Disclaimer: I'm too tired to come up with a sarcastic or witty comment. I don't own Charmed. I couldn't even spell it if it wasn't for this computer's auto-correct… Who knew there was no '4' in it?
Shortly after, Prue showed them to the guest room and conjured another bed for Leo (apparently greylighters' powers kept growing even though they were dead). She then orbed out, explaining greylighters were like whitelighters-- the ones who actually followed the rules, unlike Leo-- in that they weren't supposed to be active parts of their charges' lives. Just back up for when they needed it.
They all slept well, exhausted from the long, (thirteen chapter) day. It was about four o'clock when Prue orbed back in to wake them up and give them instructions for the day, since she wouldn't be going with them to the Archeohauge personally. Mostly the instructions were like, "Remember, you're not the Charmed ones; you're Rebecca, Naomi, and Gabrielle. And Mika, not Leo." And, "If anyone asks, you're not familiar with how things work because you've been living on the planet Harmoni for the last five years-- it's got a lot of oceans, so if they ask, you can comment on that." Or, "You can't say you're human because I know Chris and Paris have already felt your magical signatures-- just say you're mediocre witches and a normal whitelighter."
"Prue!" Piper finally burst. "We know how to do undercover work-- we're the Charmed Ones! Take it easy!"
"Yeah," added Phoebe. "What we really need to know is how to deal with Chris. I know abused children sometimes have, like, strange habits that seem important to them, or topics they might completely freak out on if you bring up… And plus, he's just plain weird to begin with, so that doesn't help us…"
Paige, Piper, and Leo nodded. Prue's eyes went wide in thought. "Yeah…" she began slowly, thinking. "I don't really know what he does that might seem weird to other people since I've known him for so long… Um… let's see… He will probably call you 'sir' or 'ma'am' just because he has it beaten into him that he has to be polite. Possibly open doors for women… and… he will rarely start a conversation-- you have to do that. Otherwise, he's perfectly content with being quiet and excluded. And… I dunno. Just treat him like you would anyone else and see where that gets you. Oh," she added suddenly. "And don't touch him. Don't ever, ever touch him or he cannot be held responsible for his following actions. He really hates it when people stand next to him, let alone touch him."
Understandable…
She gave them a wry smile and orbed out.
A little less than an hour later, they were to be seen wandering aimlessly around the rather large and maze-like base, looking for the briefing room. Luckily, they ran into Paris and Joden, who were walking in the same direction, holding hands and talking lightly.
The couple immediately greeted them brightly and together the six strolled down the hallways to the briefing room. Phoebe was surprised at how quickly they seemed to move on after losing so many innocents. But in a world of darkness, as Joden had said grimly, you have to move on, or the rest of the world is in even more trouble because you're not there to help it. Paris was silent at that, lost in thought. At that moment, they all could see the serene little girl she had been just three years ago, before the world was shaken into bits. Before her life had been shattered into rubble. It only lasted a second, though, as they came to the sound-proof steel door of the briefing room. Outside it, two more people were waiting jadedly.
One was a woman, maybe twenty-four, with wavy brown hair cropped around her ears and azure eyes behind slender spectacles. The man standing behind her looked something along the lines of twenty-eight, but his jet black eyes were like deep, dark pools of knowledge. Too much knowledge for someone that young. His shoulder-length, wild and silky black hair was even blacker than his eyes. His face was a pale white.
"Hey," said the strange woman, eager to do something besides stand around silently. "What's up? Who's this?"
"This," said Paris, "Is Rebecca, Naomi, Gabrielle, and Mika. Friends of Prue's. They're coming with us. And this," she added, motioning to the man and woman the Charmed Ones and Leo didn't know, "Is the infamous André Burkhart and Duncan…uh… do vampires have last names?"
Duncan scowled at her, and they could all see his elongated fangs. Paris made a distasteful, surprised face and Joden snorted. He stopped rather abruptly, though, as he went flying through the air, courtesy to an extremely strong invisible force. The thin air swore nonchalantly.
"Damien! Whoa-- trying to kill me, again?"
The door of the briefing room opened at the same moment Damien unmasked himself from the invisibility charm, looking acutely indifferent. The youngest brother looked merely tired.
"Nah, Joden," Chris said wearily without even looking at Damien. "If he had wanted to kill you, you would be dead right now. He's just bored."
"Bored? Me? Never!" said the older brother in mock scandalized tones, but stopped as he caught sight of the vampire. Duncan, in turn, had taken a step back, his eyes swiftly turning scarlet as he hissed. Damien looked at him as though trying to remember something extraordinarily amusing. "Hey… didn't you used to be a vaytei?" he said at last, smiling mischievously. Duncan hissed again, his handsome features twisted with anger and loathing. Damien made the same face Paris had only moments before. "Geez, man, don't take it personally. Chris was one, too--albeit for a much shorter time." He turned a glower towards his little brother, complaining, "Seeing as you found it necessary to change the rules around… brat…"
Chris rolled his eyes. "Don't you have some orders to follow or something? I mean, sticking around with us losers has got to be cramping your style, too."
"Aw, is my favewit wittle vaytei twying to get wid of me?" Damien said in mock baby tones, pinching Chris' cheek, but he very suddenly found his arm twisted back into a locked --broken-- position by Chris.
"Don't. Touch. Me." Chris said with an unmistakable clarity that made the ones present fight back shivers. Damien cocked his head to one side with a slight smile playing over his dark complexioned features. His sharp grey eyes were alight with a hidden thought that made the ones present feel as though they had been plunged into icy water. He didn't even notice that his arm was broken.
"Wait till the next time you fly over enemy territory, little bro. Just wait." He shimmered out.
Chris rolled his eyes again and led the way back inside, seemingly unfazed. He did still look tired, though. Very tired.
As they took seats, Paige sat down next to Paris. "What's a vaytei?" she whispered so that Chris and Duncan couldn't hear. She had a feeling they would object to her knowing.
A dark look passed over the female teen's face. "It's really sick," she said darkly, with open abhorrence. But how so, she wouldn't explain. (A/n: No slash or anything! I really hate writing things like that)
"Okay people," said a tall, burly man as he came through the door, Chris' guard Devon on his tail. "Let's get this briefing started." Devon went to stand silently behind Chris' chair, pointedly ignoring the filthy look the teen shot him in response.
The man, they learned, was the illustrious Archwood. Not that he said so exactly, but they could gather it by the loathsome look he constantly exchanged with Chris, and the subtle comments about mistakes the boy made in leading FU1. It was just plain obvious.
According to the briefing, the team plus the sisters and Leo were supposed to take a jet over the ocean, and, of course, over enemy territory to get to Mount Levee. They couldn't orb because orbs were traceable and this was designed to be beyond the Source's knowledge. They would then take the mountain path to the 'door of truths' and thus enter the Transporting Archeohauge. The team was supposed to find a device specifically made for magical protection purposes, whilst the Charmed Ones and Leo could get whatever they came to get.
"This is all under the assumption that the Source has no idea what we're up to, of course," stated Archwood, which was really more of a growl. "Paris, you're our Reader. Think you can check in on him and see what he knows?"
Paris smiled. "All the way in San Francisco? From Colorado? Yeah, it could take a while, though."
"Do it."
Choosing to ignore his lack of manners, Paris took a breath and closed her eyes, excluding herself from any further conversations.
"Reader?" repeated Piper, arching an eyebrow at the indisposed girl.
"Yeah, they read things," said Leo, looking at Paris with a newfound kind of wonder. "Things like emotions, thoughts, auras, people in general, situations, events, everything. They are very valuable and rare."
"You might not want to talk about her like she can't hear you," Chris advised with a slight smile. "She might be inclined to give you this God-awful look that could make a grown man want to shrivel up and die." André sighed, something other than rolling her eyes like everyone else and Joden nodded vigorously.
Blue orbs filled the room and two Elders appeared. One was Odin, ever the pessimist, and the other was a woman with red hair and brown, kind eyes. Both of them were currently looking very hassled.
The woman opened her mouth to say something, obviously important, but Odin put a hand on her shoulder. His cold eyes were glaring straight through Chris, a look of foul repugnance and anger on his countenance. "Wait, Charity," he warned, hate-filled eyes never leaving Chris. "We cannot speak in front of this filthy, traitorous, murdering little brat over here."
Chris gave him a very rude hand gesture, sending Joden into surprised laughter, which he quickly disguised as coughing fits.
"Chris," said Paris abruptly, eyes still closed. "I can't get past this asylum in Nevada. I need your-- empathic-- help."
"You heard her, Chris," said Odin, looking coldly victorious before the fight had even begun. "Now why don't you skedaddle."
"Oh? Well, then, why don't you--"
"Chris," Archwood interrupted in a warning tone. "Just take Paris to the back of the room and help her."
Glaring reproachfully, Chris rolled his chair over to Paris and pushed them both to the back of the room. There, he took Paris' hands and touched their foreheads together, closing his eyes. A red energy shield appeared around the two, barring out the sound. They concentrated together.
Phoebe watched in awe. They were really reading people from here to California, and able to pick out one certain being. It was fascinating, to say the least. She was forced to turn her attention back to the conversation with the Elders, however, and listened with something like a bored distractedness. She wished she could use her empathy like that kid could, already. She had no idea that she would think sensing people from a distance would soon seem like child's play once she saw the other things that could be done with it.
"We need this, people," Charity was saying sincerely. "…Especially since every stray trio has been trying to copy the original Volley Rampage…"
"Volley Rampage?" asked Piper, frowning.
Charity nodded gravelly. "The attack about six months ago that took out our last headquarters. Just three of the Source's single-pilot jets took out our entire base that had at least 500 men, spells, and guns protecting it. They killed so many people… completely devastating the Resistance. We had to take all we had left and start over here, basically from scratch. It was awful."
Phoebe had completely missed what the Elders had said, and they already were orbing out. Archwood turned to the two in the back. "Almost got him?"
Chris and Paris were silent, unable to hear him through the shield. It was a good ten minutes before anything happened. And what happened was that Chris and Paris simultaneously gasped, then spoke in cold and amused voices, both not their own.
"Chris, Paris, what are you doing in my head? You might not know, Paris, but Chris has already been warned about this-- haven't you?"
Chris was suddenly hurled violently backwards out of the energy shield and slammed against the wall. He fell to the floor, suddenly snapping out of it. The teen threw out his hands and something like a wave of tangible power soared straight at Paris. The girl gasped, indigo-blue eyes flying open. She concentrated on breathing for a moment before getting to her feet and helping Chris up.
"He doesn't know," they said in unison-- of their own free will, as they went back to their seats. Archwood nodded, as if deciding something.
Shortly, he voiced, "Alright, people, you've got twenty-four hours. Go do your thing."
The team got up and set to it.
The adult Chris watched as Bianca twirled her chestnut colored hair between her index finger and thumb. It was better watching her fiddling absently than watching the pool. He wasn't thrilled to see that mission a second time… he didn't even know if he could see it a second time.
Proving what he had always suspected-- that even time itself hated him-- a pool drifted up.
It showed Elderland. It showed the panel of Elders assembled, all with looks of pure loathing and stern resolution on their features. It showed them as they threw their cold, dark gazes down on a teenager, who was an inch from the line that separated passionate from hysterical.
"Christopher, we have warned you about using your whitelighter powers after we cast you down from grace," said Odin in a booming voice, giving the young one a look of purest hatred and disgust. "And we have cursed you multiple times for disregarding those orders. But since it seems to never get through to you, we have come to a decision."
The Chris in the pool couldn't stop the tears that streamed down his face. He couldn't stop his bloodied hands from shaking. The older Chris watching remembered that so clearly, and though he knew he couldn't watch the next part again, he couldn't tear his eyes from the glossy surface. He felt as if he was hypnotized by it.
Odin, in a blur of robes, waved an arm and Free Style appeared, as did a darklighter's crossbow in Odin's raised arm. The adult Chris tensed as he saw his young counterpart realize what the Elder intended to do and stumbled to his feet just a moment too late. The Elders were out from behind their white trial bench and surrounding him, holding him in place as the others ascended on his zailmate. Chris' young self was throwing something equivalent to a vehement tantrum, screaming, sobbing, struggling madly.
Then the other Elders grabbed Free Style.
The boy seized up with a sharp gasp of pain, his green eyes widening unbelievably. He couldn't move for the pain that stole his breath and shattered his mind. He couldn't think besides to acknowledge the fact that he was going to die if the pain didn't relent, if he couldn't force his lungs to breathe. If they didn't release his zail. Odin looked him directly in his shocked, stunned, and anguished green eyes.
"We warned you."
He pulled the trigger of the crossbow.
The sixteen year old screamed an unearthly scream, knees buckling, as the poisoned arrow embedded itself in the winged wolf cub, and the two zailmates crumpled to the ground. The puppy-like zail howled in agony and the boy's face was contorted in the same emotion. The bond between the two was unmistakable, though one lay dying and the other didn't. But Chris might as well have been dying… Free Style's canine voice broke, small chest laboring, and Chris was racked with agony and grief, sobbing uncontrollably, green eyes storming different shades as he tried to see past the Elders' robes that were blocking his vision, along with the tears. Even in that moment his eyes were changing… morphing…
The Elders moved away from them, their eyes just as cold and unyielding as they were moments before. They did not regret their decision, even as they watched the child feebly crawl to the wolf cub's side, sobs racking his entire body as he was forced to watch and feel his mate's demise. The boy weakly pressed his hands over his zail's heart, trying with all his might to stop the bleeding. The sobs became harder once the halfblood realized there was nothing he could do and he placed the wolf's head on his lap, stroking it as though it would save the poor thing's life. As though his own life depended on it.
"No," he croaked through the wrenching sobs. "No… please, God, no…"
"Stop it!" The adult Chris shouted. He couldn't watch Free Style die again. He couldn't. It wasn't merely a question of staying strong; it was a nonnegotiable fact. That moment… had changed so much. Zails were animals in the world that held within them a fraction of their mate's very soul. That was why the bonds between them were so strong. That was why it hurt so badly when someone else touched it. Touching another person's spirit was one thing… but their soul… their very essence and life… That was why so few people risked having zails.
But when they had killed it… It had been too much.
Bianca arched an eyebrow. She would have looked haughty, was it not for the slight trace of uneasiness behind the closed doors in her eyes. Chris instantly reached out with his empathy, and there it was. She wasn't enjoying watching him suffer like she made out she was. She felt trapped. She felt lost. She felt fear. And she felt love. She still loved him.
Then why did she marry his brother? Why did she turn her back on him when he needed her so badly? Why was she doing this? He knew her-- knew her damn it! She wasn't afraid to turn around and undermine the Source. She never feared consequences when it came to doing the right thing, or doing something to help someone she loved-- and she still loved him! Why wasn't she sticking to her roots and doing what she had always done? Why wasn't she helping him get where his charges were? Why wasn't she freaking helping him?
Bianca's eyes narrowed. "Stop reading me," she spat. "You aren't going to find what you're looking for."
Chris gave her a long, penetrating look. Bianca took an uncertain step back, regarding him with caution. Even she knew that he was finding things about her no one else ever would. Chris took a breath, never taking his eyes off her as he stated softly, "I already have."
The temporarily forgotten pool drifted away, leaving the two to gaze into the other's eyes in search of things words could never describe.
FU1, plus the Charmed Ones and Leo, packed everything they would need for hiking in near Arctic weather for overnight, and took a trip to the armory. When Piper voiced that guns didn't work on demons and warlocks, Paris replied grimly,
"Not everyone working for the Source is magical."
They packed everything into a small jet and, after waiting for Chris, their pilot, to get back from where ever he had disappeared to, were off.
Paige, blatantly uncomfortable with flying, asked in what she hoped was a steady voice, "So, Joden. You were going to tell me about FU teams?"
Joden grinned, pushing curly hair out of his twinkling green-blue eyes.
"Oh, Lord," interrupted Duncan, rolling his pitch black eyes. "You really don't want to get him started. He's obsessed with this 'hero' figure."
Joden threw him a sidelong look. Turning back to Paige, he explained.
"Okay. When this war first started about a year or so ago, the Source was destroying towns and cities. He was working on striking fear into the hearts of humans and witches alike, beginning a reign of terror. No one was strong enough to oppose him, because at the time this Resistance had only a dozen or so mediocre witches and humans. We weren't a very formidable alliance, to say the least. Hundreds of thousand innocents were dying at Evil's hand and everyone was too scared to do anything about it. Then, out of nowhere, some lone guy starts turning up at whatever town or place the Source is attacking and vanquishes every demon there. And every saved city and town is left, get this, with feathers. The demons start fearing this guy, and refused, point blank, to go into places where the guy left his trademark. Then the dude started going to places with innocents and taking them 'under his protection' by leaving a feather in the middle of town halls."
"And do you know who it was?" asked Phoebe, who had also been listening in. Everyone was, except their dear pilot, who was currently playing video games on the aircraft's satellite radar.
Joden looked like he was very much enjoying telling this. "Don't know, but some people say it was the Source's own brother, and that's why the Source tolerated it. They say his brother was a captive by him, and that's how he knew where the demons were going to be next."
"And they also say the Source's brother took the fall for each place he protected from his brother," continued André in bored tones, as though reciting a prosaism. "They say that the Source grudgingly agreed not to attack those places, after a while, if his brother would submit to take the pain and torture those innocents would have felt upon himself. Yeah, Joden, we know."
Joden glared playfully, retorting, "Yeah, but they didn't."
"It's probably all lies, anyway," said Duncan coolly. "I mean, what kind of idiot would let his own brother torture him for complete strangers?"
"I can name a few," said Paris thoughtfully, speaking for the first time. Duncan rolled his eyes. Joden threw an arm delightedly around his girlfriend, earning himself a kiss.
"So what happened to him?" asked Leo, wondering himself if any of it was true.
Joden shrugged. "Don't know. Haven't heard anything about him for a few months, now. Maybe the Source finally killed him? Hey, Chris! Uh… who's flying the plane?"
"What? Oh. Auto-pilot."
"You're just sour because the computer beat you at pac-man," teased André. Chris pulled an innocent face.
"What could you possibly mean? I am merely basking in my triumph. Away from it. In here. Where computers don't gloat over the fact that they're better than you…" he ended, glowering. The team laughed.
TBC
A/N: Sorry it took so long for the update! I was waiting for more reviews, but it doesn't seem like there will be any more coming… :cries pathetically:
Actually, I wrote four different versions of this chapter-- COMPLETE versions like nine pages long, so it took forever to write them all and then pick one to post... I'm really hoping this one was the right choice... Why don't you review and tell me if it works:)
Um… I'll try to get someone to beta this next chapter, but I thought you'd want an update more than to see 'they' transformed into 'the'. Next chapter, though!
So how was this chapter? PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW and tell me! Like where I'm going with Chris and Bianca? Or should I make a U-turn? TELL ME! Mwahhahahahahahahah! Sorry. Got a bit carried away, there.
Embry: They've pretty much hated each other ever since they met (Damien and Chris, that is).
Chelsea: My name's Amanda. I feel your pain and you feel mine. Wow, that's confusing (but so true).