Dichotomy
A/N: My very first Charmed story. I'm not sure how to work very well, so the format might be dodgy or something…some helpful hints would be nice I'm a bit of a technophobe. Any strange spelling is probably due to my stubborn resolve to remain staunchly British… no offense meant.
Summary: Christopher Peregrine Halliwell died. Yet he is now alive and well. Surely that doesn't happen so easily? And if it does, whatever happened to the Chris who died to save him?
Disclaimer: Charmed belongs to someone who is very rich, so we can immediately assume it is not me. Don't sue, you'll only get a half empty jar of old fashioned jelly babies.
Warnings: Nothing really. A little bloodshed. Not slash, not a Mary sue (shudders) no badly developed female characters, no incest, just sibling love.
Rating: PG13 American, 12 English.
This story is told from a great many different points of view, and this can get a bit confusing. Anything in italic is a dream, or vision, seen by one of the characters.
Chapter 1
"Why are you doing this?"
Wyatt Mathew Halliwell closed his eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. Calm, calm. Remain calm. You need to do this.
"Because I must."
A simple enough answer, to a simple enough question. But not the answer which had been sought, at all. No. There would be hell to pay.
"That's it? Just 'because you must'? Wyatt…please…"
Ah, there it was. The one weakness which undermined everything he had worked so hard to build. He couldn't turn, not now…pun not intended. He knew if he did, he would lose his resolve. He kept his eyes fixed on the pale, mocking cream of the wall beside him.
"Do you trust me?"
"What? I don't-"
"That's not what I asked. Do you trust me?"
"…Yes."
Wyatt allowed himself a small smile and turned, to find his despondent younger brother attempting to glare a scorch hole through the carpet, and succeeding. Wyatt hastily stamped on the combusted area and took a step towards Chris.
"Come on, Chris. I know what I'm doing, I promise."
Wyatt hesitated, before reaching out and placing a hand on his brother's shoulder, who refused to respond or even look up.
"It's only for tonight. I'll be back before morning, I swear it. You won't even realize I've gone, I-"
Wyatt broke off in surprise, and suddenly his brother was in his arms, hugging him fiercely. He blinked, and looked down at the mussed brown hair beneath him as Chris attempted to burrow into his chest. He carefully put an arm around his brother, the other resting on his hair.
"Hey, don't." His hands stroked his brother's hair, mimicking the mechanic echo of his mother's actions, albeit slightly clumsy. "Please don't. Don't make this harder than it is."
"You either, then." Came the muffled reply from somewhere in his chest, and Chris' arms tightened painfully around him. "Don't die, please…" Wyatt, dismayed, found his brother was trembling, his voice choked. "Please, Wy…you can't…"
Wyatt closed his eyes and rested his head atop his brothers, hand moving to rub comforting circles in Chris' back. He drew deep breaths and kept his mind clear. He could not allow this. Not now.
"It won't happen again."
His voice was strangely steady as he drew carefully back from his brother, hands gently but firmly placed on the other's arms. He stared determinedly into his brother's eyes.
"Not now, not ever."
The hands moved up to bring Chris' head closer to his, and he pressed his lips briefly to the other's forehead before turning away and striding to the door. He turned as he reached for the handle.
"I promise."
But it had.
Christopher Peregrine Halliwell closed his eyes and forced such thoughts from his mind, shifting uncomfortably on the window ledge and sighing deeply. He supposed he wasn't…Christopher Peregrine Halliwell any more. Christopher Peregrine Halliwell was currently engaged in a furious and rigorous fight over the remote control for the television with his brother, Wyatt.
Now he was just…Chris.
Or Perry, as the angels and guardians had taken to calling him, to avoid confusion. He hated the name, personally. It had only been invented on the spur of the moment.
And the Wyatt who had now succeeded in wrestling the remote from Chris and was flicking lazily through the channels, was not Perry's brother.
No.
He had shorter hair, for one thing. And more fashion sense. And a sense of humour. And…
Perry halted his thoughts as a stab of jealousy course through him, and he glared down at Christopher Peregrine Halliwell, who was now sulking. If he only knew…
But all in good time. There was now only two weeks until Christopher's (Perry outright refused to call him 'Chris') birthday…and, subsequently, precisely seventeen years since Perry's deathday, as he liked to call it. He wondered vaguely if his father still remembered. If he did, he didn't show it. This…made Perry angry.
Very angry.
But it mattered little now. Perry had waited the entirety of seventeen years for this day, the day when Christopher finally reached the same age when he, Perry, had died. If that indeed was what had happened to him. He was still here, wasn't he…?
He smiled. Yes. Things were about to get very interesting.
A/N: It's been done before, I know. Just thought I'd try it myself. Any comments? Let me know! Review!
