Disclaimer: Blah blah. Not mine!
Chapter Ten: Past Mistakes
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When he was younger, Chris's school had a system of sending notes back home with troubled students. These notes would need to be signed by a parent and brought back if you didn't want to face further consequences. Chris had... a great deal of these notes. Sometimes more than one a week. It was in the years when Wyatt had moved up into the next school and he was left to his own devices. Devices that usually ended with snot nosed classmates picking fights that Chris really couldn't conjure the urge to ignore. He had a monster of a temper back then, easily tweaked and slow to simmer down.
He'd be kidding himself if he said that he didn't have that temper anymore. He could say that he had a much finer control over it though, instead of the firecracker impulses of the years before, he'd honed his temper into something colder and more stable. However, unfailingly there was one thing that could set him off. Chris really, truly, disliked those who hovered in the overworld, looking down on the lowly witches, commanding them to clean up all their messes.
He'd been under the impression that the only people he really had to curse were a bunch of holier than thou clicky elders... but now he had this.
Clarence's hand on his arm tightened uncomfortably as soon as Chris's expression descended into something much less friendly. Chris just sent him a look and jerked his arm sharply out of his grip. He'd been under the impression that Angels of Death weren't like the other immortal good guys in at least they didn't pretend to know how to live your life better than you did, but Clarence seemed to be trying to ruin that reputation.
"Great," Chris snorted and glared flatly, "Just what I need, more holy meddlers to come and order me to do things they're not brave enough to do."
If he believed even in the slightest that it was possible, he would have walked out of the fake manor right then. He even entertained the idea that this was all some kind of miserable dream or that they were lying and there really was no source of all good. Really, if there had been one before now, you think that they would have shown up at some point. But then again, that was the nature of the supposed paragons of good, now wasn't it? Cowardice.
Chris turned a flat look at the girl, knowing there was nothing else she could be. There was something there he couldn't identify. At the same time, she looked more like a girl... a rapidly aging girl, but a girl. The source dipped her face behind her hair, lips pressed together in slight embarrassment. Chris felt a little bad at being so rude to someone who looked no older than one of his older cousins, but at the same time, his temper was demanding attention. He crooked his eyebrows up at her, tired of waiting.
"I," She started lamely, eyes flickering up to him, "I would like to say that I could do this myself, but I can't. This pocket realm is as close as I am allowed to get to the real world. To even be here right now is... difficult. I swear, though, I'm here to help."
Chris's expression flickered to one of annoyance, "Right, I've heard that before. You going to give me some nonsensical scrap of information so you can pretend like you helped, and then try to kill us if we get too powerful."
The Source sighed lightly, threading her fingers together, "I know what the Elders have been like and I'm sorry for what they've done." She actually looked a little annoyed herself, "They think they are doing right, but they're misguided. They haven't heard me in a long time. Some try... but I don't think they really remember me enough to know how." She shook her head.
"They don't know you're here?" Chris asked in disbelief.
She shrugged, "None of them were around the last time I was able to speak."
Chris's disbelief morphed into curiosity, not even bothering to hide his stare at the girl, "You're telling me that, instead of talking to the elders, you're talking to me? ...why?"
Once again, the girl and Clarence exchanged one of those conspiratorial looks that Chris didn't like at all. He returned it with a look dripping in all the sarcasm he could muster, which was quite a lot.
"Christopher," Clarence began somberly, "We would like to tell you a story."
2:45 pm
Evil training was not going well. Bianca's earlier assumption that Wyatt didn't have a lying bone in his body was perhaps more of an underestimation than she had thought. Not only were his bones sickening truthful, but so was every cell, hair, and shred of clothing. The only thing the "training" was accomplishing was giving her a severe headache and the theory that Chris was, in fact, adopted. She wasn't aware two people could be so entirely different and yet still have comparable DNA. Then again, Chris hadn't been told he was the paragon of all good since before he was born.
Wyatt had an overbearing, well, she couldn't call it fear, but extreme reluctance to be evil in every respect. The very idea seemed to make his skin crawl. She was starting to blame herself. Since she told him that he was technically the Source of all Evil, with all of those demonic powers bubbling under his skin, waiting to overtake him the minute he gave in even a little... well, that just didn't help with him pretending to be evil. Every time he almost got the idea, he'd immediately pull back.
He didn't say as much, but Bianca knew from experience, the inky black feeling of demonic powers creeping into your soul was terrifying, and the idea to giving in to them was even worse.
"Okay," She held up her hands in half surrender, circling around to face an annoyed looking Wyatt. She blinked at the image, "Oh hey..." She said distractedly, "Hold that face."
Of course the expression immediately dropped into one of confusion, "What?"
Bianca let it go, mind reeling around to another tactic. "I'm going at this all wrong. You don't need to memorize all this demonic etiquette, you just have to do one thing."
Wyatt crooked an eyebrow, growing more than a little tired off all this, "and that is?"
"Just look annoyed and keep quiet." Bianca smirked. "Just imagine it, if you don't know what these people are talking about, just glare at them..."
"...and they'll supply the information for me." Wyatt's eyes lit up. He'd seen this happen with demons all the time. Some minion would withhold something and one look from an upper level demon would have them spilling as much information as their demonic tongues would allow. The demons would just assume he was pissed and stay out of his way.
"Yeah," Bianca nodded, "and for all the other times, I'll step in and take over. But," she slowed and mentally winced as she continued, "If I do step up and correct you or even partially look like I'm more competent than you, you have to reprimand me. You can't have someone looking better than you when you're the Source of all Evil."
A grin snuck up onto Wyatt's face, "So you're telling me I have permission to insult you..."
Bianca's eyes narrowed dangerously, "Don't get used to it. As soon as this is over, I will kick your ass for every time you abused that power, and don't think I can't."
Wyatt wasn't in the least bit threatened, hands raising up in false surrender, "I'd never abuse your trust like that, I treat all my half demon acquaintances with respect."
Bianca glared, "I am not a-"
Once again, the room's doors slammed open with all the subtlety of an elephant marching band. The two turned, expecting to once again see the small troop of guard demons that had intruded earlier, only to find themselves staring down a new batch. These ones looked a great deal more imposing, uniforms a little bit more clean cut. They didn't bother to kneel either, making only short bows at the hips before they marched the rest of the way into the room. Wyatt only remembered at the last moment to wipe any trace of a smile away.
The row of demons stopped a few feet away, the middle one continuing up to stand in front of them. He was a brittle, grizzled example of a demon. Human in appearance, but obviously old, scars lacing his face like some demented sewing experiment. His eyes were only slits with rust red irises shining behind them. Bianca felt herself tense as he walked up, not knowing exactly who he was but knowing a serious threat when she met one.
Those rusty eyes slid in her direction as soon as she lowered her own look of demonic indifference. The gaze only stayed on her for a bare moment, but she could tell he'd gleaned more than enough information in that time.
"I thought you were dead." The demon's voice slipped out of his mouth, raw and obviously tinged with hatred for her.
Bianca just tilted her chin up a hair more, no idea of what he was talking about but knowing the answer anyway, "You think it would be that easy?"
A cold look was enough of an answer from the demon before he seemed to dismiss her entirely in favor of Wyatt. "We have a report from Camelot."
Wyatt crossed his arms strongly, remembering every word Bianca had said. He only crooked an eyebrow at the demon as a gesture for him to continue. He tensed his own muscles for a fight, sure that he couldn't pass for some kind of evil overlord. The scarred demon didn't even bat an eye, continuing on with the same bored voice.
"Your brother was sighted in the third tier."
Wyatt couldn't stop himself, "Chris?"
The demon looked very much like he wanted to lift an eyebrow but didn't, "Unless you have any other siblings who are a constant thorn in my side, and if you do, please let me know." The demon rolled his eyes. Wyatt didn't even have to fake the glare that time, he would have already vanquished the demon if he didn't want to know what he had to say. The demon noticed the look, and seemed as cowed as he was likely to get, "Like I said... He was in the third tier, probably doing something for that pitiful resistance of his. He trashed three blocks and vanquished three of my demons with a holo-screen." The demon's gaze stretched over to Bianca again, "We wouldn't be having this problem if your assassin here hadn't of failed in her mission to kill him."
"Be. Quiet." Wyatt barked the order, voice ice cold. The scarred demon stepped back a pace, the closest approximation of fear on his face. Even Bianca found herself slightly startled, even as she was ready to slice the demon's throat herself.
The demon seemed to gather himself, straightening his clothes, and sending an annoyed look up to Wyatt, "Aside from that, you are needed at central. If you'd follow me..."
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"Years ago, it was a dark time for magic." The girl started, eyes far away, "Even though I can't be there, I watch, and it hurt. So many lost, so many good turned to evil. The world lost a lot of its hope and even the non-magical could feel it. I watched for so long that I couldn't stand it. I couldn't keep going as I was, so I reached out. I looked for someone who I could rest my hopes on.
"I found a boy. Good and pure. He was everything that the elders ask of a witch. He obeyed the letter of wiccan law, never used his powers for personal gain, dedicated his time to the craft and saving innocents. The perfect candidate. I reached out to him and gave him the power to change things. The power to change time."
Chris's heart dropped into his stomach. The Source looked absolutely ashamed, head hanging, it was the only thing that kept him from shaking some sense into her.
"You're talking about him?" Chris spat out. The Pale Man, the guy who'd made his day a hell.
"He wasn't always like he is now." Her head sank lower, "The power I gave him isn't like the sort the Cleaners or Angels have, it isn't even like the powers those misguided Avatars think they have. It's faceted. This power, in combination with being a witch, someone who fully masters it would find little to no limits in it. It's..." Her eyes cast about for the word, "intoxicating. It drove him insane."
"Power does that..." Chris commented quietly, thinking back into his darker years as the evil Wyatt came into possession of more and more power, each driving him more crazy, more murderous.
"He did good at first," She defended, still looking guilty, "but then he ran out of evil to fight, the pressure of his life became too much, and it consumed him."
Chris pressed his fingers to his temple and closed his eyes, throwing all his immediate impressions aside so he could look at the problem objectively. He followed the lines of the story back, making connections as he did, trying to find some obvious solution.
"You gave him the power," He opened his eyes for a second, looking warily at the Source. "Why can't you just take it back. Suspend his power like you did Phoebe's." He asked the question with little to no hope that it would actually help. If it were that easy, they would have done it before now.
Clarence was the one who spoke up then, shaking his head, "They tried and failed. Someone with this power has the ability to be outside of space and time, the Angels and Elders have no power over him."
"Great," Chris sank back into his chair, dreading the next question, tensing like someone who knew they were about to be hit but had no ability to get out of the way. "What do you need me for?"
Once again the source's eyes slid over to Clarence's, looking for support. Neither of them looked like they were pleased about what was going to come next. Clarence shifted in his chair, sliding on the edge and turning to Chris, eyes soft, "We can't take the power from him, but a transfer of power is possible. You can-"
"Bullshit." Chris spat the word out even before Clarence was finished talking. "No way, nuh uh. You're going to have to find someone else to take the crazy evil time powers. That might be Wyatt's thing but it's not mine. My thing is telekinesis and being an asshole, and I abuse even that. Go find someone else to clean up your mistakes."
"There is no one else." The Source broke in, slamming her hand on the table and drawing their attention back to her. She'd aged again, hair now hanging midway down her back, eyes a little more wise. "The reason I was so eager to award that power was because there were certain requirements that had to be met to give this power away and these requirements are very rare. I didn't think it would happen again. The biggest one-"
"No way," Chris eyed her, already knowing the answer before she said it. The one thing he had that Wyatt didn't, "Half Elder. Crazy guy is half Elder."
The Source nodded, "There is no one else." She reached behind her neck, unfastening a necklace that had been hidden under her hair, the light flashing off the bit of of metal catching Chris's eye. Reverently, the girl wrapped the black chord up and slid the necklace across the table where it shined harmlessly between an assortment of scrabble tiles. Chris chose to just stare at it like it was poisoned. It looked harmless enough, just a shined slip of metal hammered into a familiar shape, no more than two fingers wide, three small metal beads on each side of it, all hanging off a beaten old leather cord.
"A triquatra?" He asked idly.
"Yes," The Source answered, "It's the most powerful symbol wiccans own. This necklace will allow you to transfer his powers over to yourself. You'll know how to use it when it's time. It would only take a moment."
Chris stood angrily from his chair, stalking to the other end of the room and back, trying to find a way to fully express his disgust for this situation. Sitting there in front of him was a way to end this all in a heartbeat. He could take it and have everyone back where they should be before they could really process all this. He could handle that power... hopefully.
Chris stopped, not believing that for a second. He was already halfway cracked ast it was, he couldn't survive that. He turned back to the two, "I'll go insane too, won't I?"
"It's a possibility." The source answered quietly.
"And if that happens?" He pressed.
The Source's eyes met his, all of a sudden filled with all the wisdom in the world, "We have safety measures and will do whatever is necessary to keep you from harming anyone." Chris held that gaze for as long as he could stand it, trying to find exactly what she meant. He didn't really have to, he knew what he'd do if he was in her place. He turned back around and started to pace again.
"This isn't an order," The Source said, ignoring Chris's sarcastic look he shot back at her, "This is your choice. We can only ask."
"No thanks," Chris broke in as soon as she'd finished, making the decision before he could second guess himself, "There's another way, the rules from before still apply. If I change this world back to the good version it should still revert. I will make things right without turning myself crazy." He said the words with more conviction than he felt, even as the tiny voice in the back of his head nagged at him. He looked back down at the necklace on the table and back up to the eyes of the Source. It was then that the inherent realist in him broke through and he snatched the thing off the table by its cord.
He pointed a finger at the two of them, necklace trapped in his palm, "As the very last resort, you understand?"
The Source nodded sagely, "It's probably time to send you back."
Chris nodded in agreement, wanting to be as far away from these two as he could, but then a thought occurred to him. He turned narrowed eyes back to them, "You said this guy was half Elder. Which Elder?"
Clarence crooked an eyebrow knowingly, "Gideon."
A/N:
Okay, this chapter took way longer than it should have but I had a minor epiphany half way through and realized I'd have to change some things to make this run smoother. I had another two scenes I was wanting to put in this chapter but I think I'll let it wait until next time so you guys don't have to wait another three days. Anyway! Here ya are.