My head cannons for Chris's group who are OC'S:
Brandon Davis: Dylan O'Brien (w/ blond hair)
Jon Shea: Jon Foo
Duncan Stanton: Alfred Enoch
Zack Thurston: Logan Lerman
Sean Reardon: Christian Alexander
Parker Faith Halliwell: Marie Avgeropoulos
Michael Landers: Christian Kane

Chapter 30
The Brothers War

After several trips through a time portal he'd become accustomed to the sensation of his stomach dropping to his feet as his head spun. It was a small blessing, all things considered, that the practice kept him on his feet. The only sign of weakness he allowed was a slight trip in his step as exhaustion and lack of power made him feel weaker than he wanted to be. What greeted him was a contingent of demonic bodyguards that he knew by their insignia were his brother's personal guard, not that the blond man needed them. No, they were more for show and intimidation than anything else. That and for taking care of attackers that his brother deemed below his notice.

"Welcome home, Chris," he felt a shiver run down his spine, and the demons shifted to reveal the shadowed man at the back who walked forward into the light from one of the rooms many show spotlights. His face was devoid of emotion, though Chris was still able to see the undercurrent of anger in his eyes from the last time they'd met.

"Hello, Wyatt," he said carefully as he refused to shift under the other man's gaze. His brother walked forward and Chris' eyebrows furrowed when he heard the floor creak, but made sure to keep eye contact with the older man, and his face neutral. Finally, his brother stopped before him and looked him over.

"They're no threat to me," he said and the implied order sent the guards shimmering from the room. Wyatt, confident that he could sense no magic from his sibling, looked far too pleased with himself, "Et tu, Chris? Of all the people to betray me."

Chris bit his tongue, of course, this would be seen as the betrayal. Not the years of fighting, no that was just Chris being stubborn and driven in his brother's mind. The Resistance, no matter how successful, had always been a pipe dream and they both knew it. Wyatt had been willing to wait until he fought himself out and 'saw reason'. But then Chris had to go and do this. His brother was finally starting to grasp the depth of the divide between them. He finally understood that Chris would rather risk his very existence than follow his dark path. That it wasn't all lip service, and he could see that it had shaken his brother to his core no matter how much he tried to hide it with sarcasm.

"I didn't go back to betray you, Wyatt," he sighed, his voice tired but still full of the conviction he always had when they talked about these things. "I went back to save you."

Wyatt pulled up short and looked at him genuinely surprised, and if Chris wasn't mistaken a little bit hopeful. "Save me? From what?"

Chris winced, knowing what was coming next, "From whatever evil it was that turned you."

"That's always been your problem, Chris." If he'd been less conscious of his image as the calm collected leader of the world Chris knew his brother would have shaken him. The eight-year-old cyclical argument that neither of them won beginning again. "Still stuck in the old good-versus-evil morass. I'm so past that. It's all about power. It's as simple as that."

"And whoever has the most power wins," Chris scoffed reciting the end of a tirade he'd heard too many times before with a roll of his eyes. His brother shifted as if to hit him but stopped and took a deep breath instead, reining himself in from reacting to the younger man's flippancy.

"That's it," Wyatt snarled and Chris looked skyward, as if asking a power that was either no longer there or able to help for patience, and his brother pushed on. "That's why I keep this museum intact. To remind everyone of the power from which I was born and that which I possess."

Chris stepped forward, why couldn't his brother just see sense! "Too bad the rest of the world isn't faring as well as your little shrine here."

"You know, if anyone else tried what you tried, I'd kill them on the spot. But you..." Wyatt drawled and Chris scoffed, shaking his head. He was, of course, a special case, "I've forgiven Bianca. I can forgive you, too. If, you promise never to cross me again."

Chris knew what that promise would entail and it would be the end of everything. Wyatt wouldn't be satisfied with imprisonment, he'd broken out of that too many times already. No, he'd make him swear a blood oath this time, and it would literally kill him to betray his brother, "I think you know me better than that."

Wyatt's eyes narrowed and the energy in the room grew dangerous as the control he had on his temper frayed almost to breaking. Then he turned to Bianca and Chris could feel the way she shifted back, absolutely terrified, "I thought you said you could talk some sense into him."

"Leave her out of this!" Chris snapped and shifted in front of her instinctively, trying to protect her from suffering anymore at the hands of this mad man.

Wyatt's reaction was instantaneous as he raised his hand and squeezed it into a fist. The force of the magic cut off Chris's windpipe and slowly pulled him to the floor. It wasn't the first time he'd been choked by Wyatt, but it was the first time he had no defenses at all against the demi-god and it terrified him.

"Pardon me?" Wyatt hissed before flicking his hand open and to the side.

"Chris!" Bianca cried as he was thrown across the room and into some shelves. Then his brother lifted him again and threw him in another direction and through a table. It hurt, but he'd been hurt worse and didn't have time to wallow. He needed to get to that floorboard. "You promised you wouldn't hurt him!"

"And you promised you'd turn him." Wyatt snapped glaring down at them, so that had been his plan. He'd thought that, because Chris had fallen in love, he'd finally found something more important to his brother than his mission. Too bad he hadn't also realized that giving the woman he loved a happier future was part of that mission, even if he ended up not being a part of it. "Just like I turned you or at least, I thought I had."

"Chris, please," she crouched down before him and held his face in her hands, as tears fell from her eyes. Those tears meant the real Bianca was finally breaking through, "I didn't bring you here to die."

"Don't worry, I know what I'm doing," he whispered looking at the floorboard under the other man's feet before smirking at her again. "...I think."

He took a deep breath, centering himself as he prepared for more pain. Then he pushed himself up and charged his brother. His plan had been to tackle him away from the area so that he could get at the wood. But Wyatt dodged and he was thrown across the room and through another table.

"Have you lost your mind?" Wyatt asked incredulously, and for a brief second his brother, the one he'd grown up with, was there watching him with a troubled, worried, expression. Then just as quickly he was swallowed by darkness and Lord Wyatt was back.

This was the version of him Chris had always truly feared, the part of his brother's fractured psyche that was reactive, violent, and cared nothing for him. Like this he was no better than a rabid dog and, while he was prone to mistakes, he also wasn't merciful. This part of Wyatt had choked him, beaten him, and almost killed him by stabbing him through the stomach. Now, as he was raised off the ground by his throat, he realized he'd miscalculated and pushed too far in an already delicate situation. Here he had no allies, he had no powers, and he didn't even have the beginnings of a plan yet he'd forge along hoping luck would get him through one last time, he was acting like the Charmed Ones, stupid. The older man had snapped, proved by the energy ball forming in his palm. In a fit of disillusioned rage, his brother was about to destroy them both.

"I don't. Need. You."

Chris saw his life flash before his eyes, what a sad one it was, as oxygen deprivation set in. Then all at once, it was gone and he hit the ground hard. On his hands and knees, he panted and looked up to find Bianca holding his brother through his back. With anyone less powerful she'd have been able to strip them of their powers, but not him. "Whatever you're gonna do, do it fast. I can't hold him long."

Still unsteady he scrambled to the floorboard and ripped it up, finding an aged piece of paper underneath.

Powers of the witches rise,
Come to me across the skies
Return my magic, give me back
All that was taken from the attack.

He looked up just as the last word of the spell left his lips, feeling his power surge through him, and saw that Wyatt was beyond livid. With a snarl, the dark king kicked backward and it sent Bianca flying into a pile of debris. The yell of warning and denial had barely left his lips when she hit and was impaled upon a stake sticking out of the mess they'd made earlier. Time seemed to stop along with his heart and his brother froze, his face clearing the second he realized what he'd done, the mistake he'd made. Then time sped up again.

"No!" Chris screamed and threw his arm in a wide arch sending the other man flying into the ceiling and a chandelier that happened to be in the way. Even someone as powerful as Wyatt wasn't able to handle being electrocuted and a hit that hard at the same time without being knocked out, at least for a moment or two. Ignoring his brother Chris pushed himself to his feet and ran to her, throwing himself down on the ground as he pulled her into his arms. "Bianca. No. No. No. No."

"Haven't we been here before?" she jokingly asked, gasping past the tears and the pain. A pitiful sob escaped him as he remembered their first meeting all those years ago. Only Michael had been there to heal her then, no one was coming this time.

"Maybe we will be again," he choked on the words as tears started to fall from his eyes. Even now, for the woman he loved, he was too broken at his core and couldn't find the light in him to tap into the healing power of his whitelighter side though he tried.

"Maybe, if you can finish what we started." she smiled and he placed his forehead against her chest as a sob escaped him. She placed her hand on his shoulder and pushed him away, as the sound of a groan came from the other side of the room. Wyatt was waking up. "Hurry! Take the spell so he can't send anyone else. Go!"

Chris leaned up and gave her one last kiss before pushing himself to his feet. He didn't want to leave her, but he had no choice. Even with his magic, he couldn't take his brother in a fight, especially weaponless. He needed to get back to the past and fix all of this. It was the only thing he had left. He frantically flipped through the pages looking for the spell and finally found it just as his dazed brother started to push himself up.

"Here these words hear the rhyme, heed the hope within my mind." he started and then was forced to dodge under a relatively low-level energy ball that was thrown at him by the dazed blond. It was a warning shot but it didn't stop him, "Send me back to where I'll find, what I wish in place and time."

The portal on the wall activated and he looked up as he tore the page from the book. His eyes locked with his brothers and it was like an entire conversation passed in an instant. Wyatt was begging him not to, and he was defiant as always. Then he ran and the other man's scream of denial rang through the air behind him as he jumped through the swirling pool of light.

The force of the energy ball his brother had thrown followed him through the portal and he was sent almost across the room as he exited the other side, "Oh my god! Are you ok?"

"Yeah. I'm fine." He groaned as he looked up at Paige before pushing himself off the floor. Then he pushed Leo away lightly as the man came forward to check him for injuries. He only had a few bruises, it was nothing to trouble his father about, "Nice spell."

"Yeah but we just put it in there, like, two seconds ago," Phoebe said looking confused as she stood and walked over to him.

Leo smiled at her, and Chris could see the moment he switched into teacher mode, "well you see, the way time travel works-"

"I already have a little headache," Phoebe said as she rubbed her temple and waved away his explanation, "thanks."

"You have some serious explaining to do, young man," Piper said and her voice brokered no argument on that, while the phrasing made his teeth grit.

"I know," he muttered and felt both chastened and frustrated, he just knew this was going to devolve into an argument. He wasn't quite sure he could handle that right now, "Listen, I'm sorry I lied to you, I really am, but-"

"No," she said cutting him off and the look on her face was stony, "No buts it's about time you tell us the truth, now."

"I can't," he countered and he hated the desperation in his voice, "But not because I don't want to, but because there's only so much I can tell you without the future being changed too much."

"Um, wasn't that your whole point?" Paige asked with a tilt of her head and a raised eyebrow, "To come and change the future?"

"Yeah," he hesitated as he remembered his cousins and uncles, things that could be erased forever if he said the wrong thing. For as screwed up as the future had gotten there were still things, and people, he wanted to make sure happened. "But that was supposed to be more like a surgical strike."

"To save Wyatt?" Leo asked and for the first time, he didn't sound incredulous about the idea.

Chris nodded, "To save Wyatt."

"What about Bianca?" Phoebe asked gently and from the look in her eyes, he knew she just wanted confirmation on something she already suspected.

He took a deep breath, Wyatt regaining consciousness and his flight instincts had pushed her loss to the back of his mind. But his life was no longer in danger and that knowledge was trying to come back to the forefront, that question hadn't helped. With a great amount of control and focus, he tried to shut her loss into a mental compartment to be dealt with later and turned to his aunt.

"Bianca won't be a threat to anyone, anymore," he said, his voice quieter than normal.

Phoebe looked heartbroken for him, "I'm sorry."

"Me, too," he muttered before looking away, still struggling with his emotions, then he looked at them all again, "So you guys still alright with me hanging around here?"

"Absolutely," Leo said with a slight smile and Chris realized that he must have somehow gained Leo's trust in all of this. How that happened he neither knew nor would he question if it got the older man off his back for good. "But the next time you're in trouble you've got to tell us. Trust works both ways."

"Ok," he lied with a little smile and then broke away from the group. He needed to be alone right now and they let him go.

Normally when his emotions were this close to the surface he would orb to his hideout but today was different. Today he didn't know what to do with himself and before he knew what he was doing he found himself standing in the door of his parent's room. Inside Wyatt was playing in his playpen and his brother stood up to look at him as he leaned against the doorway. The little boy was strangely solemn as they looked at one another. As if he could sense how much pain the older man he had such an odd connection to was in.

"If I can't save you, I swear to god I'll stop you," Chris said after a moment, though he knew the threat was empty in the sense that he'd never kill the infant.

No, there were other ways to stop him outside of death or saving but he wasn't quite to that point yet. Either way, whatever he was going to do he needed to do it fast. Not only was he running out of time but Wyatt was as stubborn as he was and if he'd figured out time travel once he'd do it again no matter what it took him. His brother was going to come for him and Chris knew his luck was running out.

That thought ringing in his head like a proverbial death knell he walked away from the bedroom down to the foyer. He wasn't quite sure why so he leaned on the back of the couch staring blankly into the sitting room and the Conservatory beyond it. He still didn't have any leads and he had even less of an idea than when he'd come here. Originally he'd at least had a list of demons who could manipulate children to work off of, but he'd long since killed all of those. Was he looking in the wrong place? Maybe he needed to reevaluate everything he knew about his brother's fall, it couldn't hurt. It was better than thinking about Bianca and what was done to her, how he -

"Chris?" Phoebe asked walking down the stairs and he didn't turn to look at her, barely cognizant of the fact that she was there at all. He'd stupidly allowed that mental box to open and now he couldn't close it again, "Hey, are you really ok?"

"He programmed her to come after me," he said more to himself than to her, still lost in his own head, "And then he killed her."

Phoebe hesitated and placed a hand on his shoulder, "What are you talking about Chris, who's he?"

The physical contact broke through his stupor and he flinched away from her like she'd hit him. It was a split second but everything seemed to collapse in on him and it was hard to breathe. Then it passed and he stared at her breathing hard with wide fearful eyes and if the look he received was any indication he was scaring her. That was a bad thing. Phoebe was nothing if not relentless when it came to the emotions of people she cared about. Did she care about him?

"Nothing," he said and the broken tone of his voice surprised them both, "I'm fine. I have to go."

"Wait! Chris don't-" she started to say as she moved to grab him again but he orbed away too quickly. He just needed to go somewhere quiet and re-pack his emotions, then he'd be ok. Everything would be ok and he moved forward, he had to move forward.

0ooo0ooo0ooo0

Chris didn't remember much of the week following The Fall. It was all a jumbled blur of laying in bed staring at the wall, being force-fed food and water by his aunt, and vague memories of friends trying to talk to him and failing. Plagued and beaten down by the voices of the dead telling him he'd failed them, he couldn't even muster the emotion to cry. He couldn't find the will to do anything. What was the point? The world was sent to hell, his super-powered brother was leading the charge, and most of his family was gone. He knew he was supposed to fix it but he didn't have a clue how. The world had ended. How was he supposed to solve a problem that big? He was fifteen for fuck sake!

It wasn't until days later that he came back to himself, and he always credited the change to Parker. He'd woken up several times to find her burrowed in his arms, seeking comfort from her savior, but today was different. Today she was crying when before she'd been silent. The sound shook something loose in the broken cogs of his mind and a promise he'd made to a dead aunt came back to him. He'd promise to look after her, to protect her. That was something he couldn't do if he sat in bed wasting away. Maybe he couldn't do anything to help people who needed it, but he definitely wouldn't if he just gave up. He would have already lost the war without even trying first. How could he face the family that always fought no matter the odds in the afterlife if he did that? Really, he'd always hated the feeling of being useless and helpless more than anything else, and after months trapped in a room with no way to stop anything, he was tired of feeling it. He'd just had to take things one step at a time, just like Phoebe always said, and it would get him through, it had too.

"Chris?" his grandfather sounded surprised, and then he smiled overjoyed to see his grandson standing in the doorway to the workroom. Dressed in a pair of old black gym shorts and an overly large red shirt with sleep tousled hair he still looked young and lost, but more focused than he had in days. "Hey kiddo, how are you?"

"How long and how many?" he asked, his voice was so rough with disuse he was barely understandable. When his grandfather only looked confused he cleared his throat and tried again. "How long has it been and how many are here?"

"Ah," the older man looked wary like he didn't want to say, but the flash of steel that entered his grandson's eyes made him talk. "Today's the eighth day and roughly four hundred people, and almost five hundred from the magical community are here. That numbers keep growing as Michael and his people find more survivors and word of a safe haven has spread through the local magical community so they're coming too. It's why I'm doing this. We need to know what supplies to get, and how much."

He pointed to the papers covering the stone table and Chris tiredly walked over to see pages filled with lists of names as well as species designation. It was a census and he pursed his lips, something about the idea of designating resources and directing people clicking in his brain. Like Wyatt, he'd found he had a talent for commanding people, of seeing problems and solutions others didn't. However, unlike Wyatt, he'd never become obsessed with the idea, never even really cared about it, to be honest. It was just something he did if needed, or when he was competing with his friends. Now it was a skill he knew he was going to have to use more than he ever wanted too.

"You're keeping families together and housing like with like right?" he asked thoughtfully as he grabbed one of the papers and read down the list.

"What?" His grandfather asked, surprised by the sudden interest and thoughtfulness from the previously catatonic boy. Chris sighed, he needed to move forward, past what happened, and for that he needed work. Lots and lots of work, and he knew there was plenty of that to go around. He'd been thinking about this for months alone in his room and it was time to put everything he'd planned into action.

"It's just, people, mortals mostly, are gonna be uncomfortable stuck in a room with leprechauns and pixies while they come to terms with 'hey magic does exist'" Then he looked at a few more papers and found the supply lists. He considered them and then jotted down a few places they'd want to raid as soon as possible.

"Prue thought the same," his grandfather nodded, and continued like he'd heard his thoughts "she's been the one placing people and leading raids on the local Costco."

He nodded and quirked his mouth to the side a little, "Costco is good, but it won't be enough."

"And why is that?" They both looked over at the door leading out into the main hall, the one Chris hadn't realized was open. In the frame, leaning against it, stood Michael, his brown hair messy and his dirty clothes ripped in several places though he had no visible wounds. "I'm glad to see you're back with us Chris."

Chris looked away, ashamed of his actions. He'd been wallowing away in bed while everyone else was helping. "I know, I'm sorry I-"

"Don't," Michael cut him off and walked over to place a firm hand on his shoulder and then squeezed it comfortingly. "You have nothing to be sorry for kid. You were his prisoner and then, with everything that happened? Trust me, you're one tough kid. At fifteen I don't think I'd ever recover from all you went through, hell, I don't think I could have handled it now. Yet here you are, looking over information and talking about plans just eight days later. I'm impressed, seriously, I am."

"My mom and the aunts would never forgive me if I didn't at least try," he muttered sadly and his grandfather looked away trying to pretend he wasn't holding back tears. "I promised Aunt Phoebe I'd look after Parker. I can't do that if I waste away in bed… Look, I can't focus on what happened. If I do … So I need to just move forward and that means making plans."

"Ok," Michael conceded, and Chris knew that between them at least the subject of what happened would never come up again. Then he took a look at the list of places Chris had jotted down. "So these are places you think we should head for supplies then?"

"Yea and I'd do it sooner rather than later," he paused thoughtfully, trying to remember all the books he'd read about past underground resistances and the best ways to survive in a collapsed society. They'd been a disconcerting but interesting break on the days when he just needed to do something other than ward studies during his captivity. At the time he'd hoped he'd never need the knowledge, "No actually I'd do it today."

"Today?" both older men both asked at the same time and then looked at each other before looking at him again.

"Yea today, we're already a little behind the eight ball." When both men still looked confused he sighed and slouched back into his seat. "It's a basic take over strategy, go after the supplies. You get control of the supplies, you get control over the people who want the supplies. Wyatt's been planning this for years and he knows that. Now things are still a little chaotic, I'm guessing, so there's a chance for us to build a stockpile, but that window of opportunity is basically gone. We need to do serious supply raids today for it to be effective."

"Where did you even learn to think like this?" Michael asked, his face completely stunned. His grandfather too looked shocked at the efficient manner he laid out their problem and how to solve it.

"My brother and reading," he sighed, his mouth now a grim line, "my friends made me the captain of our team and I didn't want to let them down so I read strategy books. I've also had a lot of free time lately to plan for worst-case scenarios. Apparently I have a talent for it." Then Chris frowned, the look in his eyes darkened, "It was something Wyatt used to help me with both then and in our training sessions. I think he was tryin' to-to groom me. From what I understand he wanted me to be a general, perhaps thegeneral, in his little empire."

"Well lucky for us he fucked that up." The head whitelighter sat down heavily and then rubbed his face. Chris raised an eyebrow at the curse but said nothing. "So, how do you think these raids should be organized? I only ask because I don't have a mind like you Halliwells seem to. Case and point, like he said Prue's been the one organizing the retrievals so far. She can be terrifyingly sneaky when she wants to be, but she's out scouting for survivors currently."

"Well there are twenty of you," he said thoughtfully tapping a pen on the table as he glared at it, plans forming in his mind. He could almost see the teams working and their stockpile growing in his mind's eye. Several of his ideas he nixed almost immediately, but others he filed away for later. His mind, working fully again, computed his options, and found the best solutions with his resources. He'd been silent for a while, but still, they waited patiently, and Chris decided to give them his best plan.

"Five teams of four should work, get in, get some supplies, orb your caches to the clearing outside in less than ten minutes give or take, and then move to the next source. With those wards I gave you, and the illusion outside you'll be able to have several people orb back and forth multiple times while the rest put together piles to take. Basically get as much as possible in the shortest time possible Hell, orb entire racks of stuff if you need to. For food take things packed with protein and nutrients so we can eat less of it, energy bars, and sports drinks are a must. Definitely hit multiple places like Costco or Walmart, I have seals that can keep food magically fresh so don't worry about that. I suggest big chains in nowhere towns, they're more likely to still have supplies and be unguarded, at least by Wyatt's people."

"Those sound like promising ideas," his grandfather commented and Michael nodded at the man.

"Yea, and hitting up vitamin stores like GM wouldn't be a bad idea either and we definitely need to get things for vanquishing potions. Waters not a problem with the freshwater spring half a mile from here, but we'll need filters, lots of 'em, so a sporting good store like Dicks should probably be on your list…actually I remember Brandon's dad saying LL Bean has some of the best quality stuff, things that take a beating and last a long time. New England's best for that. Grab as many camping supplies, solar chargers, and clothes as you can, shoes too if you can manage it. We'll need medical supplies but stay away from hospitals, head to small-town pharmacies, or smaller doctors' offices. Grab whatever you can to treat wounds and whatever medicine is in reach...and…I can't think of anything else at the moment. Furniture and things like that we can get later, that won't be guarded for a while, if he even bothers."

Victor and Michael stared at the teenager, to the point that he was becoming uncomfortable, then Michael snorted, "And here we've just been just running in and out of Costco for whatever supplies we can get…You know what I'm just going to thank whatever power put you on our side and then call the others back to tell them the plan."

The angel stood up and quickly left the room to start the plan leaving him alone with his grandfather, "It amazes me sometimes how much like them you are. Not awake ten minutes and already you're forming strategies."

"What?"

"The girls, all four of them, but Prue in a lot of ways," he smiled sadly, his eyes wistful, "She's always been quick to find the best way to do something, a general that one."

He smiled sadly at the older man before standing. It was nice to hear that he inherited more than just his looks and powers from the Halliwell line. Now he had to put into action the supply raid he hadn't wanted to tell Michael about, the whitelighter would have only fought him on it, "I'm going to go get changed and then see if there's something I can do to help."

Victor waved him off then went back to his census building as he slipped out of the room.

Next Time: Chris forms a team and admits a few things to someone else.