Title: Saving

Summary: AU While Chris was in the past trying to save Wyatt, someone was in the future; attempting the same feat. Attempting to awaken the goodness and humanity inside his dark heart. Even the Source of All Power needs saving. WyattOC 'T' for safety. Might go up.

Characters: Wyatt and OC, among others.

Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed. There, I said it. Happy?

A/N: Two chapters in two days? I know, shocking. Please read and review. I would love to hear feedback, both positive and negative!


Ismara groaned when her body impacted the floor, and lifted her head slightly to glare at the retreating demons. "Bastards" she muttered quietly, pulling herself to her feet. Her wounds had been cleaned and bandaged rather roughly. Her split lip remained from the strike she had received.

Looking down at her attire, Ismara sighed. 'Great, just great' she thought. Her jeans and shirt had been replaced with a mid-thigh black dress that had seen better days. The left shoulder strap was frayed while the right had been completely ripped off to leave the black fabric hanging. Looking up, she took her surrounds and stiffened slightly at the attention she was receiving.

The small, dank room was filled with, Ismara hazarded a guess of six other slaves, each sitting quietly on a makeshift bed. Ismara was unable to gauge their powers and all of them stared quietly, unnerving at her. A small, brown scab on the closest young witch, Ismara assumed, caused her to look down her left arm and she bought her right hand up.

Gently she brushed her fingertip over her identical wound, a small hole from where the syringe had entered. Apparently the liquid within it dampened her magical abilities and Ismara was liable to believe it, she felt slightly hazy. Almost like her grasp on reality could slip at any moment. She felt like half of her was missing, it was unnerving to say the least.

"What? Never seen a new girl before?" she snapped at the audience she had gathered. Half the slaves flinched while the others merely turned their heads back to each other and the walls. Ismara immediately felt guilty and sighed, looking down at her feet. Her short temper was bound to her downfall, even the Resistance could tell that.

Her anger tended to build inside her before a final straw caused her to explode. Usually her spiteful sarcasm lessened her burning anger but there were times when even that weren't enough.

The war room inside the Resistance headquarters had suffered during one of those times.

Like other witches, Ismara's powers were controlled by her emotions, and when her anger boiled out of control her telekinesis soon followed.

Spotting an empty rack, Ismara stumbled towards it. 'Genius. Just genius. Allow yourself to be captured. Ain't you a regular Einstein' she mentally berated herself. She honestly hadn't meant to be caught; she was attempting to reach one of the strongholds on the outer limits. Let's just say that her attempt was unsuccessful. The rough edge of the rack came into contact with her legs and she gladly allowed her body to fall ungracefully onto the hard mattress.

Truth be told, Ismara didn't even know why she was still breathing. Everyone inside the Resistance knew the chances of being spared once you had been caught by Wyatt's forces. Despite the Twice-Blessed's comment of her being amusing, Ismara still couldn't grasp why that had stopped him from taking her life.

Well, to be fair the horn had actually stopped him but still. Ismara bought her hands up to her face and groaned loudly. Looking to her left, she saw a younger, blonde girl looking at her in confusion.

Giving a weak smile, Ismara held out her hand. "Ismara Hunt. My friends call me Mara." The young girl stared at her outstretched hand, which Ismara let fall after a few seconds.

The girl averted her gaze to the ceiling and murmured quietly, "Bell." Ismara grinned and turned onto her back to mirror Bell's stance. "Bell. That's nice." A gentle silence followed and Ismara began to fiddle with the fraying strands of the thin blanket underneath her.

"Lord Wyatt must like you." The comment was so quiet that Ismara almost missed it. She turned her head in surprise and her green eyes met Bell's. "Pardon?" she asked in disbelief. The young witch shrugged. "He must like you, for you to be in here. Most new girls are sold. But not you." Bell glanced over Ismara before returning her gaze to the dark ceiling.

"You'll be serving our Lord tomorrow, along with the others in this room. I guess you'll be replacing one of the wine girls, we lost Lena last week. One of the bounty demons didn't like the look of her."

Ismara felt a cold shiver throughout her body. "That's barbaric" she whispered fiercely.

Bell remained silent.

Ismara glanced at the entrance and saw two guards standing there. One of them turned slightly and flicked his wrist; a cold wind rippled throughout the cave and diminished the flames on the outskirts. The tiny room was now bathed in darkness. Ismara shuffled about, attempting to get comfortable and waited for her eyes to adjust to the darkness.

"Get your sleep new girl. You'll need it for tomorrow." Bell's voice echoed slightly and Ismara reluctantly closed her eyes, unaware of what the morning would bring.


A bright light, accompanied with harsh noises began to force Ismara awake. A rough, callused hand shook her awake and she grudgingly opened her eyes to see Bell. "Wake up new girl. Our work begins." Pushing her body up with her arms, Ismara blearily rubbed her eyes and attempted to de-knot her hair.

A crude brush landed heavily in her lap and she raised her eyes to see Bell's expectant look. Hesitantly she picked up the instrument and pulled it through her brunette hair, managing to pull it into a rough bun with her fringe falling in front. Mara slowly reached over and placed the brush next to Bell. "Thanks." Bell nodded; her blonde hair flowed freely over her shoulders.

Suddenly, the mass of the occupants began to form a single line and Ismara quickly followed Bell to the end. A demon appeared at the front and end of the line causing Mara to swallow nervously. She felt like she was being herded to her death. The line began to move and Ismara shuffled along. They filed though various tunnels and past rooms and Ismara realised that there was no way she would remember the route. It was akin to a dark labyrinth.

After a few minutes they came across a medium sized cave. The line immediately dispersed and each slave moved to a different station and Ismara felt Bell roughly grab her arm and pull her towards the area that reminded her of a kitchen from the old days, before the war. A tray with a pitcher and cups was shoved into her slack arms and Ismara looked up at Bell in confusion.

"Stand straight, only speak when spoken to and whatever you do, do not make eye contact or spill the wine."

Ismara rolled her eyes. "Yeah, cause I'm really going to pour an entire pitcher of wine on his evilness" she joked wryly but the smile soon disappeared when she saw Bell's serious face. Swallowing slowly she repositioned the tray. "Behave, got it."

Bell turned away, received her own tray and began to walk towards a tunnel that branched off from the room. Glanced back, she motioned for Ismara to follow. Walking through the tunnel, Ismara grimaced at the bright light that welcomed them at the end and as her eye adjusted she realised that she was back in the throne room.

Directly in front of her Wyatt perched upon his dark throne overlooking his empire. The large sea of creatures was split clean down the middle, and a long line of bounty demons filled the gap. 'They actually hold audiences?' Mara mused.

She felt a sudden jolt and looked up to see Bell discreetly pulling her into an empty position, on the left hand side of the throne. Suppressing a groan, Ismara shuffled into position and, in accordance to Bell's instructions avoided eye contact. This was going to be a long day.


The day had progressed slowly; at least that's how Ismara perceived it. The pattern seemed rather obvious to her. The demons would attempt to pawn information about the Resistance, while others brought forwards witches, demons and darklighters that they believed possessed valuable information. Wyatt would listen to all, to an extent.

The majority would leave empty handed due to the absurdity of their supposed 'valuable' information. Once or twice a demon would attempt to kill the dark lord, for reasons that Ismara didn't know. Perhaps they were sick of being commanded by the son of a Charmed One. Each time they would fail and in turn be vanquished.

Thankfully she had only been called upon once, and she had managed to serve the wine without any major spillage. Her hand had begun to cramp from holding the pitcher steady but she didn't dare move it. The next demon to approach the throne caught her eye and she watched him stride confidently up to Wyatt. "My lord," he bowed deeply. "I have information concerning the Resistance." 'Yeah you and every other joker here' Ismara thought spitefully.

"As you know the Resistance is full of cowards, murderers." Ismara's head snapped up and for the first time in hours she risked making eye contact with the demon.

"They will do anything to deal a blow to your empire, including the ruthless murder of an entire city, just to vanquish a few demons."

Ismara felt her anger rise and she glanced quickly at Wyatt. Her anger grew tenfold as she saw him smirk and nod in agreement. 'That bastard!' her thoughts become more explicit and she could fell her hands tense on the edge of the tray.

Bell looked over at Ismara and her eyebrows furrowed when she saw the Mara's tense, white knuckles. She could see Mara's control slipping at each word that spewed from the demon's mouth."I managed to breach their fortress. Their most recent plan indicates that they are preparing to attack San Francisco. They're attempting to annihilate our demon settlement there, by decimating everything in a 2 mile radius."

"That's horseshit and you know it." Ismara's barrier had broken and she could feel the anger radiating from her.

Tiny rocks about the room began to crumble and the trays of the other serving girls began to shudder slightly.

"What?"

Ismara's eyes met that of the demons and she swallowed nervously. 'Damn it.' The consequences of her rash actions came crashing down upon her. A, she had broken the rules, spoken out of turn. B, the entire cavern had gone silent and every eye had turned and now rested solely on her.

"How dare you address me?" the demon hissed. His fingers began to crackle and an energy ball formed in her hand. Mara swallowed once more. The demon flicked his wrist and the energy ball flew straight at her. Ismara scrunched her eyes and waited.

And waited.

Hesitantly she opened one eye and then the other. The energy ball hovered a few centimetres from her face. She turned her head slightly to see Wyatt's hand outstretched. He curled his fingers inwards and the energy ball fizzled out of existence.

Her eyes traced up her arm, onto his shoulder before finally raising to meet his eyes. He looked directly back at her, arm still raised.

"My lord wha –" Eyes never leaving hers, Wyatt moved his hand and silenced the demon. Ismara could feel herself beginning to fidget under Wyatt's intense gaze.

"You disagree?"

The words emerged with an edge, almost like he was baiting her to continue. Taking a deep breath, Ismara did a once more about the room and returned her gaze to Wyatt.

"Yes." Her voice quivered and she tried once more.

"Yes. I know the Resistance. They aren't murders or cowards," she added the last part glaring at the demon. "You may not agree with their purpose but you must know where their moral compass points." Noticing no disagreement from the dark overlord, she continued.

"Anyone with half a brain knows how impenetrable the Resistance fortresses are. Armies have trouble breaching the front door, let alone managing to find the war room." Ismara shrugged her shoulders. "He's lying."

Wyatt continued to stare at her, and she had a sinking feeling that he was attempting to read her mind. Feeling a phantom itch within her brain, she felt her eye twitch slightly.

An enraged roar caused their eye contact to break and she saw the demon fuming. He conjured two more energy balls and released them, flying towards them. With a slight flick of his wrists Wyatt send them back towards their creator and he disappeared into flames, an agonizing scream filling the large cavern. Silence fell.

Ismara gazed at where the demon stood, slightly in shock. She looked back at Wyatt and he nodded at her. Not a true nod, more of a tilt of his head. Ismara responded in kind before returning to her previous stance, holding the tray steadier. She ignored Bell's pointed looks, she would explain later. Right now, Ismara had to sort out her own thoughts.


Review? Any criticism is welcome, any ways to improve my writing. :D