A Future Remolded
Final Chapter
Disclaimer: (sighs) The story's over and I still don't own Charmed. Aw....
FINAL CHAPPIE—DEAL WITH IT!!
Tears ran down his cheeks as he ran. Puddles splashed at his feet and the light rain from that afternoon had turned into a ferocious storm, water pounding on his head. His hand-me-downs were soaked but he didn't notice, sloshing through the dark, empty San Francisco roads. He saw a pair of headlights a half a mile away with his extraordinary vision and jumped out of the way, running into an alley.
When he stopped he gasped for air as his body wracked with angry, frustrated sobs. He didn't belong anywhere. He was a freak at the orphanage and a monster with this new family. All he wanted to do was crawl into a hole and cease to exist. Everything he did was wrong, wrong, wrong. He only caused trouble.
The car had passed now. He peeked out of the alley, eyes still blurry with tears, and tried to make sense of the signs. He knew he was miles away from the Halliwell manor by now, though he had no idea what direction he'd gone in. It wasn't hard for him. Even at the orphanage, he'd always been the quickest and fastest.
Now he seemed to be completely lost. The street names were utterly unrecognizable and foreign to him. He let out another muffled sob before he tore off into the streets again.
How could Leo say that about him? He trusted him. Chris had trusted that Leo understood. If he hadn't understood, why did he heal Chris in the first place? Let him live, give him a home, love him like Wyatt?
Maybe he was lying. Maybe Chris wasn't his son at all! Maybe Leo was evil and was trying to turn Chris evil, too! And Wyatt and Mel!
But Piper and Phoebe and Paige were such nice people. Could they be in on it, too? No, he decided. He was jumping to conclusions. Leo wasn't evil, he was just stupid.
And besides. He'd met himself before he was killed in a different life. He knew that that Chris wasn't fake; he felt the connection right away. Plus, his dreams were obviously real. Wyatt was definitely his brother. So what was he supposed to do? Just sit here? Maybe he could go back to orphanage, lie and pretend that he was alive and the doctors brought him back to life. Tears welled in his eyes and feel freely. There was no way he could make them believe that they'd brought a dead person back to life.
Suddenly he stopped dead in his tracks. There was a building to his left on the sidewalk. He crossed over to it and traced a finger along the brick walls, then gasped as a memory flooded through him.
A boy, nine years old, stood in front of the building. He was wearing a blue-striped shirt and Gap pants similar to Wyatt's, Chris noted. He had brown hair. Chris tried to see the boy's face, but couldn't since he was behind him.
"Who are you?" Chris whispered.
The boy didn't answer. He traced a finger on the brick wall as Chris had a moment ago and sniffled, rubbing a burn mark on his arm.
Then Chris looked around. It was daylight, but everything was black and white. It was another memory from the first timeline, he realized. And it was terrifying. Shattered glass lay around the street, the buildings were damaged and it seemed the entire city was wilting and depressed. Sirens wailed vaguely in the distance but otherwise it was eerily quiet.
He looked down at the streets and saw people laying all over, motionless.
Dead.
The boy finally moved, limping in through the front door of the building. The place was empty, run-down, looking as if it might collapse at any given moment. But the boy walked on, shivering in the cold, until he came upon the remnants of an elevator. He hit the "up" button and waited for it to come.
Chris was surprised the elevator was working with things in this state, but he was too curious about the boy to say anything.
"Who are you?" he repeated.
To his shock, the boy turned to him. His face was identical to Chris', brown hair, big brown eyes filled with fright. But there was a bleeding gash on his left cheek.
"I knew you'd come," said the boy. "You're me."
"But...how can you hear me?" asked Chris.
"I'm showing you what might have been. You saved the world. WE saved the world," he added.
"But...you're dead."
"Not here. I live forever in my memories," said the boy wistfully. "The ghost of this time. My spirit, older Chris, moved on. You saw him. But I stayed here to protect our time. I am Chris. I am you. I've been showing you and Wyatt fragments of our pasts to make sure that the memory never dies away. The past should never be forgotten...I am now the keeper of time. I keep it safe through you and Wyatt."
"Thank you," Chris found himself whisper.
"No, thank you. You're the chosen one. You have the power I was supposed to have." The boy looked down. "You want to know why Wyatt was so almighty in my time? He stole my powers and used them for evil."
Chris didn't say anything.
"I had much more power, right from the start. That's because we were able to handle it. The only ones able to handle it. There was too much good magic floating free in the atmosphere and it lodged itself in us since we were the ones that were worthy, not Wyatt." He paused. "The power drove him mad."
"I'm sorry."
"It's all right now. Remember that."
Chris nodded and felt the wind hit him hard, pulling him back.
When he opened his eyes he was sprawled out on the tile floor of the building. It was night and still raining, and the color had returned. His hand flew up to his left cheek and he felt the trickle of warm blood on his fingers. Just like the boy.
The back of his head throbbed from his fall. He groaned, rubbing it, and stood up. His body shook all over. Whatever that was had just drained him of his energy completely. He took in a shuddering breath, remembering the information. So...he was a chosen for this power?
Then didn't the elders REALIZE that? Why were they so eager to get rid of him?
And then it hit him. The keeper of time, his replica, had said that Wyatt stole his powers BEFORE he was nine years old. How else would the keeper know? He was only nine, too. Meaning that the element of danger was over. He'd be safe with Wyatt now, because they were both older. The elders knew that. That's why they hadn't come after him yet.
Except Gideon. But Gideon was crazy. He wanted revenge, and it came at a price.
Chris felt confident now that things would be okay. But he had another problem at hand: getting home. He walked outside and closed his eyes, willing his orbing power to work on command for once—
He choked and gasped, crying out in surprise, before he fell back on his knees and hit the concrete. He moaned, his eyes starting to blacken in pain. He'd been hit from behind by something, straight in the stomach. He felt the point of an arrow and turned around to see him.
The bounty-hunter.
"No..." Chris whispered, watching the blood gush from the wound.
"My master said he'd rather have you dead if you wouldn't cooperate," the man hissed, shimmering out.
Chris collapsed, falling unconscious on the cold ground.
"Wyatt, I'm leaving," said the little brown-haired boy feebly. There were tears in his eyes and he was speaking to a blonde boy. "I can't stand it. You're evil and you know it! I can't sit here and watch you kill innocents!" he cried.
Wyatt only laughed, chanting a spell. The spell became louder and the house seemed to shake. The brown haired boy screamed and leapt back, falling over onto the dresser. His head banged it and his eyes closed as he went limp on the floor. Wyatt raised his hands, cackling, as a cloud of energy burst from Chris and flew into him.
It was powers. Chris' powers.
"You see, Chris, things are better this way. Better when I have the power." He orbed away.
The little boy got up, rubbing his head. "No," he moaned, "no, no, no..." He orbed, too—heading for the building of bricks in the middle of nowhere. Heading towards Bianca's apartment.
Heading where, in another time, he'd be meeting himself in another timeline to inform his replica about the horrors of Wyatt's evil.
There was a trickle of blood running down the gash on his left cheek.
Wyatt gasped, shooting up in bed. It was light outside, a Sunday morning. He tried to interpret the dream...and then it all came back. He stole Chris' powers when Chris was nine and he was eleven in the other timeline. He almost killed him!
He held in a short cry and shuddered.
"Wyatt! Chris! Breakfast is ready!" called Piper from downstairs.
Wyatt looked over at his little brother's bed, wondering why he wasn't awake yet. Normally Chris was up earlier than this.
But the bed was empty.
'He probably just went downstairs,' Wyatt thought. But as he went down to dinner, he felt a strong sense of foreboding. Something was wrong.
He sat down at the table. Piper had made scones and Paige and Leo and Phoebe all sat near him, waiting to eat. He found it odd that Phoebe was here without Jason and Mel, but didn't look into it.
"Where's Chris?" he asked casually.
"He's not up in your room?" asked Piper worriedly.
Wyatt shook his head. "I thought..."
"Chris!" Piper called. "Chris, where are you? Chris!" She set down the scones and headed up the stairs to find him.
Paige and Phoebe exchanged worried glances before following her. "Check the bridge," Phoebe ordered Leo, who'd gone white and pale. He nodded, orbing out.
"Chris!" Wyatt shouted, looking around downstairs when he finally came to his senses. "CHRIS!"
By now the sisters had thoroughly checked the upstairs. They came back down, frantic and panicking. There were tears in Piper's eyes.
"He's...gone," Paige choked.
Leo orbed back. "Not on the bridge," he reported. He saw the sisters' faces. "You haven't found him?" he cried.
"Sense for him!" Phoebe said urgently.
Leo complied, closing his eyes. If possible, his face went even paler. "Oh my god," he whispered. He grabbed their hands and orbed out.
Bianca pressed down on the elevator button, excited that she'd get to take a walk in the moonlight. The moonlight was the best time for phoenixes to think, to practice magic. Though she wouldn't practice magic in public on a simple walk to the park, she loved seeing the moon.
Suddenly she felt dizzy as the elevator went down. She opened her eyes. Why was everything black and white, run down and scary-looking? She blinked rapidly and the image faded, color returned, and the safety and comfort was restored. She sighed. Just another memory of that twisted timeline.
Only now she had proof it was real, meeting Chris and Wyatt.
The elevator stopped and she set foot out of it, then gasped, hiding behind a large plant.
There was a boy, crumpled up on the floor and bleeding. He was moaning in pain, a darklighter arrow wedged deep in his gut. "No..."
"My master said he'd rather have you dead if you wouldn't cooperate," hissed a horrid looking man, shimmering away.
Bianca ran up to the little boy, trying to get a look at his face. Her scream pierced the night as a thousand memories shot through her in his eyes. Her lover, her best friend, her happiness, the reason she breathed; and yet she'd never met him.
But if he died, she'd never be able to live without him.
All these feelings and knowledge she'd never realized in her life flooded her. And she knew without reason that she had to do something.
"LEO!" she shrieked. "LEO, GET IN HERE NOW!" Who was Leo? Why was she calling this name?
Oh, but she was so relieved to hear the familiar jingle and see the blue lights. But something in her snapped when she saw this man. Oh yeah...she hated him. But she stepped aside. He'd help.
"Chris..." he gasped. Time seemed to freeze. Wyatt and the Charmed Ones were beside him in shock.
"Heal him, dammit! What the hell is wrong with you?" she screamed. Whoa. She never had a vocabulary that powerful before. Wait—the arrow! That's why he couldn't heal him! She flinched, pulling out the arrow. Chris let out a low moan, but remained limp at her side.
She stood to make room for Leo, and was shocked to see the her jeans were drenched in Chris' blood. By now Lynn, her mother, had arrived.
"I saw the past in one of my visions," Lynn whispered, barely audible. Only Bianca could hear. "The replica of the Keeper of Time."
"Please be okay," Leo was sobbing.
"He heard you, Leo!" Phoebe was shrieking. "He heard us talking! He heard what you said—oh dammit, Leo, he heard every word..." Obviously, as a telepath (I mentioned that in the second chapter for those of you who forgot), she was picking up his thoughts.
Chris gasped for air and looked up at Leo, sobbing while his lungs tore. "I'm—I'm sorry—I d-didn't mean to—" He broke down in sobs.
Leo wrapped him in a hug. "It's not your fault, Chris. We love you. And I am so, so, sorry..." He took a deep breath as the tears ran down his cheeks.
The cut on Chris' was still there. It wouldn't heal. It would be a scar...a battle scar.
"I love you so much," Leo said.
"I love you too."
Sorry, folks, but that's the end! I'm going to focus on finishing two of my other stories now and maybe come up with a newer one later. I've got a pretty cool idea already, so don't worry! But I DO have to catch up on school work.
Sorry if this confused you in any way, shape, or form. My writing can be confusing sometimes! As you all know...
Thanks for all the reviews and digital baked goods!! YOU ALL ROCK!! YAY FOR YOU, YOU SPECIAL PEOPLE!
-Pink-Charmed-One-
