2026
Bianca shimmered to the top of the overpass, moving up next to Wyatt and leaning on the rail to look over at the passing traffic below.
"You're late," he said.
She shrugged. "I had things to do."
His eyes passed over to her curiously. "You know that excuse is starting to wear thing now."
"What do you want me to tell you?" she inquired innocently.
"Some detail might be nice," he said expectantly, turning to lean back against the rail. She snuck a glance at him out of the corner of her eye, finally pushing herself away from the railing, her hands still encompassing the metal bar as she looked at him playfully. "Don't tell me you've picked up another hobby outside this?"
"Yes, knitting," Bianca responded smartly. "I can make you a nice black scarf if you like."
Pulling herself towards the barrier again she peered over the edge as a truck blasted its horn below, folding her arms across the top of the railing and leaning further forward to get a better view. Wyatt watched her thoughtfully. He doubted there was any truth to her story.
"I don't believe you. The only reason you'd even pick up a knitting needle is to stake someone with it."
Glancing up at him she smirked, knowing he was right. Wyatt caught a glimmer in her eye and wondered what had made her so happy. Light seemed to radiate from her lately, something he'd never seen before, but in her secretive state she wasn't bound to tell him why. Her eyes passed back behind them before settling on him again.
"So did I miss all the action?" she inquired.
"Unfortunately," Wyatt answered. "Although there may have been more if that warlock was still around; but my family vanquished him years ago. Doesn't stop this place being what it is though."
"A place for demons to converse?" Bianca guessed, looking at him with interest. Wyatt gave her a grim smile.
"Inner demons maybe. This spot is notorious for suicides. My aunt tried to jump off this bridge once. Guess it runs in the family." He glanced at her quickly before looking away again, his eyes becoming misty with tears brought on by old memories. "Not that I ever did…jump, that is. But I thought about it. I used to come up here all the time, even more so after my mother died. It's difficult to cope with the great weight of responsibility, when you're meant to live up to and be this image of some great magical being who can do anything and everything, to try to handle the burden of expectation placed on you because a prophecy said so before you were born. And it's twice as hard trying to deal with it all when you see something everyone's expecting you to fix but you know you can't stop it."
Bianca looked at him sympathetically, watching as he turned back towards the railing, leaning hard on it and letting out a deep, sorrowful breath as he stared down at the traffic below, reliving his own nightmare. To a minor degree she could empathise – not that she'd had any prophecy laid out for her, but the enforcement of commitment to the coven and the great expectation placed on her made her feel a certain affinity to his hurt.
"Do you know what it's like to feel helpless?" he suddenly snapped towards her.
"Yes," she answered meekly. Wyatt shook his head.
"Of course you do, after what happened between you and the Phoenix." He waved his hand profusely in the air. "Most people don't bother trying to empathise or understand the strain they're placing on someone else. So long as it makes things easier for them. Often they're blind to the fact they're driving people to breaking point. But you've already been there so you know what I mean."
Bianca nodded. "But I've been stronger than most people I've heard about. I may look unaffected by it all, but there's still pain buried underneath those scars. I never knew things were so bad for you."
"I skated very close to the surface of it all. Then I turned and took it out on something else. It may have looked as if I'd finally accepted my birthright but I was just trying to end it. I'm still trying to end it." Sniffling loudly, he ran the back of his hand underneath his nose before looking at Bianca with a purposeful gaze. "That's enough sightseeing. We've gotta get a move on to the shipping yards to assess what my other lackeys are doing."
Thinking there may be a problem without him or Bianca around; his thoughts were confirmed once they reached the warehouse. Bianca and Wyatt raced over at the booming sound from within. The doors were wide open, the place completely empty. Sounds of scuffling from behind the place reached their ears and they went back through the doors, heading around the building and stopping on the gravel, witnessing a body being thrown against the chain link fence. Rebounding back they saw it was one of Wyatt's demons, the second taking a swing at the perpetrator who threw the first. A man with a mop of brown hair ducked down to avoid being hit, tossing his head back as he stood again. Bianca could already see a smatter of bruises on his face.
"Enough!" Wyatt bellowed. The two demons stopped fighting, their hands still raised. As soon as they spotted Wyatt they quickly stood to attention. Chris also looked, his long hair sweeping across his face, blown gently by the wind. "Chris. Something I can do for you?"
"Yeah, send these demons to hell where they belong."
Wyatt's eyes passed over the scene in front of him, inspecting both the demons and Chris. "I would have thought we were already there. And that's not a very supportive suggestion from a supposed family member."
"What would you know about family?" Chris yelled. "You only ever do things for yourself."
"That's bullshit, Chris, and you know it," Wyatt retorted. "I did everything to help and protect mom and dad, and what did you do? Nothing, because you're completely useless."
Chris glared at Wyatt, taking a few gallant steps towards him. Bianca circled away from the pair, feeling the heat glowering between them. She didn't want to be caught in the crossfire, not unless she needed to be.
"I may not have the power you do but at least I didn't let this family down," Chris sniped in a low voice.
His curls blowing across his darkening eyes, his jaw becoming rigid, Wyatt drew his arm back and, with as much force as he could muster, threw his fist forward into Chris' face. Chris went down, his hand flying up to his cheek in shock. Bianca took a step forward and stopped. She didn't want to blow her cover, but she wasn't about to stand by and watch Wyatt beat the living shit out of Chris.
Wyatt placed his foot on Chris' shoulder, turning him back down to the ground and preventing him from getting up. The dust from his boot fell onto the back of Chris' shirt as he ground him further into the dirt.
"I wish you'd never been born," Wyatt said, grabbing Chris by the hair and throwing his face down into the gravel.
Bianca looked up at the sky as she felt the first drops of rain hit her skin. It was as black as Wyatt's temper. Somewhere off in the distance she heard thunder begin to rumble.
"Wyatt," she cautioned, directing upwards with her eyes.
His eyes wild and full of loathing, he glanced back to her before slowly edging himself away from Chris, his gaze firmly locked on his younger brother. Chris raised his head from the ground, blinking rapidly as if to clear his eyes from the dust that filled them. Fresh cuts had opened up on his face, made by the sharp rocks he'd been thrown against. Wearily he looked across to Wyatt, squinting to gain focus as he attempted to push himself up again.
"Things were so much better before you came along," Wyatt continued to rant angrily. "It was because of you they stopped noticing what was happening with me. Even before you were born you were still interfering and I found myself in more trouble than I could have ever thought possible. You were an unplanned distraction. Because of you I had no-one to protect me. They were all too vulnerable. I was too young to have to protect everyone else; too young to have to endure that kind of pressure. Can you imagine that, Chris? Would you even know what it's like to have every magical creature on this earth come after you because they wanted your powers? Do you know how hard it is to fend every one of them off when you've barely mastered your own powers?"
The thunder exploded overhead, lightning ripping through the sky as it darkened immensely. The rain flooded down over them, Bianca ducking her head quickly and looking around for shelter. Wyatt didn't care, he didn't even seem to notice. Chris stumbled on the way up, his foot slipping in the newly formed mud beneath his feet. Using his hand to break his fall, he began pushing himself up again, wiping the dirt and grit onto the leg of his jeans.
"Maybe they never would have come if mom and dad didn't have you to deal with. Maybe I would never have been placed directly into their hands. There is no safe haven here, Chris. Every second you face danger. Keep getting in my way and it'll get worse," Wyatt warned. His eyes finally moved away from his brother and focused on the two demons. "Do whatever you want. I don't care anymore."
Gleefully one of the demons smiled, eager to get his hands back on Chris again. They both turned back towards Chris. Bianca stepped forward, grabbing the arm of the closest demon, but he wasn't the one Chris was in danger from. The one who seemed to enjoy being violent towards Chris lit up a fireball. Chris held up his arms, trying valiantly to push him away, but the demon had better grounding and pressed the fireball against Chris' upper arm, searing through shirt and flesh as Chris cried out in pain.
"Let go of him!" Bianca demanded, striding forward and ripping the second demon away. "If you plan on slowly torturing him you're going to give him more opportunity to get away. You can get your Jolly's persecuting small animals instead. This one you take out directly."
Shoving the demon away, Bianca hooked her foot around the back of Chris' ankle, twisting herself to push him to the ground. At first Chris was smug, but the expression was quickly overtaken by one of surprise, a loud yelp escaping his lips as his back connected harshly with the softening ground. He stared up at her as she sat on top of him trying to shake the wet strings of hair away that were plastered to her face. His heart beat faster as he saw the look of contempt on her face, fright starting to set in as he saw her conjure a dagger into her hand, pressing it closely to his throat. This was the worst thing he could imagine happening. Why would she do this to him?
"Go," she ordered, glancing up at the demons. "I don't need a cheer squad. You're only going to get in the way."
Groaning, the demons shimmered out. Wyatt turned back, watching Bianca studiously. The anger seemed to have drained from him, leaving him looking pale and weary; a bleak image in his drenched attire. Bianca rolled her shoulders as she looked back down to Chris, pressing the knife-edge harder against his skin.
"What are you doing?" Chris whispered hurriedly.
"Do you want this to go fast or slow?" Bianca asked. "Either way I'm not perturbed."
"You don't have to kill him," Wyatt said softly, the rain falling down around him as he watched the pair apathetically. "He's harmless."
"Couldn't I just maim him a little?" Bianca asked. "At least enough to deter him from disturbing us in future."
Chris lifted his hands, trying to pull hers away but finding her surprisingly strong as she held her guard over him. He was seriously worried now, wondering what Wyatt had said to make her hate him so much.
"Whatever you do it's not going to stop me," Chris insisted.
"Shutup!" Bianca shouted, glaring at him.
Wyatt shook his head slowly, brushing a hand back through his dishevelled hair. "Slaughtering my family isn't going to solve anything. In fact that's rather against my intentions."
"He still needs to be taught a lesson," Bianca maintained.
"All in due time," Wyatt said, looking up as the thunder boomed overhead again. "I think it would be wise to leave now. I can see things going relatively astray."
"Go find shelter. I'll see you later, after I've dealt with him," Bianca said.
"Don't be too long," Wyatt said, adding quietly: "Or harsh."
Chris stared up at Bianca, hearing his brother orb out amid the falling drops of rain. He felt much like doing the same, although he was curious as to what had happened to Bianca. No sooner had Wyatt departed, Chris saw Bianca's sneer shift into a smile.
"Did I scare you?" she asked playfully.
"Could you remove the knife from my throat before I answer that?" Chris requested timorously.
"No, you look more lively that way."
"Yeah but it's kinda uncomfortable, and you know I hate –"
Bianca lowered herself until her lips touched his, kissing him lightly before drawing back slightly. She couldn't deny the rush she felt running around and doing this in secret, that compulsive satisfaction of being able to evade being caught.
"What do you hate?" she whispered, pressing her lips against his again, obligingly removing the dagger from his throat, drawing it lightly down the left side of his shirt before making it disappear.
"Um," Chris mumbled against her lips. She drew away, feeling his hand run down her back in a rough motion over the dampened clothes that clung tightly to her body. "Do you know how dangerous you're making this? He's going to find out."
"He's not going to find out," Bianca disagreed insistently. "Besides, I like having you all to myself. In a way it's fun… thrilling…"
"Painful, ow," Chris groaned, trying to move his arm out from under her.
Shifting her knee, she looked down at the burnt hole in the sleeve of his shirt. Her gaze drifting to his face as she inspected the rest of his injuries, she gently brushed his hair aside, tenderly touching the scratches and the bruise she revealed - the outcome of his encounter with Wyatt.
"We better take you home and get some ice for that." With a look of sympathy, she pushed herself back and stood, helping him to his feet. "I'll have to start teaching you to be stealthier."
"So long as you remember what I taught you."
"What's that?" she asked with a smile, changing her grip on his hands as she stepped in closer.
"That you don't have to go around killing every man and his dog to get what you want."
"I know," she said, looking away quickly.
"And that you're allowed to relax. Movies and massages are good things."
She laughed, her eyes sparkling as she looked back to him. "I know that too. Are you hinting at what I think you are?"
"Could be," Chris responded mischievously.
"How about we get you a little TLC first?" she suggested. Nodding, Chris allowed her to shimmer them out.
She scrubbed at the fogged up mirror in the bathroom, the mist giving way to her own reflection. Picking up a brush, she ran it through her hair. It was quite long now, and a whole lot lighter. Namely because of Chris. He had thought it was a good test of will if she could patiently sit in a hair salon for three hours without feeling the urge to pick up any of the sharp implements around her and use them. She was glad to say she'd passed that test, coming out with a few highlights in her hair as an added bonus. Despite remaining keenly observant, she also suspected Chris had been outside preventing any temptation from getting in.
Tightening the towel again as it loosened around her, she stepped out of the bathroom into the hallway and was stopped abruptly by Chris orbing in, looking remotely dishevelled.
"Chris, please. Tell me you didn't," she said discouragingly. Sheepishly he looked away. "Chris! I told you not to interfere with what he's doing!"
"But the Nuex are too simple for his grand plans," Chris protested. "They wouldn't survive."
"You have to stop antagonising him, Chris. You'll only make things worse."
"And just let him have his way like you do?" Chris questioned bluntly. Bianca looked at him darkly.
"He has a system," she said carefully. "You avoid stepping in the danger zones and you won't get hurt."
"Right," Chris sighed insolently, rolling his eyes away.
"I don't want to see you get hurt, Chris," she said honestly, her tone softer now.
At the sound of orbs, they both turned their heads. It was not going to be Chris - he was already there - so surely it had to be only one person.
"Shit," Bianca cursed, grabbing hold of Chris and shimmering them to her bedroom. Quickly she slammed the door shut.
"Bianca?" Wyatt's voice echoed through the apartment.
"Just a minute!" she called. "I'm getting dressed."
Sliding open the door of the built-in wardrobe she pushed Chris inside. There wasn't a whole lot in there; she lived on bare essentials - rarely having the time to make an outing to go shopping. Chris made little effort to hide, Bianca pushing him down as he fumbled to pull a shirt from one of the various hangers.
"Ow!" Chris cried, ducking and grabbing his head as he looked vehemently towards the wooden hanger that had assaulted him. He received no sympathy from Bianca, instead she pushed him back roughly against the far wall, the clothes almost smothering him as they swung around his face.
"Stay!" she ordered, pulling the door closed so fast that it made a smacking sound and rebounded partially open again.
Chris crawled down and peered through the gap, watching as Bianca quickly buttoned the top and then shimmied into a skirt. Looking around frantically, her eyes fell on Chris. He smiled cheekily.
"You know you could be helpful. Gimmie my boots." She looked to the door, panicked as she heard Wyatt's heavy footfalls on the other side. "Quick! Hurry!"
There was a rattling in the cupboard as Chris searched around for a pair of boots, his arm finally appearing through the gap and throwing them towards her. Hastily he closed the door behind him. Bianca pulled on the footwear, giving one last glance around the room before grabbing a hair-tie and walking out to Wyatt, looking preoccupied as she fastened her hair back into a ponytail, leading him further away to the living room.
"Did you hear the news yet?" Wyatt asked.
"No, I was in the shower," she explained.
"My brother has been sticking his nose into things again," he stated, turning and pacing the length of the room, his fist closing before him as he vocalised his frustration. "I almost had the eastern quarter of the Financial District in my grasp until that little mischievous runt came along and spoiled it."
Throwing his fist into the wall before him in aggravation, the pain that resonated through his knuckles and back up his arm brought him out of his reverie. He shook his hand, trying to lessen the feeling, his eyes moving back to Bianca to see she had not moved. She didn't even look the slightest bit concerned for his welfare. This only annoyed him more. He knew he was losing her, he'd realised that years ago, but now the distance was becoming a vast divide and he didn't know how he could stop it nor reel her back in.
"You don't look surprised," he observed.
"Should I be? You're always telling me what an interfering nuisance he is."
"I know. He's starting to irritate me more than I thought he would. I'm afraid I underestimated his capabilities. I thought without the book he'd be harmless."
"He has his own powers," Bianca pointed out.
"Yes, but what can he do? Move a few things about or orb out. They're all defensive. When it comes to fight or flight, he usually takes off. But lately he's been proving me wrong, and I never thought he'd try to attack someone without a spell in hand."
"What are you going to do about it?" she asked.
"I don't know," he answered honestly, lifting his hands and running them back through his hair in agitation. "He's family. You're not supposed to fight family – at least not to this degree. He shouldn't be opposing me! I need him on my side."
"I doubt he's going to change his mind because you want him to. Don't expect things to come so easily."
"Well I had an advantage over everyone else. Of course I'd expect that. But he's a Halliwell and that lineage comes with great power. He has one thing that I don't, and that's because I never took the time. If I can get him on my side I won't have to concern myself with that anymore."
Hearing a knock at the front door, Bianca glanced from it to Wyatt quickly before heading over to open it. On the other side stood Conway - a demon who often frequented Wyatt's company. His hands clasped behind his back, he raised his eyebrows at her, his thick Welsh accent tumbling from his mouth as he explained his reason for being there.
"There appears to be a situation in the Eastern quarter of the Financial District," he said informatively.
"Yes, I know. Wyatt told me," Bianca responded.
Peering over her shoulder, he saw Wyatt and eagerly pushed his way past. Bianca glared at him, following him into her apartment, irritated with the intrusion. Waving his hand back at Bianca, he nodded with acknowledgement towards Wyatt.
"The lady doesn't like to be unceremoniously dropped in on. We've learnt to approach her from the outside."
"I see that," Wyatt said, his gaze moving over to Bianca. She looked away indignantly.
"Sir, there's trouble arising South of Market. I think you should come bear witness," Conway advised.
"We'll be right there," Wyatt said. Conway looked from Bianca to Wyatt, trying to determine what he'd missed out on. Rubbing the stubble on his face, Wyatt tried again to get rid of him. "Give us a moment. We won't be long."
"Thank you, sir," Conway said, giving an appreciative bow and shimmering out. Wyatt turned back to Bianca, watching her kick at the floor absently.
"It's torturous having to love and hate someone at the same time, but I swear if he's trying to wage a war –"
"Why don't we just go there first and see what the problem is?" Bianca interjected quickly.
Nodding in agreement, Wyatt began to orb out, Bianca making a move to look like she was doing the same before reappearing with a fake admission of negligence. Wyatt orbed back in, watching her with confusion.
"I forgot something," she said hurriedly, racing back towards her room. Making sure to close her door behind her, doing it as quietly as she could so as not to raise suspicion, she looked back towards the cupboard and hissed: "Chris!"
Hearing a noise from inside as Chris tried to find his way out, accidentally knocking her shoes against the door and making it vibrate, the mirrored surface slid open and he tumbled out onto the floor. Grinning up at her, she put her hands on her hips and looked down at him.
"Is it safe to come out?" he asked jokingly.
"You're already out," she pointed out seriously. "And he hasn't left yet, he's waiting on me."
"So I have to keep letting him run off with you when I want to spend time with you?" Chris asked, his smile completely gone now.
"Well if it's any consolation, he thinks we're chasing you."
"Oh," Chris said shortly, looking down at his feet as he sat up properly. Looking up, bothered when he realised what she meant, he questioned: "What have I done now? Supposedly done, considering I'm not there."
Bianca sighed. "That crawler Conway thinks you're playing a hand in what's going on South of Market."
"I had nothing to do with that," Chris said, holding his hands up. "Honest."
"I know," Bianca said reassuringly. Taking his hands in hers, she pulled him to his feet. "But you can't hang around here; you have to go, before either of them gets suspicious."
"What about you?" Chris asked. Bianca smiled.
"I'll be fine. I know how to work Wyatt. I'll just show him it's not you. He might become a little more distracted by what's happening there. At least if I make it a huge deal he'll let up on you more."
"Until when? Once he's killed them or turned them, then what?"
Bianca swallowed, looking away slightly offended by what he was implying. Her gaze slowly crossing back to him, she tried to hold back from arguing.
"He just needs a little understanding. You know he doesn't want to fight you, Chris, he wants you on our side."
"Sure… little brother, come to the dark side. We have cookies," Chris said, doing his best impersonation of his older brother. Slipping from the uptight form he had taken into a more relaxed one, he rolled his eyes and waved his hands emphatically at the ridiculousness of the idea. "Right!"
"Chris!" Bianca scolded.
"Come find me when you're done," Chris said irritably, folding his arms and orbing out.
Pursing her lips, she turned her heel outwards and looked down at her boot. Conjuring a dagger into her hand as she leant over, she tucked it into the small straps located on the inside of the shoe, hiding it from view just as an assassin would appropriately do.