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: Yay! Finally a new update :-) I think this chapter is still a tiny bit ropey in places, but it's definitely time to move on. There were times I thought I'd never make it to the end! I didn't quite realise how many of you had reviewed Chapter 33 either. 36 reviews for one part – it's definitely a record! I'll have to take ages to update more often (only joking!).

If you have the time, please take a quick look at my profile page because it contains some important news about my stories. Otherwise, let's get on with the show – you've been waiting long enough.

Everyone except Wyatt (and Stacey) is still in the dark about Chris being posioned, and the family are waiting to hear whether Wyatt will agree to lend him Excalibur or not… Oh and the dream sequence later on in this chapter contains quotes from the show, quotes from this story, and some original material as well. See if you can spot which is which!

OOOOOO

Last time…

"We only want to know one thing," Piper said, placing her hand over her expanding waistline in an unconsciously protective gesture. "Are you going to help your brother or not?"

Wyatt looked back at her, and then his eyes travelled over the rest of his family before they finally came to rest once again on his brother. Chris looked tense, obviously concerned by what he might reveal and 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 a whole 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 could.

His eyes flickered back to his brother's face and Chris's parting 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 choice…

OOOOOO

Chapter 34 - Brother to Brother

Present Leo found himself holding his breath as he waited for his son's decision. Wyatt's face was a blank mask for the most part, but a flicker of intangible emotion seemed to spark in his steel-blue eyes at one point in the conversation. He took an unconscious step forward, his hand reaching out towards his brother, before he suddenly seemed to catch himself and recover his lost composure.

After that, his expression became as inscrutable as ever.

Quickly following Wyatt's line of sight, Leo looked searchingly at Chris. His younger child was standing behind the couch, his hands gripping the cushions so tightly that his knuckles were turning white from the strain. He looked abnormally pale and a bolt of concern ran through the Elder at the sight.

Overall, Chris was handling his prophetic responsibility well, but every so often, he seemed to buckle under the stress of it all. As his self-appointed quest for a better future neared its culmination, the pressure on him to succeed was immense, and Leo worried that it might all become too much for him. He wished that he could ease the strain on his son somehow, but unfortunately knew that reassurance wasn't within his ability to provide.

Only Wyatt could aid in that respect, and that was the crux of the whole situation. Would he help his brother and lend him Excalibur? Or would he leave him at a disadvantage in the fight against Alcathan instead? Everything seemed to hinge on the answer to that particular question somehow. It was almost as if the entire outcome of the battle rested on Wyatt's decision. They had put their faith in the glimmer of light that still resided in the corrupt darkness of his soul, and the tenuousness nature of that faith was something that Leo was only to aware of right now.

"Well?"

Prue's demand brought the Elder's attention back to what was taking place before him. Wyatt was clearly fighting a war between his inner conscience and the need to safeguard his future tyranny, but after shooting his brother another telling look, he suddenly seemed to surrender himself to the inevitability of it all.

"All right!" he burst out in a frustrated tone. "You can borrow it. Just don't think this means I'm turning soft, all right?"

"Wouldn't dream of it, bro," Chris's voice was sharply acerbic, "I've fallen for that particular subterfuge a few too many times already, remember?"

There was an accusatory bite to that comment that Leo didn't quite understand and a quick glance at his future counterpart confirmed that he didn't either. He wasn't party to everything that had gone on between his sons it seemed. There was a distinct love-hate relationship going on there. Were his boys destined to be always at odds, he wondered sadly. After everything that he'd been through, could Chris really let go of the past in a new future? Or would the memory of what was cast a shadow over what was to be? Leo didn't like to think so, but the concern remained all the same.

While all this had been running through his mind, Paige had orbed Excalibur – stone and all – up from the basement and seeing it brought to home their next dilemma. They would have to let Wyatt out of the crystal cage. He would still be trapped inside the Manor by virtue of the magical defences that they'd set up around the perimeter of the house, but the potential was there for him to wreak havoc nonetheless.

The same possibility had apparently occurred to his other self, for he looked sternly at their son as he approached the cage to set him free. "No funny business, all right?" he warned.

"Why father," the brash young man countered with a feigned show of innocence. "Just what exactly is it that you think I'm going to do?"

Refusing to rise to the bait, Future Leo calmly ignored the sarcastic dig. "You won't make it beyond the front door is all I'm saying," he said, "So don't waste your time and energy attempting to escape."

"Don't worry, Daddy. I promise I'll be a good boy," Wyatt assured him in a distinctly mocking tone.

"Yeah well, you'll have to forgive me if I'm not entirely convinced by that," Future Leo responded dryly, as he bent to pick up one of the crystals and release his son from his crystal prison.

The cage flared brightly as the Elder took the stone away, but then the buzz of magical energy quickly dimmed to a flicker before finally going out. Rather than bursting out of his confines like an escaped convict, however, Wyatt paused for a moment to savour his freedom instead, before he calmly stepped around the remaining crystals and approached Excalibur with a measured stride.

You could cut the tension in the air with a knife as he reached out and grasped the hilt of the legendary sword in his right hand. All of them were on tenterhooks, wondering what he might do. So far, though, Wyatt appeared to be playing ball. He wasn't above laying on the melodrama however, for he withdrew the sword from the stone at an agonisingly slow pace, a hint of a smirk playing on the corners of his lips as he did so. Excalibur slid from its resting place with a metallic rasp, and then glinted and flashed in the blood-red sunlight, which streamed in through the attic window, as its owner traced out a wide arc above his head with its pointed tip.

Chris moved out from behind the sofa and slowly approached his brother, his booted feet making clip-clopping sounds on the wooden floorboards. As the two siblings drew level with each other, Piper sucked in a sharp breath, fear gripping her heart in a sudden, vice-like hold. Chris was essentially unarmed, but Wyatt held the most formidable weapon in the world in his hands. Just one downward stroke of that lethal blade and…

Piper's mind shuddered back from that horrifying image. She had to trust in her husband's belief that, in spite of the evil tainting his soul, Wyatt would never actually take things that far. He wasn't above physical violence, but to mortally wound his own flesh and blood… something still prevented him from crossing that fateful line.

Like mythical warriors protecting their prized progeny, the two Leos quickly moved to stand guard behind Wyatt, each one ready to take action should he step out of line. Prue, Paige and Phoebe had taken up similar positions behind Chris, leaving Piper to stand forlornly to one side, looking on as her estranged children took that first step along a path that she hoped would ultimately lead to some kind of reconciliation between them.

She glanced back over her shoulder at baby Wyatt then. The little boy was standing clutching the bars of his playpen, watching the proceedings with a grave expression on his small face. Piper was never sure just how much the toddler understood of what was going on around him. He had an awareness beyond that of other children his age that much she did know, but how far that went was still a mystery to his bemused mother. With a sigh, she turned back to the tense scene in front of her. She had enough to deal with already without worrying about that as well.

Wyatt was milking the situation for all it was worth. He'd made his decision and wouldn't go back on it, but there was a certain satisfaction to be gained from dragging things out for as long as possible, he discovered. He was particularly enjoying the rising tension that he could sense in his parents and Aunts as he calmly contemplated the fabled sword in his hand. Not to mention the growing irritation of his brother at being made to wait for it too.

Finally, when he judged he'd knocked them suitably off balance, he lowered his sword arm and magnanimously offered Excalibur to his brother. "Be careful, it's heavy," he warned.

Chris shot him a withering look, then reached out and closed his fingers around the hilt of the sword just above his own hand. Excalibur shuddered in response and Wyatt had to tighten his grip to stop it from slipping from his grasp as a peculiar shock ran up his arm. Although initially confused by Chris's alien touch, the quivering sword eventually seemed to accept it, and Wyatt's eyes widened in shock as he felt something very profound click together inside of him as a result.

His brother's innate goodness surged up the shining blade like a tidal wave then, filtering into his damaged soul and papering over the cracks in an effort to make him whole again. Panicking as his rigid control over his emotions started to slip, Wyatt abruptly let go of the sword and staggered backwards, his heart hammering hard inside his chest. The warm feeling inside instantly disappeared and the cold numbness of his own soul quickly reasserted itself. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was all right, he hadn't been permanently affected. Something had just provided Chris with the temporary ability to overwhelm him that's all.

Chris stared with bewildered eyes at the sword in his hand. He too had felt that peculiar merging of souls, but had recognised something that his brother had missed. It had all been Excalibur's doing. The sword had been trying to turn Wyatt back, using the good in Chris's soul to do it. The young witch-whitelighter knew it wasn't as simple as that however. Destiny required free will. Only if Wyatt willingly surrendered could he be healed in that way.

Another thing that Chris had not expected was just how docile the sword in his hand felt. From what he'd been told, Excalibur's immense power was something that most people found extremely difficult to control – his mother had fallen victim to its sway a few short months before for instance. Chris felt none of that however. While the sword's obvious power thrummed strongly in his veins, it did not consume him. Instead, it was somehow at one with who he was, working with him rather than against him.

A cry of alarm interrupted his abstracted thoughts then, and he looked up to see his two fathers flying through the air as if they weighed nothing more than a couple of feathers. Crashing into the far wall, they plummeted to the ground like lead paperweights, noisily knocking over various bits of furniture in the process. In a desperate attempt to escape, Wyatt had telekinetically thrown his two fathers backwards out of range, and Chris was just in time to see the tail end of his brother's orb as he disappeared in an incongruous mixture of black and blue lights.

Excalibur still clutched in his hand, Chris immediately orbed out after his fleeing sibling, while his chagrined fathers scrambled to their feet and dusted themselves off. By the time Chris caught up with him, Wyatt had already managed to get the front door open, and was now desperately trying to remove the crystalline defences that trapped him inside the Manor. His eyes were narrowed in deep concentration as he focused all of his brother's telekinetic power on the task.

Chris knew that they'd built the crystal cage to withstand this, but he felt a flicker of alarm run through him nevertheless. Wyatt was a thousand times more disciplined than he was when it came to this kind of thing. While he'd pushed his power to the limits of its endurance when they'd been testing out the cage, there was always the slim chance that his brother could better that. That had to be avoided at all costs. Wyatt could not be allowed to roam free. It would be an absolute disaster.

Without even pausing to think about what he was doing, Chris held up his free hand in front of his face, palm facing stiffly outwards.

"STOP!" he commanded harshly, a kind of unearthly authority shimmering in that one, single word.

Wyatt felt himself jerked backwards like a puppet on a string, helplessly subservient to his own implacable power. "Let me go!" he grated from between clenched teeth, fighting with all his strength against the unbending restraints.

"NO!" Chris set his jaw and stubbornly refused to yield.

Locked in a titanic struggle, the two brothers contended against each other in a supreme battle of wills. They were more evenly matched than either of them had realised. Wyatt's power was the greater certainly, but Chris's was nothing to sniff at either. In the right set of circumstances, the weaker could overcome the stronger; it was just a case of finding the most vulnerable point of attack.

Finally understanding why he'd never been able to persuade his brother to join him, Wyatt experienced a brief, irrational moment of anger. He quickly shook it off though, and seized upon his advantage with ruthless resolve. The power that Chris was using against him was his own, and he therefore knew exactly where to strike. A surge of triumph bubbled up inside of him as he sensed that his brother was weakening. Just a little bit longer, he thought wildly, and then…

"What the hell did you do that for?" Chris demanded of his father as Wyatt slumped heavily to the ground, felled by a judiciously thrown handful of sleep dust.

Future Leo shot his son a rather startled look. "I acquired some more this afternoon," he explained, holding up the empty pouch in his hand. "I thought it might be prudent under the circumstances. We have to return to the future soon, and I don't want him fighting me on that. He could ruin everything if he interferes."

Chris nodded, unable to disagree with his father's logic. "Sorry," he said, apologising for his peremptory tone with a deprecating shrug. "I was just, umm…"

He looked over at his snoring older brother and coloured slightly. He wasn't normally so competitive, that was more Wyatt's thing. He had wanted to win this particular contest at all costs however.

"It's all right, I think I get the picture," Future Leo remarked with a smile. "Try not to let it overwhelm you though," he continued in a more serious tone. "This is what I warned you about. Wyatt's power is not yours to keep, so don't get too used to the way it feels. You have to be prepared to hand it back when the time comes."

Chris nodded solemnly. "I know," he said, "And I will, I promise."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Good." Future Leo said with a satisfied nod.

"When will you leave?" Present Leo asked his future counterpart.

Future Leo looked thoughtfully at the sleeping Wyatt and then back at his other self. "Tomorrow afternoon," he decided. "That should give us enough time."

"Enough time for what?" Piper asked, as she came down the stairs with little Wyatt in her arms and Prue and Phoebe behind her. Paige had orbed downstairs with the two Leos a short while earlier.

"It's important that we maintain the element of surprise," Future Leo explained, "But Chris needs some sword training before he goes up against Alcathan." He turned to address his present self again. "Alagon should be able to help with that," he suggested.

Present Leo nodded. "I'll go and find him," he replied, and then orbed out in search of their Elder friend.

"But Dad," Chris objected, "I've already had sword training."

"Not enough," Leo told him firmly. "I let Alagon teach you the basics as a boy because I couldn't stand your whining pleas any longer. That's as far as your training ever went however. Wyatt was the only one who received proper combat training."

"I did not whine," Chris protested with a dull flush.

Leo raised his eyebrows in a sceptical expression. "No?"

Chris's face broke into a wry grin. "Okay, so I whined," he conceded, "But can you blame me? Wyatt got to do all the super cool things and, most of the time, I had to sit on the sidelines and watch."

"Oh I know, you were so deprived," Leo commiserated. "But for some strange reason, your Mom preferred to shield you from harm whenever possible. I think she always knew that she would have to let Wyatt spread his wings as he grew older. But I guess she was hoping that she could keep you a little closer to home."

Chris nodded sadly. It was something that he'd always been aware of. Piper had loved him and his brother equally, but the relationship he shared with his Mom had been completely different to that which had existed between her and Wyatt. Their close relationship had earned him 'Mommy's boy' taunts every once in a while, but he hadn't really cared all that much. She'd held him close but not so tightly that he couldn't breathe.

He'd been lucky really; it had been one of the main things that had sustained him throughout these last few dark years. He'd promised his Mom that he'd be brave, that he'd fight for what was right, and he'd been determined not to let her down. He hoped that if he'd achieved nothing else, he'd made her proud of him.

"I'm sure you have," Phoebe reassured him, and he stared at her in astonishment. He'd taken the empathy-blocking potion months ago – how was she still able to read him?

"The strongest emotions still come through," she quietly answered his unspoken question, even as she'd responded to his unvoiced thoughts.

"Err – excuse me, lady?" Paige stared at her sister in outrage. "How come you failed to mention that?"

Phoebe smiled, a small, enigmatic smile. "A girl has to have some secrets," she said coyly.

Paige turned to her other sister. "Are you hearing this?" she demanded indignantly.

"Yes," Piper responded rather tiredly, "But it's really beside the point right now, don't you think?"

Paige sighed. "I guess," she agreed. "We're gonna have long talk when all this over though, missy," she said with a significant look at Phoebe.

Her sister shrugged. "If you say so," she said, "But, right now, we need to get Mr Sleeping Beauty over there back up to the attic. I don't know about you, but I'd really rather avoid any more Harry Houdini acts."

Paige nodded and crossed to kneel down by her nephew. Lightly touching his arm, she orbed him upstairs in a swirl of blue lights. The rest of them followed, Prue and Phoebe hitching a ride with Future Leo and Piper transported by the little boy in her arms.

"Mommy'd prefer a little more warning before you do that, sweetie," she said rather breathlessly when she re-materialised in the attic a few moments later. "It doesn't do her nerves any good when you just orb her out like that, you know."

Wyatt giggled and gave her a toothy grin as she set him down in his playpen. His blue eyes were full of mischief and she was once again struck by how much wiser than his years that he sometimes appeared to be.

Emerging out of his own orb, Chris felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. Groping behind him for the sofa arm, he sank wearily down onto the lumpy cushions, wincing slightly when sharp, stabbing pains from the athame wound on his belly assaulted him. When the adrenaline was flowing, he seemed to be able to combat the effects of the poison leeching away at his physical strength. As soon as those hormone levels dropped though, he struggled to even hold his head up. Resting Excalibur across his lap, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply in an attempt to calm the sudden nausea roiling in his stomach.

"I think it's best if we keep him asleep," he dimly heard Future Leo say in the background, and he forced his eyes open with effort.

Wyatt was safely back inside his crystal cage. His solicitous family had placed his sleeping form on the futon provided for his use, and then covered him with the brightly patterned coverlet to keep him warm. Although he knew that any kind of reconciliation between them was highly unlikely, Chris felt a sharp pang of regret at the way he and his brother were to part company. There was a bigger, more pressing consequence that he also had to consider however.

Wyatt was the only one who knew how to save him, for Chris now believed that his brother had been telling the truth about that. He would die unless Wyatt healed him, and he didn't want to die, not now, not after everything. If he succeeded in what he came to the past to achieve, he wanted the right to reap the reward. He wanted to know his family again, know his brother again. He wanted to be with Bianca in a world where they weren't constantly looking over their shoulders, fearful of attack. All in all, he wanted to be happy again. It wasn't that much to ask was it?

Every bit of energy he expended sapped his dwindling strength even further though. Even if he did make it through the upcoming battle with Alcathan, would he have the physical strength to tell his family what was happening to him? Or would the after-effects take away his ability to speak? He had to tell someone now, before it was too late, he just had to…

A kind of dreamy lassitude came over him. He closed his eyes as a ghostly finger brushed against his lips, silencing his thoughts. Not now, not yet, it warned. Wait. If you tell now, they'll stop you, and you wouldn't want that, would you?

"No," Chris murmured absently.

"No what?" a familiar voice asked, and he opened his eyes to find his Aunt Prue standing over him.

"Nothing, I err… nothing," he stammered in confusion.

"I don't suppose I need to ask how you're doing?" Prue said, as she sat down beside him and laid a sympathetic hand on his forearm. "Freaked, huh?"

"You could say that," Chris admitted with a wry twist of his lips.

"Being scared is a good thing," she assured him.

"It is?" Chris sounded distinctly sceptical about that. "How'd you figure that?"

"It stops you from getting too complacent," she explained.

"I don't think there's much chance of that," Chris remarked.

"Well good, because in my experience, overconfident, cocky people tend to make costly mistakes. I'd remember that if I were you. It could be to your advantage."

"I don't understand."

"Well, from what I've learnt about Alcathan," Prue said, "He has an ego the size of San Francisco, the whole of America even. He thinks he's invincible, basically, and that's not necessarily a good attitude to have. He thought he could control Wyatt, but he was wrong. He's going to look at you and see a bug that he can crush under his foot…"

"Thanks for the image," Chris cut in sardonically.

Prue shot him a brief smile. "But he's wrong about that too," she told him firmly. "You're a Halliwell; you have Charmed power on your side. Plus, you were born from the most stubborn, wilful woman that I have ever known. You have great genes and, more importantly, a brother's love. People do amazing, impossible things for love, you know. As long as you keep that in mind, Alcathan can never win. It will be his downfall either way."

"I'm glad you think so."

"I don't think so – I know so."

Chris smiled. "And now who's overconfident?" he teased.

Prue reached out and cupped the side of his face in her hand. "Honey, it's not overconfidence, it's certainty. Believe me, we've already won."

She leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek then. "Now, go and take a nap, okay?" she instructed in a peremptory tone. "You look tired and you've got a long way to go before all this is over."

Chris nodded, and obediently dragged himself to his feet. His legs didn't feel quite so shaky now, but he desperately needed to rest. Knowing that he didn't have the strength to orb, he descended the attic steps on foot, went into his room and crawled into bed. He was fast asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

Prue sighed sadly as she watched her nephew leave, then turned back to find Future Leo's grave eyes upon her. She gave him a small smile and he crossed to join her. "You heard that?" she asked him.

Leo nodded. "You have quite a way with words," he said quietly as he sat down beside her on the sofa.

"I learned from the best," she replied, shooting him a warm smile. "I'm not sure he really understood what I was trying to say though."

Leo looked at her, his blue-green eyes full of sorrow. "Perhaps that's just as well," he said gruffly.

"But you understand?" she enquired after a beat.

"I understand that win or lose, a different future's already been guaranteed. Chris sacrificed everything to come here, and Wyatt just gambled his entire future in an attempt to shield his brother from harm. If Alcathan kills Chris tomorrow, then he's done the one thing that will forever put Wyatt beyond his reach. He will not be turned by his brother's murderer, no matter what happens. It will give him the strength to resist, I'm sure of it. Alcathan won't be dead, obviously, and Wyatt will still be vulnerable, but it's better than nothing, I suppose."

"If Chris wins though, all will be as it should be," Prue reminded him.

Leo nodded. "I know, I guess what's really to be decided tomorrow is which path the new future is going to take."

"And I think we both know which option we prefer when it comes to that," Prue remarked softly, curling her fingers into his and giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

"Yes, I think we do," Leo responded quietly. In spite of the consequences to himself, it was a sacrifice that he was more than willing to make. For his boys, he would do pretty much anything, and that included giving up his life…

OOOOOO

Wyatt was dreaming. Not nice, safe, soothing dreams. Painful, horrible, thought-provoking ones.

His Mom was dead. Cold and lifeless on the kitchen floor. His little brother - his green eyes stark in the midst of his pale face - covered head to toe in her blood. It stained his hands, his arms, the front of his t-shirt, a bright, scarlet red.

Wyatt desperately wanted to throw up.

Then there was his father, white as a sheet, but somehow still functioning even though the love of his life was gone, snatched away from them in the most horrible and violent way imaginable. He carried on out of love though, love for his sons, the children that he now had sole responsibility for…

The Manor was gone then, forever behind him. He stood now in the cool, still darkness of an underground cavern, his heart dead and his soul hovering on the brink of destruction…

"Your connection to your family has always held you back."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"So rid yourself of their binding shackles forever. Cast the enchantment."

"Okay," he agreed. "Not Chris though," he amended as an afterthought. His brother was still within reach, he could walk by their side, share all the riches that they were about to reap.

"You must…"

"He can be useful to us."

"He doesn't have your power."

"No, but he's not powerless either. He just needs training. I can persuade him to help us; I know I can…"

The sands of time shifted once again…

He stood atop the Golden Gate Bridge, his unruly mane of dirty blonde hair ruffling in the wind. Somewhere deep inside his fear of heights still plagued him, but he pointedly ignored it. Fear meant weakness and this was something he had to do…

"I should have never trusted you," his brother hurled the accusation at him, hurt and pain standing out clearly in his green eyes.

"It was necessary, Chris."

His brother scoffed. "Like all this is necessary?" he demanded, gesturing wildly at the rusting ruins of the once-magnificent Bridge that they were standing on. "Now that I'll never believe."

"It was for your own good," he insisted. Why was his brother so pig-headed? Why couldn't he just see? It was so much better this way.

Chris laughed, a cold, wintry laugh. "No Wyatt, it was for yours. For your own twisted sense of what is necessary." He spat the last word out with sarcastic venom.

"Chris…"

"Oh, don't worry. I won't make the same mistake again. I thought that I could bring you back, but you're just too far gone, aren't you?"

"It doesn't have to be this way, you know."

Chris shook his head sadly. "Yes, Wyatt. It does. But you just don't see that, do you? I may have a blind spot when it comes to you, but you're the one with his eyes glued shut. I'm not your puppet. This is my life; I make my own choices. You may have turned your back on everything that our family stands for, but I never will. You're wasting your time if you think otherwise."

Wyatt stared at his brother, his blue eyes openly incredulous. Was he really that naive? He'd been gentle thus far. Did Chris honestly think that he'd be able to resist if he turned up the heat, twisted the thumbscrews a little?

"And talking of wasting time," Chris went on, oblivious to his sibling's dark thoughts. "I think we're done here," And, with that, he disappeared in a plume of blue lights.

"Oh no brother," Wyatt said in a cold, deadly voice. "We will never be done."

We will never be done…

"You must destroy him now!"

He clenched his fists, fighting to stay in control. "I said no!"

"He'll never be one of us, Wyatt. Can't you see that? He is distracting you from our goal. Set this obsession with turning your brother aside. Let him go or I'll..."

"Or you'll what, Alcathan?" he quickly interrupted

"Or I'll have to take steps," the demon responded.

"Try it and you'll be sorry, old man."

"You dare to defy me?" Alcathan's voice rose to a roar. "Don't you know who I am? What I'm capable of?"

Wyatt rolled his eyes. He'd ceased to be impressed by the amateur dramatics months ago. "Last time I checked, you were some washed up, ugly-ass demon who can't rule the Underworld without my help!" he shot back cruelly. "So, unless you prefer to live in some rat-infested sewer, then I suggest you remember which side your bread's buttered. I think a little adjustment in the hierarchy here is well overdue, don't you?"

"You will not get away with this, boy," his compatriot warned him in an ominous tone.

"No? Just watch me, man. Just watch me."

We will never be done…

"Where is he, Bianca?"

"Where you can't find him!"

"You're trying my patience, honey. It's not a good idea to do that."

"Well, nothing new there then. You're just a big bully deep down, aren't you Wyatt?"

"You know, I've never really understood exactly what it is my brother sees in you, girl. I mean, you're easy on the eye; I'll give you that. But, personality wise? I would say a little improvement is in order, sweetheart."

"Says the guy with the personality of a block of wood. Chris is ten times the man you'll ever be and you know it."

"I know he's an irritating little ass."

"Ha! But he out-smarted you this time, didn't he huh?"

"Maybe, but it's only over when the fat lady sings. Remember that. There is a long way to go yet, baby. A long, long way…"

We will never be done…

"Es tu, Chris? Of all the people to betray me."

"I wasn't trying to betray you, Wyatt. I was trying to save you."

We will never be done…

"I don't need you."

We will never be done…

"Whatever else you've become, Wyatt, she's still your mother and she still loves you, even if you don't deserve it."

"Good thing you're not so sentimental then, isn't it?"

"But that's the thing, I am that sentimental. Love is the hardest thing to let go of, Wyatt - as I think you well know."

"In your dreams, Dad."

"No son, in yours."

We will never be done…

"Why are you doing this?" he asked of his brother. Something inside him needed to know.

Chris paused for a moment before he answered that fateful question. "Because you're family," he said. "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."

We will never be done.

Never, ever be done….

OOOOOO

The following afternoon…

One hand clutching his stomach, Chris leant over the toilet-bowl and retched until his eyes watered from the effort. It was getting harder and harder to keep going, to stay focused on the task at hand. His arm and shoulder ached from the relentless sword training, while his eyes were gritty from lack of sleep. The pain from the athame wound was almost constant now, ranging from a dull ache to an agony that almost crippled him. And yet, he still felt that strange compulsion not to speak, to keep his suffering to himself.

Struggling to his feet, he staggered over to the sink and looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Remarkably, his appearance on the outside did not reflect the ravages on the inside. He looked pale and tired, but other than that, you wouldn't know that his body was slowly destroying itself. Just a few hours more, he thought, and then it would all be over. Just a few hours more and then, for good or for ill, he would finally be able to rest. He could lay down his weary head, close his eyes and just sleep, sleep…

"Honey, are you okay in there?" his mother's voice came through the locked door, jerking him back into reality.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he lied quickly. "I'll be out in a minute."

"All right, don't take too long. Future Le… I mean your Dad will be leaving soon."

"Sure and umm… Mom?"

"Yes?"

Tell her, something in him screamed.

"I err…"

You'll regret it if you do, that nameless voice immediately countered.

"Chris?"

He sighed. "I just wanted to say thanks."

"For what?"

"Everything, I guess."

"You're welcome, sweetie."

He could hear the gentle, loving smile in her voice even though he couldn't see it on her face and he felt involuntary tears fill his eyes in response.

"I love you, Mom," he whispered as her footsteps retreated. "And I'm so sorry, so very sorry…"

OOOOOO

The Attic, ten minutes later…

Future Leo looked at his son. "Well, good luck," he said bracingly, even though inside his emotions were in shreds.

Chris nodded; his expressive eyes a myriad of conflicting feelings.

Leo cleared his throat and moved stiffly forward. "Goodbye was hard enough the first time," he said, "So I think I'm just gonna…" He drew his boy into a hug and held him tightly. "I love you, son."

"I love you too, Dad." Chris's voice cracked over the words. "And I'm sorry."

Leo drew back and looked deeply into his son's emerald green eyes. "For what?"

"I just wish…" Chris trailed off with a shrug, his eyes moving to rest on the still comatose Wyatt.

Leo nodded. "I think we all do," he said, "But unfortunately this is the way it has to be."

Chris forced a wan smile. "Yeah," he said in a voice barely above a whisper. "I guess it is. Just tell him that I… Tell him…"

"I'll tell him," Future Leo promised when his son faltered in what he was trying to articulate. He squared his shoulders and drew in a deep breath. "Okay, let's do this," he said resignedly.

With tears in their eyes, the four Charmed Ones recited the spell that would open the portal to the future for the final time. Ethereally illuminated by the cosmic gateway behind him, Future Leo bent at the knees, pulled Wyatt's arm across his shoulders and then heaved his son's sleeping form upright.

"I guess this is goodbye then," he said.

With a dry sob, Piper rushed forward, baby Wyatt perched on her hip, and kissed both him and her slumbering grown-up son with an almost desperate need. "I love you," she said tearfully.

Future Leo nodded. "I know. Take care of our boys, okay?" he said, briefly placing his hand over her rounded belly and then stroking little Wyatt's cheek with the crook of his forefinger. "Give them the life that they deserve whatever happens."

"We will, you know we will."

"I never had any doubts," Future Leo said with a soft, gentle smile. Then, with one last, lingering look at Chris, he orbed himself and Wyatt into the shimmering portal behind him and was gone.

As the light from the portal slowly faded, Present Leo moved to stand behind Chris, placing his hands lightly on the young man's shoulders. "Okay son?" he asked gently.

Chris sucked in a breath, and then turned to face him. "Yes," he replied, although his voice was shaking and silent tears ran freely down his cheeks. "I'm okay."

He paused for a beat and then lifted his gaze from his feet to look his father directly in the eye. "It's time, isn't it?" he said.

Leo regarded him solemnly. "Only if you're ready," he eventually answered.

Chris thought about it for a moment and then nodded. "I'm ready," he decided firmly.

Walking over to the dark-wood armoire that stood against one wall, he picked up Excalibur from its polished surface and held it up in front of his face.

"Okay, let's finish this," he declared with steely determination...

To be continued…

A/N2: Because I know some of you will probably ask - we haven't quite heard the last from Future Leo and Wyatt yet. There will be some pay-off between father and son, and between Future Wyatt and Chris as well, I promise. You'll have to wait until next time to see how it all pans out though.

So until then…

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