He did it for me

Chapter 19

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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When the two boys arrived at Wyatt's chosen destination, Chris immediately recognized his surroundings. He had spent a few short weeks hiding out from his brother's minions at the cabin; at least in his future. His Uncle Darryl and Aunt Sheila had secretly purchased the remote property in the mountains of Utah to get away from Wyatt's dominion. Though there was in actuality no real place on earth that hadn't been considered as his, he still had areas that he had considered insignificant and undeserving of his attention. It was remote, undetectable, and most importantly—unknown to most. Which is exactly why the cabin had appealed to the couple in this timeline, and exactly the reason that Wyatt now chose it as well. "We'll be safe here, even Mom and Dad don't know about this place yet. And since it's getting late, we should try to get some sleep soon so we'll be ready just in case…" he told his younger brother as he rushed around the cabin flicking on the lights and fireplace, making sure they were alone.

As soon as he verified that the room was secure, he raised his shield and extended it to encompass the interior of the cabin. Quickly flipping through the pages of the Book, he found and recited the spell he had been directed to. He frowned in consternation when the shield flickered for a moment before vanishing entirely, having never before seen the blue boundary disappear. Except when it was inactive. Though it was strange, he thought, because he still felt it.

Wyatt raced over to the exit and flung open the door, then hesitated as he gingerly poked his fingers through the open space. His lips curled up into a smile as he was stopped by an invisible barrier, but the feeling of familiarity told him that it was merely his own shield. "Alright Grams!" he muttered to himself in appreciation of her cloaking spell. He spun around excitedly, "Chris! Look at this!"

His expression now devoid of the gleeful air, Wyatt called the boy's name in concern, finally taking notice that he had yet to move from the spot they landed in. Approaching cautiously, he followed the green-eyed blank stare directed at the crackling embers of the fireplace.

As the flames danced off the reflection in Chris' eyes, bright with unshed tears, he noticed that the hue of their color was remarkably different in the last several hours. Darker, and most assuredly more intense. He knew that his own tended to change when he was distressed, but he had never even detected a hint of anything affecting the brother he grew up with so strongly. But the green eyes before him now, spoke volumes of untold pain and horror. And he knew what had caused this latest affliction. He cursed his aunts name under his breath quietly.

Wyatt touched his forearm, calling the young man's name again, "Chris…I know she didn't mean it."

"I told you they hated me," came the soft-spoken response.

"No, Chris. It's just—"

He turned around to face the older man slowly, "That I'm not him. Never will be."

Wyatt tried his best to offer comfort, "It doesn't matter," he began, then cursed himself as he unintentionally repeated the very words that brought up the issue.

Chris replied with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, "That seems to be a popular phrase these days. But you're right, and so is Phoebe. It doesn't matter. I don't matter. You heard her Wy—there's a better version of me out there. Just waiting to be saved." The bitterness he had initially felt at the situation was gone, only to be replaced by a saddened acceptance. He turned and headed up the stairs for one of the second-level bedrooms. "So you need to go do that, Wyatt. Don't worry, I'll stay here, out of the way for now while you go take care of getting him back. Maybe finding out what's going on."

Wyatt blew out a frustrated breath and orbed in front of the retreating form, "The others can take care of it. I'm not worried about that right now! I'm worried about you! If Grams of all people was scared enough to want you out of the Manor, then this is serious—you're in real danger!"

"Wyatt, whatever "big-bad-boogeyman" is out there to get me, well—it's not as if it really matters in the grand scheme of things. I'm dead, man; have been for a very long time. Besides," Chris turned away, "I don't belong here." He added quietly reflecting on his original future as he sat on the steps, "or anywhere else for that matter…"

"Chris—why are you being so stubborn?" he asked as he dropped down on the step above his brother.

"Because this is not my life, Wyatt. I'm glad that I saved you. At least I did something right. I mean, look at you—you're happy, he's happy, the whole damn family is happy now too. But there's no room in it for me."

"You're acting like you think you're worthless. Like you don't mean anything to anybody. But it's not true, and you're the only one who seems to think that it is!"

"Maybe you don't, and maybe Grams doesn't either. But the rest of them? I would guess that they would have cared if I lived or died if I really did matter to them." He stared pointedly at the Twice-Blessed witch and asked with a hint of sarcasm, "Don't you think?"

Wyatt sighed before answering, "What I think is that they would care about you just the same as their Chris if they knew who you were. They're just acting kind of stupid right now because they don't have a clue. Give them a chance. When we go back, we tell them who you are…"

Still unsure, Chris questioned "And if they still don't care?"

"Well that won't happen. Trust me, it'll be alright—I'll make sure of it. But for argument's sake—you get to yell at me—kick my ass—tell me I told you so—dress me up in a pink tutu and take a picture so it'll last longer; hey whatever you want. I won't stop you…Deal?" Grinning from ear to ear, Wyatt held out his hand hopefully, looking to settle their pact with the age old method of agreements.

Chris looked up into the crystal blue eyes that showed nothing but sincerity and decided that unlike his version, he could trust this Wyatt. He accepted the outstretched hand before nodding reluctantly. "With ballet slippers too?"

"If you can find 'em in my size…" Wyatt answered commenting dryly and raised his eyebrows suggestively.

Chris snickered at the blonde, "You see, that's one thing about you that's still the same…"

"What" he asked curiously.

"You're still obsessed with the size of your uh—feet."

Wyatt locked his hands behind his head and leaned back confidently, "Hmm. Can I help it if I'm a ladies man? With devilishly good looks," patting his stomach, "rock-hard abs…"

Chris laughed heartily, recognizing his brother's attempt at lightening the atmosphere again. "Conceited much?"

"Shush. I'm not finished." He batted his eyes dramatically, "…and to top off the whole package-a natural born angel…"

Still laughing, Chris again headed for the second level. He made it obvious that he "accidentally" kicked Wyatt playfully on the way up, mumbling an insincere apology before darting away. The motion having the desired effect as Wyatt gave chase, and missed him by mere inches as the door was slammed in his face.

"Hmmph," he grunted. He reached for the door as he heard the lock clicking into place. Wyatt shook his head at the absurdity of the action as he orbed onto the bed inside of the room. "Unlike some people," he taunted, "I can still orb. And I know you raced up here to claim king-sized bed, but since I'm on it—you're out of luck."

The brown-haired witch crossed his arms and glared at the other, "Oh, come on Wy? I toss and turn in my sleep…"

"No. I'm taller than you. I need more space to stretch out."

"Oh, fine. I guess I'll just have to suffer the indignity of a twin bed. I hope I don't fall off and hurt myself…" he added with wide, sad eyes.

Wyatt rolled his eyes at the lame attempt to make him feel sorry for him. "You're such a martyr," he voice laced with sarcasm.

He sat up, "Hey, and seriously—there's nothing we can do until Grams shows up with an explanation, so get some sleep. But whatever is out there after you—some "big-bad-boogeyman" as you call it—no heroics, ok? Let me take care of it. I don't want anything happening to you."

Chris waived his hand in dismissal and scoffed before heading to his room, "She's probably just over-reacting. I'm already dead, Wy. It doesn't get much worse than that."

As Chris flicked off the light, Wyatt laid there until his vision adjusted to the darkened room. The boy's words lingered in his mind, '…it doesn't get much worse than that,' and he couldn't seem to push down the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. "I hope he's right."

Tbc…

AN: I just wanted to thank everyone who has reviewed so far—it's so thrilling to open the emails see your encouraging words. You guys are wonderful!

And, I'm back in school so updates may be a little slower now—but I'll try to finish the story soon, so please bear with me. Thanks again.