FALSE MEMORIES

My first posted story here. Also my first Charmed Fanfic, although I have written fanfiction for other shows.

Disclaimer: The characters in Charmed do not belong to me. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.

Summary: Loved the Piper/Leo/Chris family dynamic in Season 6 so that's when this story is based. Set after Chris-Crossed and Prince Charming. Nobody knows who Chris is yet, but they're about to find out, courtesy of an unexpected visitor from the future…

Notes: Hi! New update for you. Just to let you know, I've been having a few problems with the site recently. I haven't received any email alerts for the last week, so if you've PM'd me I won't know. The same thing happened a few weeks ago. I got nothing for about a week and then they all arrived at once – weird!

I also tried to reply to the signed Chapter 32 reviews earlier today and got review reply denied messages for some of them. If you left a signed review and haven't received a reply therefore, that's the reason why – please don't think I'm not grateful for your review.

Anyway, let's get on with the show. I've put in a bit of a recap so you remember where we're at with the story. Oh, and I've taken a bit of dramatic licence with the legend of Excalibur btw!

OOOOOO

Last time…

"I want to know who ordered the ambush on me the other day, and don't even think about suggesting it was a random attack."

The demon glared at him in silence, his eyes glittering with open enmity.

Chris made a noise like a buzzer sounding in the back of his throat. "Strike One…," he intoned threateningly.

"It was Kreegor who…"

"Strike Two," Chris interrupted the demon's obvious attempt at avoiding the question. "You were the one with the athame. That makes you the Head Honcho. A task like that wouldn't be entrusted to an underling."

"All right, all right, but I never met him personally..."

"Strike Three…"

"I'm telling you, I don't know who he was!" the demon exclaimed rather shrilly. "It was a business arrangement, okay? He approached me and he kept his face covered the entire time!"

A sudden chill ran down Chris's spine. Demons were notoriously egocentric. They couldn't resist lording it over their subordinates if they got the opportunity. There was only one demon alive who would deliberately conceal his identity during a transaction like this…

Alcathan.

Despite the ominous connotations of his attacker's identity, Chris was immediately transported back to any number of childhood scrapes he'd gotten himself into. By attempting to track his assailant down, not to mention using his brother's powers so blatantly, he'd probably alerted Alcathan to the fact that they were onto him.

'Oh shit!' he thought in chagrin. 'My Mom is so gonna kill me!'

OOOOOO

Chapter 33 – Wyatt's Dilemma

Once the initial shock of his discovery wore off, Chris's mind went into overdrive. The last few hours had been exercise in futility, he realised. If Alcathan was behind the attack on him, then the curse slowly invading every cell in his body would not be easily overcome. It would take an immensely powerful bit of magic to reverse it and even then…

'I'm going to die.'

Surprisingly, this bleak insight didn't hit him as hard as one would expect. Ever since he had opened the portal to the past all those months ago, he had known, deep down, that this would be the likely outcome. It had a certain ring of inevitability about it. Victory didn't come without sacrifice; several generations of his family had already proved that, his future Mom being the last in a very long line of soldiers down.

That thought registered more strongly with him than the last. He would not – no, strike that - could not let that happen. So what if he was essentially a walking dead man, he wasn't going to go down without a fight. Saving Wyatt and hopefully his Mom was the only thing that mattered to him now. He had to get the job done, while he still had the physical strength to do so. Moreover, the element of surprise was the best advantage he had…

As the demon hit the floor like a sack of potatoes, Stacey stared at her grim-faced friend in open-mouthed shock. "Chris! What are you…?"

He had killed the first demon by accident – or so she'd thought. But this… this couldn't have been anything other than deliberate. With an expression of steely determination on his face, he'd calmly held up his hand and resolutely crushed the life out of his victim with an unequivocal sense of purpose.

"Burn them," he ordered her curtly.

"But…"

"Just do it!"

Stacey obeyed without thinking, stirred into action by the peremptory note of command in his voice. Holding out her palm, she focused her power on the two demons and they promptly burst into flames as a result. She didn't leave it at that however. Under her direction, the fire grew hotter and hotter, turning from orange to yellow to white and finally to blue as it transcended the mere physical and entered the realm of the supernatural. When she was done, no trace of the demons remained, not even a scorch mark on the floor. It was as if they had never existed, which she presumed was exactly what Chris wanted.

His bleak nod of satisfaction confirmed that. "It'll have to do," he remarked shortly, then grasped her firmly by the wrist and orbed the two of them back to her apartment.

"Are you going to explain what that was all about?" Stacey demanded after the unexpected orb. "Or am I supposed to just guess?"

Chris merely answered her question with one of his own. "Is there anywhere you can go?" he asked her urgently.

"Go?" she queried with a puzzled frown.

"Yes, away from here, away from San Francisco."

"But why would I…? Chris, what's going on?"

Chris pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and his forefinger. "I miscalculated," he told her gravely.

"I don't understand…"

"Alcathan. He's the only demon I know of who is reluctant to show his face."

"What? You mean he…" Stacey trailed off as she realised what he was suggesting

"Yeah," Chris replied heavily. "He used you as bait to get to me, and that should have been the end of it. But I took you along with me today and used my brother's powers to kill those demons as well…"

"But he can't know…"

Chris scoffed. "Wanna bet?" he said. "Magic like that leaves a mark, Stacey, undetectable to most but to a demon as powerful as Alcathan… Well, let's just say, today was like waving a giant flag in front of him and announcing that I'm a direct threat to his dominion."

"He already knows that though, doesn't he? Why else would he send those demons after you?"

"I was getting in the way of his plans for Wyatt that's all. I was an inconvenience, a fly to be swatted, nothing more. But now… now I'm much more. By getting rid of the evidence so to speak, I've hopefully bought myself a little more time to prepare, but I have to act before he finds out. This is all about to go down, Stacey and I need you far away when it does. I can't risk you being used as some sort of collateral against me."

Stacey stared at him, a sinking feeling of horror in the pit of her stomach. A few days ago, she'd been an ordinary witch going about her daily business without a care in the world. And now, by virtue of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, she was suddenly part of this huge good versus evil battle. A battle that the fate of the entire future rested upon if Chris was telling her the truth.

"So, is there?" Chris said, pressing her for an answer. "Anywhere you could go, I mean."

"Umm…" she thought about it for a moment. "Chicago," she eventually decided. "There's a three day art seminar that I'm attending next week. I'm staying with a friend from college – I could call him and say I've decided to fly in a few days early, I suppose."

Chris nodded. "Do that," he instructed. "I'll orb you there tonight."

"But what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Chris…"

He sighed. "I'll call you," he promised.

"Every day?"

"I might not be able to…"

"No," Stacey interrupted sharply. "You call me every day. If you don't, I'll know that… well, that… You just call me, okay?"

"Okay!" Chris answered in a slightly irritated tone.

"Look, I know we haven't known each other very long but I care about you, Chris. And your family… well, your family love you. I understand why you feel the need to focus on what you came here to do right now, but you at least have to give them the chance to try to save you. You owe them that – you owe yourself that."

Chris nodded. "All right, but not until afterwards. Healthy or not, there was always the chance that I wasn't going to make it through this alive. They know it and I know it. If I miss my opportunity chasing after some non-existent cure, whether I live or die will be irrelevant. I want my life to count for something, and if this is it then so be it."

"You're braver person than me," Stacey remarked softly.

Chris shook his head. "No, not really. I've just had to survive, you know? Okay, so I'm obsessed with saving Wyatt right now but I have this dream … of a better life for myself, my family, my friends. It's the hope that has kept me going over the years and… and if it's gone, then there is nothing left for me to fight for. My future is just a mass of grey, a black and white world with no hint of any colour in it."

Stacey looked at him. "I don't know what to say," she said quietly.

"There's no need for you to say anything," Chris assured her. "Call your friend and pack your things. I'll be back in a couple of hours to orb you out of here."

Stacey nodded and he orbed out, leaving her to ponder the truths that had just been revealed to her. She'd never really considered it before, what being a witch really meant. It was simply a part of who she was. She'd taken it for granted that more powerful among them, such as Chris's family, would keep the demon population at bay. It wasn't her fight, she reasoned, it was theirs.

It was only now that she realised that her powers were not simply an optional extra; that they had been given to her for a reason - to do good. It was time to stop drifting along in silent apathy. The good fight was just as much her responsibility as it was the Halliwells, something that her niece had recognised at an early age, judging by the way that Chris spoke of her. She wasn't much, but she could contribute in her own way and she resolved to do that from now on.

She was, however, intelligent enough to realise that this particular battle was way out of her league. It was definitely one to let the Wicca elite take care of. She just didn't expect them to be so… well, personable, she guessed. They weren't mythical beings to her anymore. They were real people and one of them just happened to be her friend…

OOOOOO

The Manor…

Seated on one of the wicker seats in the sunlit conservatory, Piper watched her son play with a strange kind of melancholy. He sat, a little blond angel, surrounded by a myriad of his toys – soft-play building blocks, a large plastic car and a book that sang a different nursery rhyme whenever you turned the page.

As the tinny refrain of 'Twinkle, twinkle little star' burst forth from the book, she felt a sharp kick against her ribs, the baby in her belly adding the weight of his opinion to his brother's giggles of approval. She placed her hands protectively over her bulging stomach and sighed.

"One of you is going to have to talk to Chris," Phoebe said quietly, as she watched her sister covertly from the vantage point of the lounge doorway.

The two Leos were sitting side by side on the sofa, looking for all the world like a pair of identical twins, while Paige, along with the recently summoned Prue, sat in the armchairs either side of them.

"I know he's a grown man and used to his independence," she went on, "But all this worry isn't doing Piper or the baby any good. He needs to learn to be a bit more considerate of her feelings."

Future Leo sighed. "I'm sure the last thing Chris wants is to cause Piper any distress," he said. "He's just used to fending for himself that's all. It's been a long time since he's had family around to watch his back."

"You watched his back," Paige reminded him.

"Yes, but only from a distance and Chris was never really aware of it. Wyatt's false memory spell saw to that. In his eyes, he's been on his own since he was sixteen."

"Well, he's not now and it's time he realised it," Phoebe said firmly.

Future Leo nodded. "I'll talk to him."

The sound of orbs distracted them from their conversation then. Out in the conservatory, Piper rose to her feet as fast as her pregnant belly would allow. "Where have you been?" she demanded of her son, who flinched back from her sharp tone while still managing to stand his ground.

"It's a long story," he told her abruptly, "And we've got bigger problems to deal with right now."

"Like what?" Present Leo asked as he and the others came in from the other room.

"I, umm… Hey Aunt Prue!" Momentarily distracted, Chris grinned at his eldest Aunt in greeting.

"Hey!" Prue replied with an answering smile, and then looked at him expectantly. "What 'bigger problems'?" she asked.

"Well, umm, I thought I'd try and find out more about those demons who attacked Stacey the other day," Chris started to explain.

"Didn't we decide that she'd been selected as part of their 'witch-baiting' game?" Paige said.

"Well yeah, but it seemed too much of a coincidence that it happened while I was in the vicinity. You'd think they'd check for the presence of someone who might get in the way first, wouldn't you?"

"I guess."

"So?" Future Leo prompted when his son didn't immediately continue with his story.

"Well, I was right," Chris said slowly, struggling against the curse's desire to stay his tongue.

"You were the target you mean?" Piper asked, a note of fear entering her tone.

Chris nodded imperceptibly. "And it wasn't just someone who thought it'd be fun to target the Charmed Ones' whitelighter either," he went on. "They were specifically after me."

"How do you mean?"

"Well, he did say he wanted me out of the way," Chris admitted blandly, choosing his words carefully in order to circumvent the magical interdiction he was under.

"Wait, are you saying that Alcathan was behind this?" Present Leo asked.

Chris couldn't directly answer that, but his unsuspecting family took his silence as confirmation rather than realising that.

Paige whistled. "You were lucky to escape with just a scratch then," she said.

Chris forced his lips upwards into a rather grim smile. "Yeah," he agreed, "But I may have also dropped myself in it. The demons backed me into a bit of a tight corner and I had to use Wyatt's vanquishing power to get out of it."

"And this is a problem because…?" Prue said, as the two Leo's exchanged a distinctly worried look.

"Because it pretty much screams 'someone with awesome magical power' from the rooftops," Chris told her.

"You mean you exposed yourself?" Phoebe said.

Chris grinned for real this time. "Well, not literally," he quipped, "But in magical terms, I certainly announced myself as a contender, yeah."

"Which is why we need to step up the timetable of our plan before this gets back to Alcathan," he went on, while his listeners digested this unwanted piece of information. "With the demon rumour mill being what it is, I would say I've got about forty-eight hours of anonymity left. I have to act before then or I'm toast."

"But you're not ready yet," Piper said fretfully.

"Mom, I'm ready as I'm ever gonna be," Chris said. "There's just one more thing I need to try out. And for that, I need to know where you moved Excalibur to."

"I orbed it down to the basement before we summoned Future Wyatt," Paige said. "I didn't think it was a good idea to keep it in the attic while he was here."

"How do you know about Excalibur anyway?" Phoebe asked her nephew. "You weren't around at the time and I don't remember us telling you anything about it."

Chris laughed at her cluelessness. "That thing gives off one serious aura of power - you think I haven't noticed it every time I've set foot in the attic since you brought it here?"

Phoebe frowned. "It does? I don't feel it – do you?" she turned to her sisters.

"No," Paige shook her head. "Piper?"

"I umm… kind of, I guess…"

"But that doesn't make sense; I'm the one with the power of empathy!" Phoebe exclaimed.

Future Leo smiled at his sister-in-law's indignation. "It's not about that, Phoebe. It's about the blood of the chosen one."

"Come again?"

"I don't pretend to know the ins and outs of it all, but Excalibur affiliates itself with one particular person – a chosen one if you will."

"Wyatt."

"Yes, and it recognises him by his blood. He's connected to it through that. Piper and I can feel Excalibur's power because we're his parents – we gave him his blood. Chris feels it more strongly because he essentially shares the same blood as Wyatt - just a different genetic variation of it."

He looked over at his son then. "The ability to draw Excalibur is not strictly one of your brother's powers though, Chris. It has more to do with who he is. I don't know whether it's something that would be affected by the power-switching spell."

"I know, but it's worth a try isn't it?"

"Well, it'd certainly be an advantage," Leo concurred.

"So, let's find out shall we?"

A few minutes later, they were all gathered in the dimly lit basement, Prue with her baby nephew perched on her hip. Present Leo pulled the dustsheet off Excalibur and nodded to his son. Chris moved forward and wrapped his hand around the hilt of the sword. He could feel it vibrating against his palm and a kind of wild excitement filled him. When he tried to remove the sword from the stone however, nothing happened. It was stuck fast, wouldn't budge even when he threw all of his physical strength behind the attempt.

"Well, that's that then," he said dejectedly, a bitter taste of disappointment filling his mouth.

"Not necessarily," Future Leo said thoughtfully. "I've done a lot of research on the legend of Excalibur. It won't let you draw it, but it might let you handle it."

Present Leo nodded his agreement, as something from his borrowed memories rose to the surface. "The Knights of the Round Table," he said.

"You do know you're not making any sense, don't you?" Prue told them irritably, as she set a squirming Wyatt down on the floor.

"If the future had happened as intended, if Wyatt had turned out good, then things would be different," Future Leo explained. "He would not have walked alone, Arthur never did."

"What? So you're saying that he'd have his own set of Knights?"

"Metaphorically speaking, yes," Future Leo replied. "And it stands to reason that Chris would be one of them."

"And the Knights could handle Excalibur?"

"I don't know for sure, but it's a possibility. They are an essential part of the legend after all."

"So if I…" Piper moved forward and grasped hold of the sword. She pulled and… it wouldn't move. Her eyes widened in disbelief.

"You're not planning to give it to Wyatt," Future Leo explained. "Excalibur won't permit that. Your purpose is to safeguard the sword for Wyatt's future, nobody else's."

"But this is for Wyatt's future," Piper protested.

"It's a sword, Piper. It doesn't understand the subtleties of that. Its awareness isn't that sophisticated."

"So how do we get the sword out of the damn stone then?"

"Wyatt has to do it," Present Leo answered for his future counterpart. "Excalibur will allow someone else to use it, but only if he gives his permission. Well, that's the theory anyway."

"Okay little guy," Phoebe said, leading her nephew forward by the hand. "You be a good boy and let your brother borrow your sword, all right?"

Little Wyatt turned his blue-eyed gaze on his Aunt and then looked back at Excalibur. A crease of concentration appeared in the centre of his brow and the sword slid partly out of the stone in response. However, it then began to shudder violently, protesting the movement and refusing to be drawn completely.

"What's going on?" Prue demanded. "Why is it doing that?"

Future Leo was frowning. "I think that maybe it's confused," he said slowly. "It doesn't know which Wyatt is the real deal…"

The shuddering suddenly stopped then, and Excalibur resealed itself back in the stone with an echoing clang.

"Are you sure it's supposed to be good?" Paige asked her brother-in-laws acidly.

"It doesn't understand the concept of good and evil, Paige. I'm guessing it chose what it thinks is the stronger connection –adult rather than baby Wyatt. That doesn't mean all is lost though."

Chris scoffed. "Come off it, Dad. As if Wyatt is going to hand me a weapon that'll help eliminate his hero. He doesn't want me to succeed."

"He equally doesn't want you dead," Future Leo retorted. "Yes, he's evil but he does still care on some level. Not breaking the connection between you and Wyatt was the biggest mistake Alcathan ever made. He left the potential there for your brother to betray him. We've already seen it happen once – Wyatt's the one in control in the future, he rejected Alcathan's leadership for some reason. I'm more convinced than ever that it had something to do with you."

"This is different though. This time he'll be handing me the power to destroy him."

Future Leo shook his head. "No, he'll be handing you the tools you need to defend yourself. Even with Excalibur, there's no guarantee you'll succeed. I don't believe Wyatt will let you go into this fight at a disadvantage, Chris. His conscience – what's left of it – won't let him. I think he'll play the odds, gamble on a fifty-fifty chance."

Chris sighed. "I wish I could believe that," he said, "But I'm not sure I have your faith."

"You've nothing to lose by asking him."

"No, I guess not."

"We'll come with you," Present Leo said, placing a reassuring hand on his son's shoulder.

Chris shook his head. "No, no… I need to do this on my own. Whatever the outcome, I need to… I have to say goodbye."

His father nodded in understanding and Chris closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steel himself for the confrontation. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself and then orbed upstairs.

"Do you really think Wyatt will do this?" Piper demanded of her future husband.

Future Leo let out his breath with a sigh. "I'm playing a hunch," he admitted," But I still think there's a chance."

Piper swayed slightly on her feet and Present Leo quickly reached out to steady her. "I don't know how much longer I can stand this," she lamented tearfully, turning into his embrace.

Present Leo wasn't sure what to say to comfort her, so he simply held her close while the rest of the family looked on, their faces wearing identical expressions of sad resignation. None of them wanted it to be this way but, equally, they couldn't see any another option…

OOOOOO

The Attic…

Wyatt was intensely annoyed with himself.

He was letting his family's little mind-games get to him. Emotions he had kept locked inside for years were straining against their shackles, demanding that he deal with them… And he didn't want to deal with them, damn it! Human emotion was for the weak and he was NOT weak!

It was essential that he focus. The family needed a distraction and revealing Chris's secret was the perfect way to accomplish that. He just needed to find out what his brother was so intent upon hiding from them… This, of course, was easier said than done when Chris hadn't come within speaking distance of him for hours now. It was so frustrating! He was used to being in rigid control of every aspect of his life and now, a horrible sense of helplessness was consuming him. He didn't like the out of control feeling it engendered one iota…

A twinkling orb sound broke into his reverie then, and he turned sharply at the telltale noise. "Well, speak of the devil," he drawled when his brother emerged from the glittery blue lights, "I was just thinking about you."

"Am I supposed to be flattered?" Chris responded flatly, folding his arms across his chest as he forced himself to meet his brother's piercing gaze.

As their eyes met and held, Wyatt took the opportunity to take in his sibling's altered appearance. Chris looked older somehow, less innocent. His face appeared gaunt and angular, but his expression was still pugnaciously determined. He also looked unnaturally pale, the greenish pallor of his skin emphasised by the dark smudges under his eyes and the beads of sweat standing out on his forehead.

"You're sick," Wyatt stated matter-of-factly.

"What?" Chris started in shock and Wyatt knew he'd hit the nail on the head. "No, no… I'm fine."

"Why haven't you got Dad to heal you?" Wyatt ploughed on, ignoring his brother's attempts to deny the situation.

"I did. It came back," Chris blurted before he could stop himself.

His eyes widened in amazement. The curse had so far prevented him from speaking freely about what was happening to him, but somehow Wyatt didn't seem to be included in that. How could that be? It didn't make any sense.

"What do you mean 'it came back'?" his brother demanded.

"I…," Chris faltered, completely thrown by this unexpected turn of events. All right, so he knew that he couldn't trust Wyatt as far as he could throw him, but he still might be able to help.

"I… I think it actually made it worse," he admitted. "I guess your buddy Alcathan has a seriously twisted sense of humour, huh?"

The colour literally drained from Wyatt's face at that. "Drohomeride," he stuttered, his composure slipping in the face of a terrible realisation.

"Drohomer… what?"

"It's a mutated form of darklighter poison," Wyatt explained bleakly. "Alcathan developed it. It acts slowly but whitelighter healing accelerates its effects. It's… it's generally thought of as universally fatal."

"Generally thought of?" Chris questioned, seizing on the three words of lingering hope in an otherwise grim pronouncement.

"I… Michael – he got hit by one of Alcathan's trigger happy guns for hire," Wyatt explained, referring to a whitelighter that they'd both known growing up. A whitelighter that Wyatt had captured a few years back and, as far as Chris knew, killed in cold blood.

"He was more useful to me alive so I tried to heal him and well… it worked, but only after I'd taken him to the brink of death first. Alcathan was staggered. He thought he'd made a poison immune to every magical method of healing and here I was debunking that theory."

Despite the circumstances, Chris felt a certain measure of satisfaction at that. He could imagine how Wyatt's magical superiority must have stuck in Alcathan's craw. That's if his brother wasn't just making all this up as a cover story for a different agenda of course.

"Let me guess," he remarked acidly. "The only whitelighter who has managed this is you. All the rest have ended up killing the people they're trying to help."

Wyatt nodded and Chris snorted derisively. "So, let me get this straight, the only way I can be healed is with a power that I can't use on myself, a power that I'd have to give back to you in order for it to be effective. How very convenient. Just how stupid do you think I am, Wyatt?"

"This isn't a bluff, Chris!"

Chris let out a hollow laugh. "And I'm supposed to take your word for that, am I?"

"I would heal you, you know."

Chris inclined his head in acknowledgement of the point. "Maybe, but it wouldn't be done as a charitable gesture, would it? Thanks but I think I'll pass, if it's all the same to you."

"I'll tell Dad!" Wyatt threatened.

"I'll tell Dad!" Chris mimicked scathingly, "What are we? Five? Besides – who do you think he's going to believe? You? Or Me? Please!"

"It won't be a case of believing me," Wyatt retorted. "I know how Drohomeride works – it has to be absorbed directly into the blood stream, which means you have one hell of a nasty wound somewhere. He'll listen enough to check that out, whether he trusts me or not."

Temporarily flummoxed, Chris stared back at his brother, knowing that he was probably correct about their father's reaction. He'd made a decision earlier though; he would not let this derail him from the task he had to perform. He didn't want to give up on life, but he intended to secure the future before he fought for the right to live in it.

His eyes narrowed calculatingly. "I'll just have to make sure there's nothing for him to find then, won't I?" he declared.

"And exactly how do you plan on doing that?"

Chris's lips twisted into an ironic smile. "I think you've forgotten the power from which you were born, Wyatt," he taunted mockingly. "A little Charmed magic goes a long way, you know."

Lifting up his t-shirt, he tugged off the bandage and held his palm out over the seeping wound on his lower abdomen. "Let the scene of objection become but a dream," he intoned. "So for those in the dark, the truth remains unseen."

The skin on Chris's stomach shimmered like a mirage in reaction to the spell and, although he could still see the nasty-looking cut, Wyatt knew it was now invisible to anyone who wasn't already aware of his brother's condition.

"You're crazy," he said, aghast at the lengths to which his sibling was prepared to go in order to achieve his goal.

"Pot and Kettle, Wyatt," Chris replied. "Now, seeing as we've got that sorted, shall we move on to the real point of this conversation?"

"You mean this isn't a social call? I think I'm actually hurt."

"Somehow I seriously doubt that," Chris replied before finally getting to the salient point.

"I need you to lend me Excalibur," he said, seeing no reason to be subtle about the request. It was a black and white situation. Either his brother would help him or he wouldn't – period.

Wyatt laughed. "And why would I do that?"

"Out of the goodness of your heart," Chris suggested incongruously. "Apparently, I'm your Achilles' Heel."

Wyatt's expression darkened at that. "I don't need you," he retorted.

"Yeah, you just keep telling yourself that. Maybe one day you'll actually believe it."

Wyatt studied his brother carefully. "Why are you doing this?" he eventually asked.

"I…" Chris opened his mouth to give his stock answer to that question, but then stopped short. Maybe it was time for the truth; it was the last time he would ever get to say it.

"Because you're family," he said simply. "Because I know that the person you've become isn't really the true you, that the brother I used to have still exists inside you somehow. And because I love you, I guess."

For once, Wyatt didn't make any sarcastic comeback, nor did he register a response to his brother's pronouncement. Chris nodded. The uncharacteristic silence was enough.

"I have something I have to do right now," he said calmly. "Whether you allow me to use Excalibur is your choice, but I need an answer by the time I get back."

"Oh, and just so we're clear," he added, turning back on his way to the door. "I am going to do this – with or without your help."

And with that, he left.

Wyatt resisted the urge to grab the bars of his crystal cage and shake them until his teeth rattled from the magical energy. How had he lost the upper hand? He'd had Chris on the back foot initially, but he'd pushed things too far, caused his brother to go on the defensive. He could still reveal what he knew of course, but without proof…Chris was too much of a fast talker for that to work effectively, and Wyatt knew it. No, he'd have to be significantly more subtle than that, bide his time and wait for the right moment to strike.

Except Chris didn't have that much time, he reminded himself. He had never wanted his brother dead, despite his constant betrayals. What he really wanted was to bring Chris round to his way of thinking. He'd been in awe of Alcathan as a teenager but not any more. His ambitions were so prosaic, those of a five hundred year old demon, and Wyatt wasn't even twenty-four yet. With youth and Charmed power on his side, his brother would be a much more suitable partner in crime, except that he seemed to have this inexplicable ability to remain uncorrupted even under the most intense provocation.

It was an obstacle that Wyatt hadn't counted on; he'd expected his brother to just fall in line, especially after he'd removed their father's influence from his brother's life. Where Chris had developed this sudden martyr complex from, was anyone's guess. It was seriously annoying to be quite frank. Unable to see a clear path through his own twisted sense of reality, he just didn't understand what it was that Chris believed was worth dieing for. Life was so much simpler this way.

And die Chris would – whether it be due to the poison in his veins or at Alcathan's hand, the outcome would be the same. The question was - could he turn down his brother's request for help? Despite the evil running through his veins, he still believed in fair play. He was a competitive sort and had a healthy respect for those who opposed him. It made crushing them all the more satisfying. Opponents who didn't offer any resistance were boring; subduing them was no fun.

Injured and without every possible weapon at his disposal, Chris would be the underdog in this fight. By helping him out however, he'd be increasing his brother's chances of success, and thereby potentially destroying everything he'd worked so hard for over the last few years. It was a Catch-22 situation if ever there was one…

OOOOOO

Stacey's apartment…

Leaning her weight against the lid to aid in the task, Stacey drew the zipper around her hastily packed suitcase, and then transferred it from the bed to the floor. As she wheeled it out into the lounge space, Chris orbed in and she smiled tentatively at him in greeting.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

Stacey nodded. "I called Paul," she said. "He wanted to pick me up from the airport but I told him I'd get a cab. He thinks I'm already in Chicago so I'm glad you're here. He's going to start asking questions if I don't show up at his place soon."

"He doesn't know you're a witch?"

"No, it's not the easiest thing to drop into a conversation, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Chris said. "Okay – I need you to think about where you want to go. Just make sure it's not somewhere out in the open. The general public tend to freak out when people materialise out of thin air."

Stacey nodded and held out her hand towards him. His fingers closed around hers and the next thing she knew, she was standing in a secluded copse of trees directly across from Paul's apartment in Chicago.

She turned to Chris. "You promised you'd call," she reminded him.

He nodded. "I know and I will."

"So – this is goodbye then?"

"Yeah, I guess it is."

Knowing that this could very well be the last time she ever saw him; Stacey stepped forward and hugged him tightly. "Good Luck," she whispered.

"Thanks – I think I'm gonna need it," Chris said as he returned her hug. He stepped back and nodded towards the row of brightly lit apartment buildings. "Go," he urged.

Shooting him a tight smile of farewell, Stacey turned and made her way across the street. As she reached the front door of Paul's apartment block and pressed the buzzer, she heard the faint sound of orbing and quickly looked back over her shoulder just in time to see the departing stream of blue lights.

"Hey, it's me," she said when Paul answered.

"Okay, come on up."

The door clicked and Stacey pushed it open before taking the short elevator ride up to Paul's spacious second floor apartment. He greeted her at the door with a wide smile and a friendly hug.

"So what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?" he asked as he ushered her inside and took her coat. "Has some insane guy dumped you again?"

Stacey laughed. "No, I just…" she faltered, wondering whether she should tell him the truth. She was distinctly on edge and he was bound to notice that.

She and Paul shared a curious kind of friendship. It was entirely based on their mutual love of art. They'd been in the same study group at college and helped each other through various professional crises of faith. They'd never socialised much outside of that though. Even after college, meeting up was always tied into some art event – an exhibition in San Francisco for instance, the grand opening of Paul's art studio a year or so back, another prime example.

She knew him though, without needing to know his life story. People revealed their personality in their art, and a trained eye could read the subtle nuances of that in the brushstrokes of colour and the choice of subject matter. She knew he was open enough to the spiritual to take her Wicca heritage in his stride, but was it fair to burden him with it?

"Stacey?" Paul's voice was gentle, concerned, which prompted her to lift her eyes to his questioning gaze.

She took a deep breath and gathered her courage. "There's something I need to tell you…"

OOOOOO

The Manor…

"So did Stacey make it safely to her friend's?" Present Leo asked as his son orbed back in.

The rest of the family were seated around the kitchen table waiting for his return and, more importantly, Wyatt's decision.

Chris nodded. "Hopefully out of sight means out of mind where Alcathan is concerned. I feel responsible for dragging her into all of this."

"It wasn't your fault, Chris. You've done everything you can to ensure her safety, that's all you can do."

"Well, I hope it's enough," Chris replied before turning his attention to other matters. "Right – I guess I better go and find out what big brother has to say."

The entire Halliwell clan rose to their feet and he regarded them nervously, not knowing what Wyatt intended to do with the clandestine knowledge he was in possession of. "Maybe I should talk to him alone," he suggested warily.

Future Leo shook his head. "No," he told his son firmly. "If he's going to refuse you, then he can do it in front of the family."

Chris shrugged, knowing there wasn't really much point in arguing with them. He was just going to have to take the risk and see how it all played out. They trouped up the stairs in procession and, as a result, Wyatt was on his feet and waiting for them when they finally reached the attic.

"So," he said, folding his arms nonchalantly across his chest, "To what do I owe this particular pleasure?"

"I think you know," Future Leo told him coldly.

He turned and looked at Piper, who stepped forward so that she was in her son's direct line of sight. "We only want to know one thing," she said, placing her hand over her expanding waistline in an unconsciously protective gesture. "Are you going to help your brother or not?"

Wyatt's eyes travelled over her and the rest of his family before they finally came to rest on his brother. Chris looked tense, obviously concerned by what he might reveal. He smirked.

'Worried, bro?' he said, projecting the thought rather than speaking aloud.

Chris's reaction was not what he expected. He suddenly seemed to sway on his feet and had to grab hold of the back of the sofa to keep himself upright. Something that felt a lot like concern rippled through Wyatt's body, an emotion that he did not want to feel right now, not when it was essential that he remain detached.

"Well?" his Aunt Prue demanded, her eyes boring into him and making him squirm like only the female members of his family ever could.

His eyes flickered back to Chris's face and his brother's earlier words rang inside his head once more.

'Oh, and just so we're clear. I am going to do this – with or without your help.'

Damn and blast it! He had no other choice…

To be continued…

A little hint of Wyatt's decision there, so hopefully it's not too much of a cliffhanger!