FALSE MEMORIES
My first posted story here. Also my first Charmed Fanfic, although I have written fanfiction for other shows.
Disclaimer: The characters in Charmed do not belong to me. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.
Summary: Loved the Piper/Leo/Chris family dynamic in Season 6 so that's when this story is based. Set after Chris-Crossed and Prince Charming. Nobody knows who Chris is yet, but they're about to find out, courtesy of an unexpected visitor from the future…
Notes: Hiya! Quick update for you – I didn't want to keep you waiting too long after that nasty cliffhanger last time! Thanks for the fantastic response to the last part by the way – it was probably the most important one of the whole story, so I'm glad it rang true with so many readers. I don't want to give too much away about this chapter so I'm not going to say anymore. Just read on and let me know what you think…
OOOOOO
Chapter 36 – The End of an Era
The Halliwell Manor…
The Conservatory was empty, its surroundings frozen in time, a time that endlessly repeated itself as each generation of Halliwells came and went.
Moonlight streamed in through the windows, a cool, ethereal light that illuminated the room and its contents with an eerie, silvery glow. Scattered toys littered the floor, a half-drunk glass of lemonade stood abandoned on the sideboard, and a huge, ancient book lay open on the table to the left of the white wicker loveseat positioned under the window.
It was silent. None of the usual animated conversation, sparkling feminine laughter and childish cries echoed through the vacant rooms tonight. Outside, the air was still, the birds quiet. A hushed expectancy filled the house... waiting, hoping, waiting… for something, anything… a glimmer of hope in the midst of despair.
A faint tinkling sound broke the quiet tranquillity and a spiral of gold stars glittered in the still darkness. The warm, sparkling light gradually faded and a sheet of paper fluttered like a butterfly to the floor. Drifting under the table, it lay there unseen, forgotten... waiting, hoping, waiting… a shining beacon in a time of endless dark.
OOOOOO
In the Underworld…
"Chris!"
Leo was on his feet and running, stumbling over the rough ground in order to get to his stricken son. Reaching his target, he fell to his knees, pulled in his healing power and held out his hands over the boy's prostrated form. The instant the healing yellow glow touched Chris's flesh however, he jumped as if he'd been struck by lightening, and then began to convulse and jerk as if a thousand volts of electricity were surging through him. Leo quickly snatched his hands back, filled with sickened horror at what he'd inadvertently done.
"What are you doing? Why are you stopping? Heal him!"
Piper's voice was shrill and panic-stricken. Leo looked at her, his eyes dark with sudden fear. "I can't," he said. "It's making it worse."
His wife shook her head in wooden denial. "No," she insisted. "You have to heal him!"
"I think we should get him home," Prue said, quickly stepping in to take charge of the situation, seeing that neither Leo, nor Piper, were in any condition to be making rational decisions right now. "We're vulnerable down here in the Underworld."
Grateful for his sister-in-law's calm direction, Leo nodded and heaved his son's limp body up off the floor. Chris's head lolled against his shoulder and his unconsciousness made him especially heavy, but Leo ignored the resultant shaking of his arms and held on tight, cradling his son against his chest as one would a newborn baby.
"What about that?" Paige asked, looking pointedly at Excalibur, which lay abandoned on the ground nearby.
"Wyatt," Leo instructed curtly, nodding meaningfully at the discarded sword.
Little Wyatt's eyes narrowed in concentration and Excalibur disappeared in a whirl of blue lights. Leo followed with Chris immediately afterwards, the rest of the family close on his heels.
"Take him," Piper said, thrusting Wyatt at Paige as soon as they materialised back at the Manor. She then hurried forward to where Leo had just laid Chris gently down on their bed.
"What is it? What's wrong with him?" she asked, perching on the mattress beside her boy. Reaching out with trembling fingers, she brushed his hair back off his deathly white face, her eyes wide and frightened.
Leo shook his head, his grave face mirroring her own overpowering concern. "I don't know," he said with quiet despair. "I just… I don't know."
"Maybe he just exhausted himself," Phoebe suggested hopefully, knowing as soon as the trite words left her mouth how ridiculous they were. Even with no medical experience, she could see that her nephew was near to death.
"Is he still breathing?" she asked worriedly, as Leo leaned forward and expertly pressed his ear to Chris's chest, listening for sounds of fluid on his lungs.
"Just," her brother-in-law confirmed, his fingers seeking out the pulse in his son's neck.
After he'd checked the status of his heartbeat, he pulled up Chris's t-shirt and carefully examined the round burn mark on his left hip. While the energy ball injury certainly looked extremely nasty, it didn't appear to be life threatening. Chris's condition must be due to something else. With a sudden burst of inspiration, Leo held his hand out over the blistering wound and cautiously let his healing power flow. His son immediately began to fit again, although not quite as violently as before. Strangely, though, the burn mark gradually faded and eventually disappeared.
Withdrawing his hand, the Elder frowned in puzzlement. "Something's not right here," he muttered to himself as he lightly pressed his fingers over the smooth, newly healed flesh, searching for that elusive symptom that he'd somehow missed. "I can heal his physical wounds but there has to be something…"
He broke off as the loud, jarring sound of the front doorbell rang through the house like a klaxon. They all ignored it, too concerned about Chris to pay it much heed. The doorbell rang again a few seconds later though, and then again shortly after that. It was almost as if someone was leaning on it and refusing to let go.
"Get rid of them!" Piper snapped over her shoulder at her sisters, the continuous sound grating on her already highly-strung nerves.
Knowing that her sister would probably turn their visitors into toads – or worse - if she didn't do something, Phoebe quickly turned and went to answer the door.
"All right, all right, I'm coming, I'm coming," she called out irritably, as she clattered down the stairs to the accompaniment of the endlessly chiming doorbell.
Pulling open the door, she prepared to turn whoever it was away, but the young woman standing on the doorstep spoke before she could utter a single word to that effect.
"Phoebe! Thank god you're still here, I have to talk to you," Stacey exclaimed frantically. She suddenly stopped as she registered the Charmed One's rather dishevelled appearance. "It's over, isn't it?" she asked fearfully.
Phoebe nodded. "Alcathan is dead," she confirmed tersely.
"And what about Chris?" Stacey rushed on. "Is he all right?"
"I…" Phoebe's eyes filled with sudden tears as the full horror of the situation hit her like a ton of bricks. "I… there's something… He…" she broke off, unable to continue.
"Oh god! Why did I wait so long?" Stacey berated herself, tears filling her eyes. She felt Paul's warm hands close over her shoulders and she leaned back against him for support.
"What? What do you mean?" Phoebe questioned sharply.
"I'm sorry – Chris made me promise not to tell," Stacey bemoaned, brushing away her tears with the back of her hand. "I know I shouldn't have listened to him, but he… well, he can be pretty persuasive when he wants to be. I knew it was a mistake the moment I got to Chicago – I should have got on a plane back home right there and then, but I waited... Oh god, I'm so sorry!"
Phoebe drew in a deep breath and tried to put her shattered wits back into some semblance of order. "I think you'd better come in," she said, ushering the young couple inside and closing the door behind them.
"Follow me," she instructed curtly, leading them up the stairs and then along the corridor to Piper and Leo's bedroom. "Now tell us everything you know," she said.
Stacey however, froze in horror at the sight of her incapacitated friend. She'd been with her maternal grandmother when she'd passed away the previous summer, so she knew what death looked like. The only thing that suggested that Chris was still alive was the slight up-and-down movement of his chest. Otherwise, his appearance was death personified.
"Stacey!" Phoebe said harshly. "What did Chris make you promise not to tell us?"
"W-what? What are you talking about?" Piper said, raising her red, tear-stained eyes from their rapt contemplation of her son's pale face.
"I…," Stacey stuttered. "It was the demons…"
"The ones who attacked you last week?" Paige demanded brusquely when words failed the young witch for a second time.
Stacey nodded rather shakily. "Yes - they cut Chris with that athame, remember?"
"But Leo healed him…" Paige protested.
Stacey shook her head. "No, no, he didn't - the wound came back, worse than before." She moved closer to the bed and insistently pointed at Chris's stomach. "Look, see… the bandage."
They all looked back at her blankly.
"Look if this is some kind of joke, missy…" Piper warned threateningly.
"No!" Stacey cried. "Look - can't you see?"
Leaning down, she pulled back Chris's t-shirt so that the dressing covering the athame wound was clearly visible. She got no response from Chris's family however, so she turned and appealed to Paul for support.
"You can see it, right?" she demanded of him.
To her relief, Paul nodded that he could. "You said Chris was trying to hide his injury from his family," he said. "Maybe he did something… you know, umm, magical…"
"Yes!" Stacey said, seizing on the only explanation available to her. "An invisibility spell or something…"
"Or something," Prue cut in then, her eyes widening in amazement as her vision cleared and she suddenly saw what her eyes had been encouraged not to see.
"What are you talking about?" Piper asked of her sister.
"Piper, just look and accept what Stacey's telling you…" Prue urged her.
"I don't see what…"
"Piper!" Leo's voice cut in sharply.
The insistent tone of her husband's voice brooked no refusal and Piper obediently looked down at her son's exposed abdomen. Almost like a mirage clearing, the skin rippled and shimmered, and a large, bloodstained bandage rose to the surface and coalesced into a solid image. Her mouth dropped open in shock.
"I guess once you know the truth, the spell becomes ineffective," Leo surmised, peeling back the dressing to reveal the wound underneath. "Jesus!" he exclaimed, gagging slightly at the foul smell emanating from the almost gangrenous cut that ran the breadth of his son's lower abdomen.
Drawing in a shaky breath, he looked over at Stacey. "You need to tell us everything you know," he told her authoritatively.
Stacey nodded obediently. "Chris, he umm, he came to see me a few days ago," she said, "He wanted to know more about the demons who attacked me. He didn't tell me why at first. Actually, he couldn't tell me why," she amended. "He said he was under a like, err an inter… an inter…"
"An interdiction," Leo supplied. "It's a formal means of forbidding something. In magical terms, it means that the affected person can't speak about whatever it is he or she has been forbidden to."
Stacey nodded. "Well anyway," she continued. "I had already noticed that he was looking ill, and when he moved he was obviously in pain, so it didn't take too much to figure out the truth. Once I'd done that, it was like he could talk to me again. He said he thought that maybe he'd been infected with a curse of some kind."
"Makes sense," Leo concurred. "That might be immune to whitelighter healing – although why it would make it worse…?" He trailed off with a puzzled shake of his head.
"I told him that he should tell you," Stacey went on, "But he said no…"
"And you listened to him?" Piper remonstrated.
Stacey flushed. "He didn't exactly give me much choice," she retorted defensively. "He threatened to use Wyatt's powers to keep me quiet."
She looked down at Chris then, her expression grave. "He thought you'd stop him from confronting Alcathan, you see," she explained quietly. "And his life, the future… he told me what it was like for him. The only thing that mattered to him was making it right again. If he couldn't do that then…" she stopped and shrugged.
There was silence as everyone took that in, and then Leo forcibly shook himself out of his abstracted reverie. "All right so we know you went looking for the demons…" he prompted.
"Yeah and that's when we found out that Alcathan was behind the attack," Stacey replied. "Once he'd discovered that, Chris had me burn the evidence. Then he orbed me home and took me to Paul's later on that same night."
"And that's it? That's all you know?" Prue asked.
Stacey nodded miserably, knowing that she hadn't given them very much to go on.
"Chris didn't say anything else to you?" Phoebe enquired with a hint of desperation in her voice.
"No, he…" Stacey stopped and frowned as something suddenly occurred to her. "Maybe there is something," she said slowly. "It's just a feeling though…"
"What is?" Prue asked.
"I asked Chris to call me while I was in Chicago – I needed to know that he was okay, you know?"
"And?"
"It's just… the way he spoke… I think he knew more – about what was happening to him, I mean. It's like he found something out in the last couple of days, something he didn't know before, something he didn't want to tell me."
"But Chris hasn't left the house since he took you to Chicago," Phoebe said, "At least not until we went to confront Alcathan. How could he have found out anything without us knowing about it?"
"Wyatt," Prue stated with a snap of her fingers. "They can talk to each other telepathically, right?"
She looked at her brother-in-law who nodded in confirmation. "Chris insisted on asking him about borrowing Excalibur on his own too, remember? Maybe Wyatt guessed what was going on."
"It's certainly possible," Leo said, searching through his future self's memories for the information that he needed. "The boys… they have this connection – rather like your sisterly bond. Chris wouldn't necessarily have had to have told Wyatt anything – he could have just sensed something wasn't right."
"What use is that now though?" Piper said tearfully. "Wyatt's not here, is he? He's back in the future. A future that doesn't exist anymore…"
OOOOOO
The Original Future, forty-five minutes earlier…
There was a cataclysmic wrench as the earth tore asunder. The sound was deafening and a rain of rocks began to fall like hailstones all around them.
Keeping his arm around his semi-conscious son's waist, Leo stumbled for the cave's entrance, making for the beach outside. Deep down, he knew it was over but he wanted to make the most of every last minute he had left. His son had been lost to him for so long, he deserved that time, they both did.
Coughing and spluttering, Wyatt fell to his knees in the warm, soft sand. He shook his head like a dog emerging from water, trying to clear the fog that filled his brain. He looked up and saw the rolling darkness approaching on the horizon.
"Chris," he repeated dumbly.
"He did it," Leo was quietly exultant.
His boys would have the life they should have had all along now. Despite the dire consequences to himself, that somehow made it all worthwhile. He turned to smile at his son, but the smile faded on his lips when he caught sight of the look on Wyatt's face. The young man's eyes were filled with a heart wrenching anguish, and that's when Leo realised. Back in the cave, right before the power-switching spell had overcome him - Wyatt had been trying to tell him something, something about Chris…
"Tell me," he urged, cold fear curling in his belly.
"Alcathan, he… Drohomeride."
Leo froze as horrible realisation dawned. Chris's sickness, his pale tiredness – symptoms that he'd attributed to emotional stress. "But how…?" he started and then stopped, remembering what the other Leo had told him only a few short days ago.
He should have realised. The demons, the cut – Chris flinching when his other self had healed his injury. And then he'd healed him again the very next day, when their son had gotten sick… Oh god, oh god, oh god…
"I have to go back," Wyatt's tone was frantic, determined. He looked about him wildly. "I need a piece of paper, pen… I need a spell… I…"
"Wyatt," Leo reached out and caught his son's arm. Wyatt looked at him, dark realisation stark in his blue eyes. "I can't go back, can I?" he said, "If I do, I could undo everything Chris has done."
Leo nodded gravely. "You couldn't do anything anyway," he said in an anguished tone. "Drohomeride is universally fatal." He closed his eyes and let a single tear trickle down his cheek. "At least his baby self will have a second chance at life," he whispered.
"Oh God! You don't understand!" Wyatt cried. "I could have healed him, Dad. I could've healed him."
"What?" Leo's eyes snapped open. "What do you mean?"
"I've done it before."
"But you… what?"
Wyatt began to pace. "There has to be a way, there has to…" His eyes widened and he swung round to face his father. "How did you tell them?" he demanded.
"Tell who what?" Leo asked, confused.
"Mom, Chris, my Aunts… How did you tell them that you were bringing me back to the past? They were ready so they must have known…"
"I… I sent a note through time - the piece of paper I used was enchanted. It was a Power of Three spell though, Wyatt. I didn't cast the spell - your Mom and Aunts did."
"Can you remember it? The spell, I mean."
"I… yes, I guess… But…"
"I know it might not work, but I have to try. If Little-Me can… Please Dad. There's so much for me to make up for."
Leo nodded. "We'll need some paper," he said, suddenly all business. He cast a wary glance at the advancing darkness. "We don't have much time."
Closing his eyes, Wyatt searched with his mind and located what they needed. A whirl of blue lights and a pad of paper and a pen appeared in his outstretched hands. "My orbs are blue again," he observed as Leo tore the top sheet off the pad and scribbled down the spell for him.
Leo smiled despite himself. "Love is the strongest healer," he said.
"I guess." Wyatt's lips quirked up in a small smile. "Okay," he said, tearing off a clean sheet of paper and balancing it on the palm of his right hand. "Here we go…"
"In this place and in this hour,
I call upon the ancient power.
Send this note through time and space,
To the one with the familiar face."
The paper in his hand glowed blue, and Leo nodded in quiet satisfaction. "I think that's a good sign," he said. "It was a yellow glow with your Mom and Aunts, but your power is slightly different to theirs."
Taking the enchanted sheet of paper from Wyatt's hand, he quickly wrote a few words of explanation across the top of it, and then offered the pen and paper back to his son.
"Don't you want to do it?" Wyatt asked.
Leo shook his head. "I've said all I need to say," he said. "But I don't think you have. You need to hurry though."
After a brief moment of indecision, Wyatt reached out and took the pen and paper from his father's outstretched hand. He sat down on a rock nearby and began to write, his hand moving back and forth across the paper with lightening speed.
Leo watched him with a melancholy expression on his worn face. He could tell Wyatt was using magic to help him to write faster, but he still knew there wouldn't be enough time to say all that needed to be said. He looked again at the methodically approaching darkness on the horizon – it was getting ever closer. It wouldn't be long now.
"Wyatt," he said meaningfully.
Wyatt nodded, scribbled a few more words and then signed the note with a flourish. He rose to his feet. "Okay, so how does this work?"
"You think about where you want to send it, focus the picture in your mind and then blow on it," Leo said. "I directed mine at Chris but that might not be such a good idea in this case. We don't know what's going on back there – we don't want the note to get lost in the confusion."
"The Manor then?" Wyatt suggested.
Leo nodded. "Focus on the Book of Shadows. They should find it there."
Wyatt closed his eyes and drew a picture of the Manor attic in his mind, but then frowned. "What if the Book's not in the attic?" he asked. "Won't that confuse things?"
Leo cocked his head to one side as he thought about that. "Possibly," he agreed. The earth beneath their feet shuddered and quaked violently then, making them both stumble.
"But we don't really have any other option," Leo went on breathlessly. "We've run out of time…"
The ground roiled again like a sinking ship and the light of the sun faded as the darkness swallowed it whole.
"Just do it, Wyatt, before it's too late!" Leo exclaimed.
Wyatt quickly focused the image in his mind and blew on the piece of paper. It disappeared in a swirl of golden lights. He then turned his gaze to the wall of cloudy blackness that was eating up everything in its path with inexorable determination.
"That's it, isn't it?" he said. "That's the end."
Leo reached out and grasped his son's hand firmly in his. "It's worth it," he replied.
Wyatt nodded. "There's one thing I don't understand," he said as they faced down the inevitable together. "Why did I change back? Before the future did, I mean. It wasn't actually over until the earthquake, was it?"
Leo smiled. "You made a choice," he said. "You chose to help Chris, and I think that somewhere along the line, you must have chosen to let good back into your soul too. The evil is still there but you pushed it to one side. You found that strength within you somehow."
Wyatt suddenly remembered the vivid dream he'd had, that painful walk through the crucial moments of his life. His mother's horrible death. His fatal surrender to the darkness within his soul. His refusal to give up on making his brother see his point of view, and Chris's insistent defiance of that. And most of all, the shining evidence of his family's unconditional love for him…
"Because you're family. Because I know that the person you've become isn't really the true you, that the brother I used to have still exists inside you somehow. And because I love you, I guess."
Wyatt smiled a little sadly. "I guess I did," he said.
His father nodded and gripped his hand even tighter. "I'm proud of you, son."
"Even after everything?"
"Even after everything," Leo confirmed. "You fought back and won and that's all that matters."
Wyatt nodded, tears rolling freely down his face now. "I love you, Dad."
Leo turned and pulled him close, resting his chin on his son's shoulder as he crossed his arms across his back. "I love you too, Wyatt," he responded with heartfelt emotion.
Silence fell between them then. There was nothing left to say. It was time for them to accept their fate and surrender themselves to it with quiet dignity.
They would never be truly gone, they realised. They would live on in the hearts and minds of those who followed them. Who they were, who they'd been, would be woven into the fabric of time for all eternity. They would be a reminder, a warning certainly. But, most of all, they'd be a lasting testament to the strength of one family's enduring love.
The darkness got closer.
A hundred metres away…
Fifty…
Twenty…
Ten…
In the end, as the vanishing future finally claimed them as its own, all they felt was quiet blessed relief…
OOOOOO
Two and a half days later…
Paige opened the door and smiled wearily at the three people on the doorstep. "Hey sweetie!" she said, taking her little nephew in her arms and hugging him close. His sweet baby smell touched her heart and for a brief moment took away the unbearable anguish inside.
"Are you sure you don't want us to keep him longer?" Sheila Morris asked.
Paige shook her head. "No, he, umm… he should be here when…" she broke off, unable to say the words.
"You've not found out anything new then?" Darryl asked with heavy resignation.
"No, there's just… nothing."
Sheila reached out and hugged her friend in heartfelt sympathy. "You and your sisters call us if you need anything, okay?"
Paige nodded. "We will," she with a sigh. "And thanks… for everything."
Closing the door behind them, Paige paused to gather her strength before she ascended the stairs. Piper and Leo had barely left Chris's side in the last couple of days. As he hovered on a knife-edge between life and death, neither could bear to tear themselves away for fear of not being there when the horrible moment came. Paige and her two sisters had been left to scour the universe for an answer to a question that had unfortunately continued to elude them. The three women slept in shifts, not wanting to give up the desperate search for even a second.
This morning though, when Paige had entered the sickroom to check on the patient, she could tell from the look on Leo's face that they'd finally run out of time. Chris's condition was significantly worse - his breathing was painfully laboured, his face grey and his skin ice-cold to touch. It wouldn't be much longer now and she'd surrendered herself to the inevitable with a devastated heart.
As she reached the foot of the staircase, she met Prue, Phoebe and their father, Victor coming down the stairs, their expressions grave. Prue shook her head at her youngest sister, halting her in her tracks.
"Not now, Paige," she said quietly. "I think we should leave them alone for a bit. I think it's finally crashed in on Piper what's going to happen."
"Oh, oh god, I can't bear this," Phoebe suddenly wailed, burying her face in her elder sister's shoulder and bursting into tears. Prue's jaw tightened as she fought back her own sobs, but eventually she could no longer hold them in. Victor put his arms around his sobbing daughters and held them close, shushing them with murmuring words of comfort.
Paige kissed her nephew's soft little cheek, feeling somewhat excluded. She knew her sisters weren't intentionally shutting her out. Victor was their father, and there were ties there that she could never be part of. Strangely, out of nowhere, she felt the sudden urge to see her own father, and she almost called out to him. Wyatt's wobbling lip stopped her from doing so though. The little boy was getting upset by his Aunts' grief and she realised it was probably best to remove him from the situation before his own tears fell.
Walking into the conservatory, she set him down on the floor amongst his toys. "Hey! Look at that, Wyatt. Shall we play with the cool car?" she cooed at him.
As easily distracted as any other toddler, Wyatt took the brightly coloured toy out of her hand and pushed the big blue button on the top. The sound of an engine roaring emanated from the plastic car and he giggled in delight. Leaving him to play, Paige sat down on the wicker loveseat and stared, glassy-eyed, into space.
Unlike her sisters, she couldn't cry. The grief was there; deep down inside, but something stopped her from acknowledging it. It was a big ball of knotted emotion locked away in a box. A box that if opened would spill its contents indiscriminately, overwhelming her in a tidal wave of unstoppable grief.
Looking up a few minutes later, she found that Wyatt had abandoned his toys and was toddling determinedly towards the table next to where she was sitting.
"Oh no you don't, little guy," she said, catching him around the middle and removing him from harm's way. Wyatt however, immediately orbed out of her grasp and reappeared under the table.
"Honey, don't – you're going to bump your head," Paige protested as Wyatt crawled out from under the piece of furniture and unsteadily rose to his feet, the back of his head precariously close to the sharp edge of the table as he did so.
He toddled towards her, holding a piece of crumbled paper in his hand. "'Iss," he said earnestly.
"I'm sorry, sweetie – Chris can't play right now. He's very sick and he needs to sleep."
"'Iss," Wyatt said again, dropping the dusty piece of paper in her lap.
Paige was about to toss the paper aside, but something made her smooth it out and look at it first. She read the first few lines of scribbled writing and a loud gasp escaped her throat. "Oh, oh god!"
Scooping Wyatt up into her arms, she rushed back into the hall. "Upstairs – now!" she barked at her sisters and then vanished in a swirl of blue lights. Phoebe and Prue drew back from their father, looked at each other and then turned and pounded back up the stairs as fast as their feet would carry them.
"Paige!" Leo protested when his sister-in-law emerged in the centre of the bedroom with her baby nephew in her arms. "I don't think Wyatt should see Chris like this."
The Elder was sitting on the sofa holding his crying wife in his arms. Paige's only answer was to thrust a piece of paper at him. Unthinkingly, he reached out and took it from her, his gaze dropping to the words written in black ink across its surface.
Moments later, he sat bolt upright. "Oh my god!"
"What? What is it?" Piper asked, her voice thick with tears.
Leo was already on his feet and moving towards the bed though, his attention switching away from her and onto his son in a heart stopping instant of sudden, blind hope.
"How do I get him to do it?" Paige asked frantically, depositing little Wyatt on the bedspread besides his comatose brother and wringing her hands agitatedly. She could hear the loud clatter of her sister's footsteps pounding up the stairs, but her attention remained fixed on her nephew's face.
"Let me," Leo said, pushing her rather roughly aside. He sat down and lifted his son into his lap, then bent to speak in the little boy's ear. "Hey buddy, now listen, I need you to do something for Daddy, okay?"
"What's going on?" Piper was on her feet now, her hands curled around her expanding waistline. "Paige?" she demanded.
"There was a note, downstairs, the conservatory," Paige explained in a staccato rush, as Prue and Phoebe careened to a abrupt stop in the hallway outside and jostled with each other to enter the room first. "It was… The Future… Wyatt… He… Chris…"
On the bed, Leo had finally coaxed Wyatt into using his previously dormant healing power and the bright glow from his little hands was almost incandescent in its intensity. Chris immediately began to thrash about against the pillows, his back and neck arched in obvious pain as the yellow glow seared his skin and burned like battery acid in his veins.
"No! Stop! What are you doing?" Piper cried out, her son's pain-filled moans too much for her to handle.
"Piper, it's all right," Paige said, catching her sister's hands in hers and preventing her from intervening.
"How can it be all right? He's hurting him!" Piper shot back, struggling to get away from her sister's firm grasp.
"Yes, but it's the only way! Future Wyatt sent a note – we knew he might know what was wrong with Chris, remember? He said that Chris has been poisoned, that there's no known antidote and that whitelighter healing power only makes the situation worse."
"So why is he healing him then?" Piper cried in agitation.
"Because, somehow, Wyatt's healing power doesn't have the same effect. He said that it'll make things a lot worse to start with, but then, later on, there'll be a turning point and things will begin to get better. He's not sure whether his baby self's power will be strong enough though, but we have to try, Piper. If we don't, Chris will die – there is no other way to cure him, the poison is universally fatal otherwise."
Piper still wasn't convinced however. "How do we know we can trust Wyatt?" she said. "He's evil, remember?"
"Not anymore," Leo said. "At least not completely - my other self confirmed that."
Paige nodded. "The note's from him too, although it looks like Wyatt wrote most of it."
Piper finally relented. Hurrying to the bed, she sat down next to her son and curled her fingers into his, holding tightly onto his hand as he convulsed and jerked in relentless agony.
"It's all right, sweetie, Mommy's here," she crooned softly to him. "Just hold on, okay? It'll all be over soon, I promise."
While his wife couldn't tear her horrified eyes from his face, Leo could only bear to watch their son's torment for so long. Sucking in a shaky breath, he looked again at the note that he still held in his hand. The first few paragraphs were a hastily written explanation of how to help Chris, but then the narrative changed in tone. The underlying emotions behind the words jumped off the page and took on life, touching Leo deep down inside his soul.
"To my family," he read silently.
"I can see the end approaching on the horizon. The world is different and yet also still the same. Evil still poisons my soul, but somehow, in these final moments, it is easier to fight off. I see things clearly for the first time after so many years of darkness.
I don't know whether my baby self's power will work or not, whether it will save Chris from the jaws of death. But know that I tried to save him - that I gave it my all even if the attempt is doomed to fail. Thank you for never giving up on me - you will never know how much that means. And also know that I do love you, despite all the awful things that I said and did while I was with you.
There is so much more that I want to say, but there is so little time left in which to say it. I hope you understand why I end this here therefore. My final words are reserved for someone else, and I know you'll understand why that's the most important thing right now.
This is where the journey ends then. Mom, Dad, 'Aunts' - I love you. Be safe.
Wyatt x"
Biting his bottom lip, Leo turned over the piece of paper in his hands. Cramped writing filled the entire other side of the page and the name at the top came as no surprise to him.
"Chris," it began, but he didn't read any further, knowing that his eyes should not be the first to read those words. He folded the piece of paper in half, enclosing Wyatt's message to his brother on the inside, and then tucked it in his shirt pocket for safekeeping.
Chris's violently thrashing movements had eased now and his whimpering moans of pain gradually diminished until he finally fell silent. His stillness was somehow even more frightening however. His dark eyelashes were lying flat against his sunken cheeks, his gaunt face marble-like in its paleness. An erratic pulse fluttered falteringly at his throat and his breathing was shallow and barely detectable.
Leo instinctively reached out and grasped his son's other hand. "Come on, son," he encouraged as the soothing glow from Wyatt's tiny palms continued on unabated. It had been several minutes now. How much longer was it going to take?
Eventually though, the twinkling sound of Wyatt's healing power seemed to change tone, and Leo thought he detected a hint of colour returning to Chris's face. As they all watched with bated breath, the rosy bloom deepened, becoming more and more pronounced as time went by. Chris's breathing evened out and his eyelids began to flutter. Finally, with a sharp intake of breath, he opened his eyes and unparalleled relief washed over Leo like a soothing balm. His son was safe.
"It's all right, Wyatt, you can stop now," he told the little boy quietly.
Wyatt closed his fingers into fists and bounced on the springy mattress, flapping his arms up and down like a bird about to take flight. "'Iss!" he pronounced with animated satisfaction.
Chris stared blankly at his excited little-big brother for a moment, and then wearily closed his eyes. "Okay, so kill me now," he remarked dryly, his voice rusty and breaking over the sardonic words.
"That's not even remotely funny!" Piper admonished him reprovingly.
A hint of smile touched the corner Chris's cracked lips but he didn't open his eyes. "Sorry Mom."
With a low cry, she swooped down and kissed him, her arms encircling his head as she pressed her lips repeatedly to his forehead. "Don't ever do anything like that to me again," she exclaimed.
He opened his eyes and looked up into her face. "I had to," he said solemnly. "I'm sorry – I couldn't risk the alternative. Saving the future was too important."
Piper sighed, stroking the backs of her fingers over the side of his face. There wasn't much she could say to that. His tendency towards martyrdom was something she couldn't help but admire. He'd been through so much and yet he had never stopped fighting, not once.
Chris grinned at her. "I'm grounded for life, aren't I?" he said and she smiled in spite of herself.
"Give it thirty years or so and you might be eligible for parole," she told him.
He let out a weak little chuckle and then closed his eyes again with a sigh. She looked at Leo with concern but he didn't seem too worried by their son's continuing lethargy.
"It's gonna take some time," he told her gently. "His body's been through a significant trauma. He just needs to rest, build up his strength again."
"And so do you," he added after a beat.
"But…" Piper protested.
"I'll stay with him," he promised her. "You need to take care of baby Chris right now."
"He's right," Phoebe said, stepping forward. She bent and kissed her sleeping nephew lightly on the forehead, and then held out her hand to her tired-looking sister. "Come on, Piper, you can have my bed."
Paige and Prue stepped aside as the two women left the room, and then each moved forward to reassure themselves that Chris was indeed on the mend.
"I'll put him down for a nap," Prue said, hoisting Wyatt up into her arms. The little boy's eyelids were already beginning to droop and she marvelled at his ability to fall asleep almost anywhere.
"He's had a busy day," she remarked with a smile.
Victor followed the sisters out the room and Leo was left alone with his son. Reaching out, he stroked his hand over Chris's unruly mop of dark hair and the witch-whitelighter stirred, opening his eyes again.
"How?" he asked in a croaky whisper.
Instinctively knowing what his son was asking, Leo reached into his shirt pocket and removed the note. "Because of this," he explained.
Chris manoeuvred himself into a sitting position and took the note, unfolding it and reading what was on the outside rather than the more personal words within. When his gaze reached the bottom of the page however, his eyes widened slightly, a sudden hope flaring in their green depths. Leo knew what he was thinking. Was Wyatt referring to him or not?
"Turn it over," he urged quietly and buoyed by his father's reassurance, Chris did just that.
Leo sat back and watched as a myriad of emotions played across his son's face as he read the message from his brother. His green eyes filled with tears when they reached the end of the narrative, but he didn't let them fall – not yet.
He lifted his gaze to his father's face instead, and smiled with some difficulty. "I guess that's makes us quits," he said thickly, and then his face crumpled and the bitter tears finally fell.
Rising quietly to his feet, Leo sat down on the bed, drew his son close and let him cry for the future that had once been, and the new life that was finally, at long last, within in his grasp…
To be continued…
A/N2: Before the avalanche of complaints, you will get to hear Wyatt's letter, I swear. I know I promised that ages ago with the rest of Future Leo's letter and never actually delivered, but this is different.
I could never quite find the right time to return to that letter and it didn't seem to matter anyway – Future Leo and Chris reached closure with the former's revisit to the past in the end. Original-Future Wyatt and Chris have to have some pay-off though or a lot of the emotional meaning behind the story will be lost.
Till next time then…
CharmedBec x