haven't cried since I was six years old, and now you've reduced me to a blubbering idiot. If you can tell me how you're doing this to me, I demand to know."
She paused for a reply, but none came. Chris continued to stare at her in a way he never thought he could stare at a person. The past month's memories surging around him as he tried to make sense of them.
"Won't you say anything?" she asked, shivering.
"What's there to say?" Chris replied, not shifting his eyes from the piercing, yet unfocused position they were unwilling to move from.
"Well," Bianca shook even more, despite her attempts to pull herself together. "Do you think it's possible that…maybe…love?"
"Get out!" Chris suddenly snarled, his eyes losing their glazed look.
He couldn't let Bianca continue. She had betrayed his trust and he had been gullible enough to believe her story, almost putting the Resistance at risk. Nothing was more important than the hundreds of people who relied on the organisation to survive and of the millions who would benefit from the small hope it brought. He wasn't going to risk anything else with Bianca. He would send her back to Wyatt empty handed.
Bianca took a hasty step backwards.
"I'm not going to take you to Wyatt," she said hurriedly.
"Get out!" Chris repeated slightly louder, causing the assassin to take another step towards the door.
"Why won't you kill me?" she asked desperately.
"GET OUT!" Chris roared, flinging the heavy door open with his telekinesis.
Bianca looked at him for what he hoped would be the last time, before running into the dark night outside.
Chris was just about to telekinetically close the door behind her, when he heard an audible crash and an uncomfortable yell. He ran to the doorway just in time to receive an eleven year old Rebecca ploughing into him with her power of super speed.
He spotted Bianca a few metres away, picking herself off the floor, but he had no concern to spend anymore time with her.
Rebecca was breathing heavily. More out of fear than exhaustion, which Chris instantly saw in her eyes as she pulled away from his cushioning.
"Chris," she cried hysterically. "Wyatt…Wyatt, he's found us. We're under attack!"
