Of All the People
Chapter 6
By teal-lover
Summary: Wyatt reflects on the events after Chris Crossed and decides to do something about it.
Rating: PG13, T
Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed, just borrowing, promise to give them back when done, don't get any money for this.
AN: Hi everyone, I started writing the families reaction and it just got so complicated, that I have to work on it a whole lot more before that part is finished. But then the next scene with Wyatt & Chris is finished, so I figured you would rather me post it than keep you waiting, right? I hope:)
AND I swear--I was trying to keep up with responding to the reviews personally—but just keeps confusing me with new ones showing up on the review page—that isn't in the same order as the email alerts. And now I'm having trouble with my email account, so I'm too afraid I'm going to miss someone—AGAIN, because that would really hurt my feelings.
So with that, I'd like to say one big HUGE THANK YOU! to everyone who has reviewed—it means so much to me. If I can resist---cause I want to do it so badly, I'll hold the individual ones until the end—or maybe just until next chapter since the story is meant to be kind of short.
One more note: Don't worry guys, I don't reverse a character once I start it. So if you notice a change, I'm just having a little fun with the complexities of the character:)
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Hours had passed since he had conjured the sleeping dust and sprinkled it in his brother's face before spiriting them both away from the club. He glanced around the hardened stone walls, shivering slightly from the drafty air, but his eyes kept falling on the prone figure he had laid on the stone. The figure that now slept peacefully and had thus resisted all attempts to be roused.
Perhaps I used too much, he thought grimly, unaccustomed to second guessing himself. Or perhaps he doesn't want to wake up.
Wyatt sat in the darkened shadows of his new surroundings, his knees drawn to his chest protectively. He had come to the past in search of answers. And now that he had found most of them, he suddenly found himself at a crossroads. 'To every problem, there is a solution—or two', he could hear his mother's voice echoing in his mind from decades past. Though he hadn't thought of the woman in years, he could now picture her saying them as clear as day, smiling down on him with that ever resilient tone of hers.
The prospect of the solution his mind had first come to, had surprisingly given him an uneasy feeling. The mixed feeling of trepidation, combined with a sense of relief, was something he was not familiar with. At least, not for a very long time. In his time, the great Wyatt Matthew Halliwell was known for his cunning and ruthless decisiveness, always delivering either swift rewards or punishment with equal fervor. As he had been told on many occasions, it was a true sign of a well to do leader—and it was a skill that he possessed in spades.
So the very idea that he now sat here questioning his decision was quite absurd by his standards. And it all came back to his one weakness—the brother that could instill self-doubt and loathing within him just as easily as if he could inject it with a syringe.
It made him unstable, unfit to rule everything in creation if he couldn't discipline himself to rule his own thoughts.
That's why I need to do this…he tried to convince himself. But am I ready to do this—there will be no turning back. Yes, he thought firmly for a moment. I am?
Dragging his hands through his hair, he blew out a frustrated breath. Things could be so much simpler if his brother had only sided with him rather than against him. They could rule together. He could tolerate the younger man ingratiating himself into the very fiber of his being, but only if it benefited him somehow.
But his brother wanted him to be 'good'. How could he in good conscience, choose one side or the other, especially when he no longer believed in either side.
Damn him! He cursed under his breath. This should be easy. He betrayed me! It's as simple as black and white. Or is it?
Another thought forming, he held out his hand and conjured a potion, one that he himself had taken years ago. 'To every problem, there is a solution—or two', he thought while the beginnings of a smile formed on his lips. He glided over to the sleeping man, prying his mouth open while tilting the head of dark hair back and released the vial's contents.
Laying him back down, Wyatt returned to his corner and sighed deeply in anticipation. It would take several doses to truly become effective…
Tired of waiting for nature to take its course, Wyatt flicked his wrist at his brother, telekinetically sending him scurrying to the floor. He grinned in amusement when the younger man landed with a thud and a groan.
When Christopher awoke, the pounding headache made it difficult to focus on his surroundings. But then it was pitch black. His eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the dark. But he didn't need his eyesight to know that he wasn't alone. When a flickering candle in front of him was lit, his vision quickly adapted to the figure that held it. Wyatt slowly moved a few feet in front of him and lit several torches that surrounded the stone slab he had just been so rudely awoken from.
Panic began to set in as he recognized the family mausoleum that had only been recently purchased. Piper and her sisters had wanted something large enough to accommodate the immediate family and any direct descendents, but most importantly, something that was out of the public eye and remote. They had found a way to shield it from all magical presences, including the Elders. The sisters had wanted to ensure that at least they would have peace in death even if they could never find it in life.
In his future, his mother and her three sisters were all buried there. He had spent many a night mourning their loss within its walls. And as such, he knew that from the outside, no sounds could ever be heard from within.
He edged his way to his feet, sliding against the cold marble. Quickly trying to orb, he cursed loudly as he felt the tingling sensation in his body only begin to stir, yet nothing happened. He tried again repeatedly before he was interrupted by Wyatt's quiet voice.
Wyatt supplied helpfully, "That feeling that something is supposed to be there when it's not? It will go away eventually. I used a potion to suppress all of your whitelighter senses, just like I have mine. But I've been generous enough to allow you to shimmer. If--you take those potions over there."
Chris glanced at one of the many vials next to him that his brother gestured to. He reached his hand out temptingly, but quickly withdrew it. He didn't want to turn like his brother had, nor did he want to take the chance that the potion's effects might be of a permanent nature. He crossed his arms instead. "This is a really pathetic attempt, Wyatt. You're going to resort to trying to turn me?"
Wyatt grinned, the thrill of taunting the younger man just as he had done when they were children had not diminished with age. "Why not?" he said mockingly. "You're trying to do it to me…The son's of a Charmed Witch need to be on the same side. I'm not sure if it really matters which one."
At the withered look he received, the blonde gave up and adopted a more serious expression, "It won't turn you, Christopher. It's designed to simply make you more aligned to your family's interests...whatever they may be."
Chris ran his tongue along the inside of his mouth, tasting a bitter substance that had not been there before his impromptu nap. He knew that most likely his brother already had, but grimaced as he stated questioningly, "You could have given it to me yourself…"
"I already have. So there's really no reason to refuse it now. I simply want you to make the choice. The first dose only suppressed the whitelighter in you. Each successive dose will bring you closer to who you really are."
The brunette shook his head furiously. "Yeah, evil! Just like you. No way. No way."
"Suit yourself. It is the only way you're getting out of here. And you don't have much time left."
Christopher set his jaw stubbornly, grinding his teeth together. "You can't do this."
"I can. And I will. I've left you plenty of food and water, you won't starve. But they'll never find you here. No one will hear you. You can't contact them, and you can't leave—without that potion. So you can either decide to take it, and return to the future with me—willingly, and rule by my side. Or we can all forget that Christopher Perry Halliwell ever existed. The choice is yours, brother." Wyatt stood, making his intent to leave clear to the younger man.
Stalling as long as he could, Chris tilted his head inquisitively and asked suddenly, "Do you love me, Wyatt?"
Wyatt bristled at the startling question, stopping dead in his tracks. Though the voice was deep, aged into a man—he only heard the childlike tone in the words. It was that same voice that had asked the exact question eighteen years ago. "What?"
After yet another birthday that his father had abandoned him with nothing more than a letter that he couldn't read yet, the five year old had been told by his mother that his father really did love him, and that he hadn't meant to neglect him. So if Daddy wasn't around because he loved him, Chris pondered, than leaving them was a requirement of loving someone. And so he had asked his older brother, "Do you love me, Wy?"
The seven year old looked up from his mouthful of birthday cake, "Of course. You're my brother."
"Then you'll leave me too…" the tiny soft voice replied sadly.
Bright blue eyes returned the look intensely, "I'll never leave you…"
Wyatt paused again, unable to shake the old memory until his brother's voice interrupted. It held more than a hint of sadness to it. When he looked up, the sage-green eyes filled with moisture held his gaze steady.
"If you're going to leave me here to die like this, then I at least need to know."
"Don't be so dramatic. I gave you a choice. You don't have to die."
The younger of the two shook his head, refusing to be swayed by the dismissive tone. "I deserve an answer. Because I never stopped loving my brother. So when did he stop returning the favor?"
Wyatt dropped his head, unable to look into his brother's shining eyes. He hated himself for the admission even as he spoke the words quietly, "He didn't."
"Then how can you do this to me?"
"Because I need to be free of you. There's no more middle ground, Christopher. And I can't have you against me."
Chris heard the silent desperation in his brother's voice, the meaning behind the unspoken words suddenly clearing as an old adage came to mind—'can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em.' Maybe there was hope for him yet. "So you do need me…" he murmured as he watched the witch turn his back.
"Yes," Wyatt admitted hastily before shimmering out, leaving Chris alone with his thoughts.
TBC…
Thank you all so much for the reviews.