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. Bugger.

A/N: This is possibly the longest chapter I have EVER written, and one of the longest word documents. Thanks to Dancer96 and MONDEBUDDHA for adding 'Saving' to their alert lists and an special thanks to Marumae for her positive feedback and for adding this story to her alert and favourites lists!

Please review with any advice on how to improve characters, my writing or just if you want to say how great/horrible it was! ;D Enjoy.


Chapter 3: Confusion

"Truth emerges more readily from error than from confusion."
Francis Bacon

A low horn sounded and the large audience that had gathered bowed before the throne. Ismara had half a mind to look back at Bell for answers, but she didn't dare risk attracting any more attention. Not after today.

Keeping her head down, she saw Wyatt rise and after surveying the cavern he disappeared in a shower of dark orbs. A chill ran down Mara's spine. The girl to her right turned and retreated back into the tunnel and she followed suit, desperate to escape the throne room before any demon decided to rise and eliminate her.

The second she stepped into the preparation room she felt a sharp tug to her right and only just managed to stop her tray, pitcher included from clattering to the ground. She turned to meet Bell's furious eyes.

"What was that?" she hissed.

Ismara felt herself flinch involuntarily at the young girl's harshness. "I-I-I" Ismara stuttered and glanced quickly around the room before returning her gaze to the young girl in front of her.

"I have anger issues" she resolved with a shrug of her shoulders.

"That demon was demolishing everything the resistence stands for. They are my family! It is-was my home." She swallowed thickly at the end, and for the first time Ismara felt the weight of her capture bearing down on her. She would never see them again, her family, her friends. Feeling her eyes prickle, she looked away in shame. Shaking her head, she straightened up. 'Get a grip. At least you're alive.'

Bell's face lost its harshness as she took in Ismara's expression. She reached a hand out to lightly touch the witch's arm but was interrupted by a shove. She stumbled slightly and turned to see a demon, pushing Ismara in the same direction down a new corridor to the left.

Sighing, she turned to the front and followed the other serving girls who had formed their line once more. Bell would grill Ismara later, at the moment she would keep her head down as they were herded through the dark underworld.


Ismara shuffled through the tunnels behind Bell, rubbing her arm where the demon had roughly pushed her forwards. 'Yep that's gonna bruise' she thought bitterly. As she stumbled forwards with the rest of the line, Ismara began to notice that they had attracted the attention of passerby demons.

More attention than normal. Looking up, she saw demons huddled in corners, pointing and whispering. At her. Every few meters there was a new group of creatures, huddling, whispering, pointing. Sighing she gave the groups a sarcastic smile and nod of her head before returning her gaze to the ground.

A sharp left turn alerted her to the fact that they weren't heading back to the quarters. Sure, she hadn't really memorised the route but the corridors here were lighter, and had a redder tinge. 'Homey'. Preoccupied by her thoughts, she almost tripped over Bell who had come to a complete stop.

Looking around Ismara realised were they were. Spotted about the room there were deep craters filled with water, each possessed a layer of steam hovering just above it. A sigh managed to escape Ismara's lips. She was dying for a bath. Well, maybe dying wasn't the right term adjective considering the current state of the world.

A bundle was thrust into her arms and she looked down at it. To her it seemed akin to a dead animal skin, but looking around she realised that it was the underworld's version of a towel. Peachy. A female demon pushed her towards a spring in the far corner and, stumbling slightly Ismara reached it.

Feeling slightly self conscious, she stepped out of her ripped dress and underclothes. They were taken from her grasp and she turned around to see a young girl.

Ismara's eyebrows furrowed and the young girl gave a smile. "I'm cleaning them. They will be returned shortly."

Without waiting for an answer, she left Ismara at the edge of the pool. Looking down at the water, she dipped a single toe in, before allowing her entire body to be immersed.

The water felt like heaven, ironic considering Ismara's current location. Allowing the water to clean her body she closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall. Feeling slightly drowsy, Ismara shook her head and finished washing.

Emerging from the pool, she wrapped the makeshift towel around her body and looked about the young girl. Despite the heat coming from the pools, Ismara felt goose bumps appear along her arms. She turned around once more and started.

The young girl stood in front of her, clothes neatly folded in her outstretched arms. Without a word, she handed them over and disappeared into the back of the room. Riffling through the pile, Mara saw that it was indeed the same dress and underclothes that she had worn."Damn it, I was hoping for a new dress" she muttered to herself before dressing and searching the room for Bell.

Seeing her across the room, drying off her hair Ismara walked across the room, weaving in and out of the pools to reach Bell.

"Now what?" she asked, looking around the room in confusion.

Bell smiled and took Ismara's towel out of her hands and threw it into a pile that was located next to the entrance. "Now we eat." Bell raised an eyebrow and turned, walking over to a tunnel that branched off of the main entrance to the pools. Following, Ismara felt her stomach growl. She just hoped the food now here was edible.


Looking down at the food on her tray, Ismara repositioned herself on one of the seats within what seemed to be the mess hall for the serving girls. Looking around the room, she saw the seats spotted randomly about the room. Her head did a full 180˚ and she resettled her gaze to Bell in front of her, who was gazing at Ismara with an expectant look on her face.

Fiddling nervously, Ismara shrugged. "You seem to be treated rather humanely here. I didn't expect that from the underworld."

Bell took a bite of her food and smiled. "Lord Wyatt ensures that we are given adequate food and quarters, and in turn we serve him with respect." Bell stressed the last word and Ismara flinched.

"I know, I know." Ismara raised her fork but at the last second let it fall from her hand.

"It just infuriated me you know?" Bell remained silent. "That demon," Mara spat the word from her mouth, "standing there, acting all arrogant. And Wyatt, in all his evilness just sat there, drinking in every one of that demon's poisoned words!" Ismara felt her chest heave heavily as her breathing quickened.

Bell tilted her head. "Finished?"

Ismara sighed. "Yes."

Bell nodded looking down at her tray before snapping her head back up. "Satisfied?"

Mara scoffed and leaned back. "No. If my powers weren't dampened I would have knocked that demon on his ass."

Bell smiled at the witch's antics. "I'll admit it was hilarious to see the shock of that demon's face. Somehow I don't think he counted on the new serving girl scolding him."

Ismara opened and closed her mouth is shock. "H-how?" She swallowed. "How did you see his reaction? What happened to 'avoid eye contact'?"

Bell gave a sly smile. "Stick around new girl. You'll learn a few new tricks." Ismara returned a smile and took a few bites of her food.

A few minutes of silence passed. "Bell?" Mara looked up at the girl across from her. "Why do you think Wyatt listened?"

Bell swallowed her food and looked down at her tray for a few moments. "To be honest, I don't know." She pushed the remainder of her food about her tray. "Wyatt isn't as heartless as most make out. He will listen, if you say something of substance. Obviously he believed that your outburst held some truth."

Ismara nodded and gazed numbly down at her tray. She felt a slight shudder course through her as she remembered his intense gaze. She remembered his hazel eyes and his never waiving stare. Even thinking about it caused the phantom itch within her brain to return.

Shaking herself out of her daze she saw Bell looking at her. "You're thinking about him, aren't you?" Ismara felt her face grow slightly hot, despite her best efforts. "Yes" She confessed. "But not in that way" she hurriedly added noticing Bell's smirk.

"I just can't seem to shake his gaze. I could swear he was in here," she tapped her head, "attempting to read my thoughts." Ismara confided.

She expected Bell to laugh, scoff or look away but she did none of the above. Leaning over, she gently took the empty tray out of Mara's hands and walked to the far end of the room. Bell stacked them next to others and returned to her seat. "It is not unheard of. Lord Wyatt's powers are endless."

Ismara shrugged and continued to fiddle with the hem of her dress.

"Mara." Bell's soft voice forced Mara to look up at her newly acquainted friend. "Don't over think this. Just be grateful that you lived. Got it?" Mara's lip twitched upwards. "Got it."


After about half an hour of comfortable chatter Bell and Ismara along with the rest of the girl within the mess hall began to trudge back to their quarters. Trailing the line at the back, Ismara didn't notice the extra demon at the door until she had reached the entrance.

A syringe was pushed into her hands and she staggered to her rack, her attention focused solely upon the needle now clutched within her hands. Falling down onto the bed she glanced up to see Bell injecting herself with the liquid.

"They allow us to inject ourselves. Less painful." Bell commented never breaking her concentration. "If you don't, our Lord will sense it. He'll sense your powers and then not even your sharp tongue will save you." She finally peered over at Ismara, who continued to hold the needle within her fingers.

Mara slowly raised the needle and placed it against her arm. The sharp prick caused a quick intake of breath. Mara pushed down the plunger. She watched the liquid slowly filter out of the barrel and into her veins. Glancing around nervously, Mara stopped suddenly.

Withdrawing the needle, she looked at the few millimetres of liquid remaining. Quickly squirting it onto the ground she placed the used syringe with the others and lay down upon her rack. Ismara gave a small smile as she felt the slight feeling of her magic reawakening. She could do this.


The next day passed in much the same fashion. Ismara would be rudely awakened and she would trudge down the hallways to the serving area. Suppressing a yawn Mara looked about the earthy tunnel.

"What are you looking for?" Liz asked. Turning her neck to face the girl, Ismara gave a wide smile. She had met Liz earlier in the morning.

Bell had gone to track down a second brush when the ginger-haired, green eyed witch had come bounding up to her. It only took a few moments for Ismara to become quite taken with seemed to be older than herself, but Liz possessed a spark, energy that caused Ismara to feel slightly exhausted just by looking at her.

"A clock. Or a calendar." Ismara answered, craning her neck around the tunnel once more. "Is today Tuesday or Wednesday?" Ismara didn't expect Liz to know, or Bell who shuffled along behind her.

The day of the week didn't hold a high position on anyone's 'to remember list'. One's head was usually crammed full of codes, battle plans and guard shifts to worry about the date. In the resistence, a battered calendar had hung in the foyer.

Each year one of the leaders would reset it, with magic of course. Chris always attempted to make the calendar humorous, an attempt to lift the resistance's moral, the most recent one would shout out a new joke each day. It would work, for about a day.

A pain shot through Ismara and she struggled to maintain her smile. It had been months since anyone had heard news from Chris. The last information received occurred when he was forcedly brought back from the future. After that, the spies within Wyatt's ranks had gone silent.

Naturally Mara couldn't confide this secret with Bell or Liz. Details of Chris' mission were heavily guarded; the only reason Mara knew anything was due to a rather unfortunate accident where she had overheard the leaders talking in hushed tones. She was bringing them news from their United Kingdom counterpart when she had happened upon the conversation.

Mara had quickly slinked away before anyone had noticed her presence.

Now, in the underworld Wyatt's gaze unsettled her to a whole other degree. His eyes contained the same stunning hazel colour, almost identical to the photo of Chris that hung in the Resistance main hall, along with countless others of lost friends.

"Mara?" Bell's soft voice caused Mara to look up. They had reached the serving room and her tray was already in her arms. Liz came up next to Bell. "You okay?" Mara nodded slowly. "Yeah. I'm fine." She turned and walked out to the throne room.

Emerging, she took up her position from yesterday and quickly scanned the room. 'Full as usual.' It took the first few demons for Ismara to become unsettled. Neither Wyatt nor any of the audience below showed any signs of witnessing the altercation that had occurred the previous day.

Ismara began to fear that she had dreamed it, due to the indifference. Taking a deep breath, she risked a quick glance to her right. She started slightly and focused all her energy on holding the tray steady. Wyatt was looking at her. Straight at her.

Ismara averted her eyes to the ground and struggled to keep her heart beat under control. She could feel his dark gaze upon her and to be honest, it terrified the young witch. After a few seconds later, Mara glanced again; Wyatt's eyes had returned to the cavern and Ismara doubted that he had ever looked in her direction.

The rest of her 'shift' passed by before Mara managed to get her breathing under control.


Ismara stumbled into the serving room and leant against the nearest wall, her chest heaving and her hands had begun to shake. Her throat felt dry and she attempted to swallow. A young man approached her and took her tray.

Bell and Liz came to stand next to her. "Now that," Mara emphasised, "was scary." Bell turned to Liz and a smile graced both their faces. Mara gave a breathy laugh and ran her hands through her hair.

They proceeded to the pools, and soon after to the mess hall. After about five minutes of comfortable silence Liz gave Mara a wry smile."No pearls of wisdom for today?" Mara swallowed her food and looked at Liz, an 'are-you-kidding-me' expression on her face.

"Nope, not today. I like my life." Liz laughed and Bell rolled her eyes at Mara.

"That mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble." Mara gave a wry smile and swallowed a mouthful of food.

"So I've been told." Looking about the room at the other occupants she sighed.

Returning her attention to the two girls in front, she gave a hesitant smile. "What's wrong?" Liz asked. Ismara averted her gaze and glanced about the room once more.

"It's just-" she paused. "I didn't expect here," she motioned about the mess hall "to be so…" Mara struggled to find the right word.

"Strange? Relaxed? Unusual?" Bell inserted various words. Mara shrugged. "Something along those lines yes."

Liz collected all three of the trays and placed them in the pile at the entrance. Returning she looked at Bell and then back at Mara. "The underworld isn't as dark and unforgiving as people think. We serve, and in return we are treated fairly."

Mara gave a wry smile. "Yeah, I already got the speech from Bell over there." Bell gave Mara a bemused look. "I was just waiting for the other shoe to drop." Liz laughed and stood, along with the others in the room. Following suit Bell and Mara rose and began to walk towards the entrance. "Well don't hold your breath. I highly doubt any more footwear will fall."


Ismara let her head fall back onto the bed. Her body ached of exhaustion. A thought crossed her mind and she quickly sat up. "Hey Bell. What about that liquid-magic-blocking doohickey?" she asked waving her hands about.

Bell opened her eyes and turned to look at Mara. A look of confusion crossed her face. "It is only needed once a week. Do you need more?" Mara attempted a nonchalant smile. "No. Just curious." A silence passed between the two girls. "Well… goodnight." Mara flipped over to her other side and stared at the cave wall.

She could do this. A plan began to form slowly in her head. Glancing over her shoulder at Bell, Mara sighed. The girls were nice, and the life here rivalled that upon the surface but she needed to get back. Back to the Resistance and to her friends. Her conflicting thoughts kept Ismara awake throughout the night,

Weeks passed. Ismara's routine rarely changed. The girls would awake, perform their duties, bathe, eat and then retire to sleep. And slowly, Mara would decrease the amount of liquid entering her bloodstream, now only ¾ of the liquid surged through her veins.

Bell's warning remained in her head and each day she feared that Wyatt would sense her magic and that would be the end of her. So far, the day had yet to happen. Mara was unsure if he knew and was simply waiting for her to make a move, or if he had just stopped checking; confident that none of the girls would dare risk disobeying him.

Once or twice she had felt a heated gaze upon her, but by the time she had gathered the courage to look around the room there would be no indication that anyone even knew she existed. It frightened her to no extent.

Musing upon her thoughts, Ismara stumbled, as usual into the serving room and blearily rubbed her eyes. Yawning, she stretched her arms above her head and groaned. Looking down she saw Liz approach.

"Tired?" the girl asked a smirk on her lips. Mara grumbled, steadying her tray. "I couldn't sleep." She stated simply. Bell walked up behind Liz and took in Ismara's dishevelled state. "Not an early riser I take it?" Ismara gave a second yawn and nodded.

Ismara had no idea how she had managed to survive working with the Resistance. Along with her anger issues, she tended to become quite irritable when her sleep was interrupted. Her mind would become foggy and her magic slightly askew.

It wasn't unusual for her to speak without thinking. Unlike the majority of her companions, all-nighters were not her strong point and Mara would unintentionally snap at any that crossed her path. Sighing, Mara rubbed her eyes once more and straightened her back. She would need to contain her snappiness, at least until the day was over.

Walking out, she blinked and scowled at the bright light of the throne room. 'Isn't Elderland supposed to be the insanely bright place?' she thought angrily and took her position beside the throne.

The day passed by slowly, painfully slowly. Mara was coming to her wit's end and she rolled her eyes at the current demon peddling information. Within minutes Wyatt had dismissed him and another had taken his place. "My Lord, I bring grave news. The Scabber demons are amassing against you."

A demon wearing soiled clothes stood tall at the foot of the stairs. "They have converted their lair to an armoury. They will attack soon."

Ismara felt herself scoff at the demon. 'Seriously? Who does he think he's talking to? The Stillman sisters?' Everyone knew how mindless Scabber demons were, they could barely attack the mortals above without suffering loses.

Hearing an unusual silence, Mara raised her head and saw every eye looking at her… again. Glancing about the room Mara cursed. 'Damn. Done it again.' She thought angrily and looked up at the ceiling in disbelief. She really needed to see a therapist.

The demon looked at her and growled. "Let me guess, you disagree?" Sarcasm laced his voice.

'Obviously' Mara thought, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. A sudden murmuring filled the room and Ismara peered over at the demon to see an infuriated expression. 'Oh crap.'

"Did I say that out loud?" she shrugged her shoulders. "My bad."

The murmuring rose and Mara mentally groaned. She just didn't know when to shut up. This was one situation were being a smart-ass would not help her cause. Glancing over at Wyatt, she was surprised to see a bemused smirk adorning his face.

"Fine. Enlighten us." The demon hissed at Mara, and she swallowed loudly. 'Don't say anything. Don't take the bait.' Naturally Ismara's brain was well behind her quick mouth. Altering her stance slightly she looked straight at the demon.

"A. Scabber demons are morons. Everyone knows that. They can barely aim let alone organise a coordinate attack. B. Their lair is guarded. There is no way you can manage to enter it without gaining a few acid burns." Mara looked down at her wrists that were spotted with scars.

"Even I know that. So either you had the wrong lair, or you're much smarter than we give you credit for." A sinister chuckle sounded to her right and Mara looked over at Wyatt. 'Well, at least he still finds me amusing' She thought sardonically.

A hesitant laugh followed the dark ruler's, and rang around the room. Ismara's brain finally caught up to mouth and she cringed. She had definitely gone too far. The previous outburst had a purpose, to defend the resistance's integrity.

Her scolding a few minutes ago was formed out of pure spite and Mara feared the consequences. Last demon, her speech had been refined, whereas her little talk to the one in front was fraught with sarcasm. She took in the demon in front, waiting for an retribution. She didn't have to wait long. Electricity began to crackle about his fingertips. 'Not again.' Ismara highly doubted that Wyatt would come to her rescue a second time.

"Stop." The low voice caused the hairs on Mara's neck to stand up and a tremble ran through her body. The demon halted and looked over at Wyatt. "Go. Leave with what little dignity you still possess." Extinguishing the energy ball in his palm, the demon shimmered out a scowl still fixed upon his face.

Ismara daren't look over at the throne again. Perhaps if she remained silent, the entire room would ignore this outburst as they had the previous one. Perhaps she could just remain inconspicuous until the end of the session. The problem was Ismara had no idea when that was.

The waiting was the hardest. Her body tensed at every noise and her breathing would quicken in response to anything resembling a horn. She just wanted to get out of here, and maybe find a demonic therapist down here. Either that or become a voluntary mute.

The low horn eventually sounded and Mara's body flooded with relief. As standard, Wyatt rose. Mara waited with baited breath for the witchlighter to orb out. And waited. Daring a glance over at Liz, the young witch gave an almost unnoticeable shrug.

The creatures remained bowing. Wyatt waved a hand over the audience, dismissing the entire cavern. "What the hell?" Mara whispered fiercely. Puzzled, the entire cave followed the gesture and flamed, shimmered and left via other means. The serving girls looked equally mystified for a few moments.

Bell slowly began to walk towards the tunnel and Liz and the others followed. Breathing a sigh of relief Ismara turned to go, she could almost taste the freedom.

A quick flash in the corner of her eye was Mara's only warning before she felt a hand grab her arm and restrain her in a death grip. Her momentum caused her stumble back slightly but she quickly regained her footing. Mara's heart beat increased ten fold and her breathing quickened.

The hand was freezing against her warm arm and Mara could have sworn that she could feel her skin slowly turning to ice. Her throat had gone dry and Mara was sure that her tray would have indents from where her hands were gripping it.

This was it. She had gone too far and now, now she was completely and utterly screwed. Everyone had warned her that her short temper and quick mouth would be her end, and for once Ismara wished she had listened to them.


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