He did it for me
Chapter 4
By: teal-lover
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Being twice blessed, Wyatt thought that nothing could ever hurt him. It's devastating to find out how wrong you can be. Takes place in the future that Chris changed.
Chris just turned 19, and Wyatt is three months shy of his 21st birthday.
Disclaimer in chapter 1
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Chris stared at the stranger in shock, "I'm dead?"
Sarcastically, "You're a real genius aren't you? You know, you've quite possibly completely screwed things up…"
Rising to his feet, Chris pointed to himself defensively, "Me? What did I do? And you didn't answer my question. Who are you?…"
"You died! THAT'S what you did! And what about Wyatt? Just what do you think is going to happen now? This is how he lost it before and went all psycho on the world--destroying everything in his path! After everything I did to fix this, you get careless and--"
The rambling voice was interrupted by stronger voice who strolled in angrily, spinning him around, "Stop right there young man! You leave him alone. It's not his fault! Now apologize!"
"But grams--" he whined.
"I don't want to hear it Christopher! It's not his fault, just like it was not yours. Now apologize." The older woman looked at him sternly as she tapped her foot.
The brown-haired, green-eyed witch-whitelighter pouted as he turned to Chris, "Sorry" he mumbled reluctantly.
Grams nodded appreciatively and spoke to him again, "Christopher, dear. Why don't you go and find your Aunt Prue and Grandma Patty--let me handle our newest young arrival. You know how difficult something like this can be. It's going to take some explaining. Now run along dear. I'll find you later…" She shooed him along with her hands as he turned back to glare at the new arrival several times.
The new arrival waited till the other was out of sight before he turned to the familiar woman, "Grams? It's really you?"
Embracing him warmly, she answered "Yes dear. I know it's been awhile since I've seen you, but your mother hadn't summoned me--so I just couldn't show up on my own."
As a frightened voice took over, he asked shyly, "Did I really die? All I remember was a sharp pain in my chest for like, only a second, before I woke up here."
Nodding her head sadly, "Yes, you did. But it's not your fault. It was very unexpected. None of us were even aware of the situation until it was too late."
"How's my family gonna' take this? And what about Wy? And that guy--What did he mean? Who is he? Why does he look like me? Sound like me?"
"You know I was always against not telling you boys about what happened just before you were born, but that really wasn't my decision."
"Tell us what?" he asked in confusion.
"I know this is going to be hard to believe, but that young man you just met is--well, he's you. He is Christopher Perry Halliwell."
Shocked, the young man screamed "HE'S WHAT!"
Penny wrapped her arms around her "other" grandson as she led him down a hallway, "Well it all started almost 15 months before you were born…"
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Phoebe didn't need to ask any questions. It was obvious from her nephews lifeless and limp form that she had arrived much too late. She didn't know what to say, so she walked unsteadily over to her sister currently holding her son. Kneeling behind her, she wrapped her arms around the grieving mother. "I'm so sorry, Piper. I tried to get here in time…"
Leo leaned up against the wall away from the others with his knees drawn up to his chest. "I was too late…"
Paige stood motionless in the center of the floor as she watched on. "We can fix this right? Leo? Please tell me we can fix this…"
Leo glanced up at his youngest sister-in-law through the tears in his own eyes. "I don't know how yet. But I can't go through this again. I CAN NOT loose him again. The Elders…They owe us. They owe him." He stood up determinedly and walked over to his wife, "Piper…"
Piper glanced up then tightened her grip on her son, as if that act in itself would somehow bring him back.
Leo bent down and tried to move her, "Piper, please let me take him up to the others. Maybe they can do something…"
Piper shoved her husband away angrily and screamed at him, "GET AWAY FROM ME!"
Phoebe tried to reason with her sister, "Please Piper? Let him take Chris. Maybe they can help. I don't want to loose him either, but the longer we wait, the more chance there will be of no turning back."
Piper shook her head adamantly, "NO! I'm not leaving my son. So do whatever you have to do, but I…Am…Not…Leaving…Him!"
Leo grew angry himself, "DAMN IT, PIPER! You know that they will not let you up there! He doesn't stand a chance if you go! NOW LET GO!"
Phoebe tried another tactic at her sister's unresponsiveness, "Piper? Do you want you son back? Because if you do, then you have to let him go. Just for a little while, honey. Please?"
Piper's body shook with sobs as her sister gradually pried her fingers from Chris's shirt. She cried harder as her eyes fell upon her bloodstained hands.
Leo took the opportunity to lift his youngest son as soon as she relinquished her hold. Before orbing out, he turned to his wife, "We're gonna' get him back, Piper. I promise."
Phoebe sat down and tried her best to comfort her older sister who seemed inconsolable. Paige soon joined the other Charmed Ones, and together, they wept and shared their grief.
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Back at Sheila's house, Wyatt orbed them both into her living room. As soon as they touched ground, she immediately took his hand and led him to her bedroom. "Sit down," she commanded softly.
While he sat down heavily, she sat down next to him and took his hand. "Do you remember that picture that's on your mom's dresser? The one of you playing with blocks at about two years old?" Wyatt nodded. "I wouldn't normally ask you to do this, but these are not normal circumstances. Can you orb that picture here, right now?"
Wyatt complied and materialized the picture into his hands. He held it out to her unquestioningly as she directed him to look at it. "What am I supposed to be seeing? It's just a picture of me when I was little."
Smiling softly, she walked over to her closet and pulled down a small fire safe box. She reached around her neck and pulled out a chain that contained the key to the box, then opened it for him to see inside.
As Wyatt sifted through the contents, he pulled out a picture frame hiding near the bottom of the box. He was surprised to find the back of the picture labeled with his brother's name. Turning it over, he found the exact same picture as the one he had just removed from his mother's room—with one major difference. His eyes widened questioningly as his head shot up to look at her. "That's Chris! And me. But I'm only a kid. How is this possible?"
Wyatt watched her curiously as she took the picture from him and caressed it lovingly before putting it back into the box. "You know, your mom—wanted to get rid of that, but I insisted on keeping it. So she had Paige cast a spell on the one from her room to remove him from the picture. She didn't want you boys to be burdened with knowing what happened. But under these circumstances, I think it's something you need to know."
Wyatt, "I don't get it Aunt Sheila. What is this? What are they so afraid of? And how can this be Chris?"
Sheila sighed sadly, "Because this Chris was from another timeline. Another possible future. Somehow, in his future—you were led down the wrong path. And he loved you so much, that he wanted to change that for you—to give you the life you deserve. He came back to the past--to save his family. To save you, Wyatt. And that meant everything to him."
"Why wouldn't he tell me that he went back?"
Sheila calmly tried to explain, "Because this is not the same Chris that you grew up with. But he still is—was your brother."
Looking confused, he asked, "What do you mean WAS?"
Sheila stared at the picture sadly as she traced the outline of his form, "Because he died the same day that YOUR Chris was born. He was murdered while trying to save your life."
"Then it is my fault! I killed them both…"
Sheila shook her head emphatically, "No, that's not true. It's not your fault. You are not responsible for this. The only responsibility you have is to continue fighting on the side of good, but not out of anger or revenge. It's not what either of them would have wanted."
Wyatt looked horrified as he mimicked her, "Wait, you said "Down the wrong path"…That's what you meant down there, isn't it? I'm as evil as the demons that killed him?"
"NO! You are not! You are a wonderful person, who is hurting terribly right now. That's not why I'm telling you this. Nobody's blaming you for what happened, Wyatt! Chris knew the risks when he made the choice to come back here. He was willing to sacrifice everything because he loved you so much. It was his gift to you. Don't you see? You have the opportunity to accept the gift he gave you and use it the way it was intended. If you continue down the path of anger and hatred, then you will end up becoming what he came back to prevent. Your brother will have died for nothing."
Wyatt shrank into the bed despondently, "How am I supposed to keep fighting? How can I do this alone?"
At least for now, she knew he had heard all he could tolerate at the moment. He wasn't ready for anymore tonight. As his godmother that he always turned to when he had a problem, she was one of the few people who understood the mental strains that had been placed on him as the "Twice-Blessed" child. So much more was expected of him, but he had always found the comfort of sharing that burden with his younger brother. Sheila watched her godson sinking deeper into depression, and it had only been a few hours. She shuddered to think of what would become of the young man as time went on.
No, she decided. She wouldn't tell him anymore tonight. It was a lot to take in for anyone, but for him doubly so. And it had to have been difficult for him to learn the truth, but she hoped it was enough to hold him back from the edge of insanity—or worse. Evil.
Sheila coaxed him gently under the blankets, "You need to sleep for a while. I'll be here when you wake up. I promise. Now sleep." She reached over to turn off the lamp and saw him struggling to close his eyes. Hoping that it would have the same calming effect as when she babysat him as child, she smoothed his hair back rhythmically as she listened for the telltale signs of his deep, even breathing. As it came, she smiled and watched his reflection in the moonlight. Glinting off the desk in the corner was the picture from the lockbox. Her smile soon faded as she bit her lip, silently debating whether or not to inform him of what lie underneath the decades old photo. 'Oh well,' she thought. 'That's for another day.'
Tbc…
