Mistake
Chapter Six
23 years in the future
Chris was asleep. The effects of his allergic reaction would take another few hours to where off, and he had succumbed to the darkness once again after Wyatt's surprising introduction.
After leaving Bianca to guard the young boy, Wyatt had retired to his lair.
Yes, Wyatt had the foresight to have kept Bianca alive. In all truth, he had not wanted to cause his brother any undue grief in regards to his fiance's death. He had fully intended to alert the boy to his fiance's continued existence when Chris had returned to the future, come to his senses, and agreed to join him.
Bianca had proven difficult after her betrayal, weary of trusting the man who had put up such a show of trying to kill his own brother. He had told her in no uncertain terms that he did not require her loyalty, as he had other ways to ensure her obedience.
Chris, for example. While Bianca would not let anything happened to her youthful lover, she also could not escape with him. Wyatt had anti-orbing and shimmering spells lacerated across his lodgings, and there was not a chance in hell of anyone, save for his brother, who could break them. And Chris was in no fit state to do so at present. Which made Bianca the perfect watch-dog.
Wyatt paced in his underground lair. The pieces had all been set in motion. His brother was confused. It would take little urging to convince the young boy that Wyatt had to work with demons for the betterment of the world. As long as he could keep the boy isolated until that point, away from outside influences.
Wyatt suddenly sensed another demon in the room with him and spun around sneeringly to face his Watcher.
"What is it?" he snapped impatiently.
"The resistance is aware of the boy's presence m'lord," the Watcher answered. Wyatt cursed. That would seriously complicate his plans if they attempted any type of "rescue" mission.
"Are they aware of his current state?" Wyatt questioned, referring to his brothers recent bout of youthfulness.
"Not to my knowledge m'lord," the demon answered.
"You had best find out," Wyatt said before dismissing the demon with a wave of his hand.
The Resistance was an annoyance, but it could be easily handled. There were larger complications...such as the Charmed Ones. If he knew his aunts and mother, he knew that they wouldn't let an innocent seven year old remain with demons, no matter what time he was in.
Hopefully the Harpies could make sure that they did not become a problem.
Prue was driving her crazy.
Piper was currently settled on the couch in the conservatory with Wyatt nestled on her lap, the book on her leg, and Prue ranting and raving nonstop in her abused ear.
The Guardian, of course, had sensed the minute her charge had left the time dimension, and, unable to follow, she feared the worst.
Phoebe sat across from her, eyes narrowed in thought, blocking out Prue's voice. Piper envied her that ability.
Phoebe was writing a spell, but, unfortunately, and much to Prue's disdain, not for Chris' benefit. As much as they were all concerned for the Whitelighter's safety, he was not, at the moment, their top priority.
The Harpies were causing mayhem in San Francisco. They were preying on the supposed 'evil doer'. So far, four petty thieves, two common muggers, and one thirteen year old bully had been found dead.
"Don't you see?" Prue said angrily. "You are being distracted. The Harpies are only a distraction while he does God Knows What to Chris?"
This seemed to snap Phoebe out of her apparent trance. "While who does what to Chris?"
"It's not my place to say," Prue responded, extremely despondent.
Piper snorted. "It's a little too late to claim you're not involved, don't you think?" She stood up, placed Wyatt in his playpen and turned to regard Prue. "Distraction or not, the Harpies are killing relatively innocent people. They need to be stopped. We will worry about Chris immediately after."
Prue just shook her head. "It may be too late by then. Concentrate on Chris now. The Harpies can't do too much damage in the past or it could ruin their future."
Piper stared at her deceased sister, shocked. Phoebe shook her head, sighed, and blocked out the escalating argument in the room. "You would have us abandon innocents? For the sake of one boy we know nothing about?"
Prue was irate. "If you would just look past your stubbornness and see what was right in front of you we wouldn't be in this mess. Chris has done nothing but help your family and in your refusal to trust him, you could very well have condemned him to death."
Piper looked at her sister sharply, paling dramatically. "Condemned him to death?" she asked in a whisper.
"If who I think has Chris does, then yes, he may kill him," Prue answered sadly. "And if Chris is dead then there will be no one left to protect Wyatt. Is that what you want?"
Piper's eyes glazed over slightly and Prue took pity on her sister. "If you can do nothing else, trust that Chris came back with good intentions, even if he can't tell you what they are." She looked Piper in the eye.
"He's a good man Piper," she said. "He's lived a hard life, even from an early age, but he's never given into evil. He's extraordinarily powerful, but he's never been corrupted by that power, and he's been given plenty of opportunities to do so. I know this family Piper. I know that you must be suspicious by nature in order to survive. I understand that you keep the doors to your heart and home tightly shut. But take this, as my word as your sister, that Chris is not a threat to you. Opening up and trusting him will not be your downfall. But Piper, not trusting him could cost you your son."
The room flashed and the Guardian disappeared, abandoning Piper to her turbulent thoughts.
23 years in the future
Wyatt hurried to his brother's room. Bianca had sent him an urgent summons via messenger demon. His brother had awoken. And the seven-year-old was not pleased.
He stormed into the room carelessly and then his step faltered as he surveyed the scene of destruction before him. The bunk was splayed on its side, the sheets which had covered it lay in tangled disarray across the room. The lamp, which he had allowed for light, knowing his brother's fear of the dark, had been thrown against t;he wall, and the shattered glass had spread across the floor. The only light came from Chris' hand as he held an energy ball while simultaneously using his telekinesisto keep his Phoenix guard pinned against the wall.
Despite the sake of things, Wyatt felt a wry smile tug at his lips. The boy's powers were far more formidable than he had previously believed. Chris would be a powerful ally.
"Christopher," Wyatt said sternly, face melting back into a model of impassivity. "Release her immediately."
"Who are you?" the child demanded, voice wavering almost imperceptible.
"I've already told you who I am," Wyatt snapped back with a touch of impatience, and watched in satisfaction as Chris shrank back but did not relinquish his hold on the Phoenix or the energy ball. "Or perhaps you've forgotten," Wyatt allowed, almost gently.
"You're not Wyatt," Chris said with assured clarity. "My brother does not consort with demons or live in the Underworld."
Wyatt sighed. He had forgotten how stubborn his brother could be. He waved his hand and Chris was forced back a few paces, losing his hold on bianca and his concentration as his energy ball abruptly blinked out of existence, casting the room in momentary darkness.
Wyatt immediately put up his shield, illuminating the room. He did this both to ease Chris' fears of the dark and show that he possessed the Wiccan powers of Wyatt Matthew Halliwell.
Chris looked confused and still frightened. Bianca had picked herself up and was monitoring the wielder of Excalibur with a weary gaze. Wyatt ignored her and focused on Chris.
"What did I tell you about using magic Christopher?" He demanded with false anger knowing it was what Chris expected to hear from his protective older brother after such a display.
He looked at the younger Halliwell expectantly, awaiting the boy's response. "Well?" he growled softly, almost threateningly as he had when a child.
Chris seemed to recognize that this was, in fact, his brother at his tone. The seven-year-old looked down, ashamed of himself, scoffing his feet on the floor. "That it only gets me into trouble," he admitted softly.
"Exactly,"Wyatt nodded. "So don't use it unless I tell you too ok? I know best."
It was an old game he played with his brother now. Fearing his brother's powers and recognizing the threat which resided within him, Wyatt had relied on Chris' natural dependency on him to control him. He preyed on that dependency now and felt a wave of relief pass through him at Chris' quick agreement.
It would make him easier to control.
Leo tracked the Harpy sisters as stealthily as was possible. He had been doing so ever since they had murdered the thirteen-year-old bully. So far, they hadn't made any more attempts on human evil doers and were flying almost lazily above the San Francisco Bay, higher up than any mortals could see, thankfully.
Truthfully, there was precious little he could do should the Harpies choose to attack, save for fetching the sisters to fight them off, best they could. Right now he was banking on the sister's completing their spell and potion.
Although they knew that they couldn't destroy the Harpies, the fact that the present times Harpies were currently caged up, revealed that they could contain them, which was what the spell and potion were for.
They also hoped that capturing the Harpies would lead them to Chris' location. They still didn't know who were leading the Harpies, or why they were after Chris.
Thinking of Chris pulled at the strings of Leo's heart. It was true that the twenty-three-year-old version of Chris tended to get on Leo's nerves with his secrecy, constant planning and plotting, and, of course, his overly neurotic attitude. But the seven-year-old version of his wife's whitelighter was none of those. He was a beaten child, eyes heavy with age though small in body, and an innocence and vulnerability which just begged for trust.
To imagine Chris now, trapped by some sadistic demon for purposes unknown, made Leo red with anger and worry. No child should have to endure what Chris had already endured, never mind being kidnapped by some modern day Bosch incarnation.
He recognized the Harpies as a distraction, albeit one that had to be stopped, and felt his anger turn up a notch. Why did whoever had Chris, want him? He knew the boy was extremely powerful, but why, when the Harpies had the obvious advantage, did they nab Chris, when Wyatt lay in relatively less protection nearby? Surely Chris couldn't be more powerful than Wyatt?
He pushed that thought quickly out of his head as unlikely. There must be another reason. Perhaps the demon who had him planned to use him as emotional blackmail on the sisters? But then, Wyatt would work even better in that respect. Besides, the Harpies were from the future, so their employer must be from the future as well.
Perhaps the one the Harpies worked for had a grudge with Chris? Chris had told him that the time he lived in was practically overrun with demons and that he and a few others often fought them off. Maybe Chris had done this one some sort of harm?
But how had the demon known that this would be the perfect opportunity to attack? When Chris was at his most vulnerable, and the sisters were unable to know what kind of threats they would face?
Leo just shook his head as he followed the Harpies down to the Underworld and hoped to get some answers.
He would never let his son face the horrors that Chris had.
23 years in the future
Wyatt observed his brother carefully. As Bianca could obviously not monitor the boy effectively, the Demon Lord had brought Chris along on his daily rounds.
Up to this point it had been the standard routine. He had signed off on various projects in the mortal world, though he did not elaborate on what these projects entailed to Chris. He was painfully aware at how much Chris could take in one sitting, and knew it was not the time to expose his brother fully to Wyatt's lifestyle. The time would come soon enough.
The demons who had seen Chris today, most of whom were in human form, had blanched and gone about their business much quicker than usual. Chris, unknowingly, was powerful at motivating fear amongst demons.
None of the demons had been told of Chris' presence, but as the Resistance was somehow already aware of the fact, there was little harm in showing Chris a small part of the world that was now Wyatt's.
His demons had almost instinctively known how Chris was. The witch had given the Underworld a fair share of trouble before his rendezvous into the past, and had gained somewhat of a reputation. Now, seeing a child in Wyatt's presence, and recognizing the power which emanated from him, easily realized who the boy was.
Chris was dressed in a black shirt and nice black dress pants, which fitted him nicely and made him somewhat imposing. More importantly, he matched Wyatt, and that showed the visiting demons exactly to whom the boy payed his allegiance.
Bianca was situated across the main hall, watching Chris intently. Chris was aware of her staring and kept shifting uncomfortably. Wyatt left the two to it.
The Phoenix Witch was dressed in her usual assassin's outfit and had her hair held tightly back. Still, as dangerous as she looked, she seemed to cause Chris no little fascination. He seemed drawn to her somehow, and the assassin let that thought fill her with warmth. Even as a child, her lover recognized his feelings, even if he didn't exactly know what they meant.
Though Wyatt didn't know it, it was she who had informed the Resistance of Chris' presence, using a telepathic link she shared with one of the leaders. Chris had taught her this technique before he had left for the past, and Wyatt knew nothing of it.
The Resistance was forming a plan of attack to distract Wyatt long enough to get Chris out of his presence, but the rest would be up to her. She would be responsible for getting the boy to safety and to Resistance headquarters. Which meant she had to gain the boy's trust.
And that, noting the child's loyalty to his older brother, would be much more difficult than it sounded.