Archive of Our Own

Just a Mortal

The market place was filling up with people at quick rate. Wyatt was glad they had opted to come early, because they were soon not going to be able to wander around. He glanced at the list of groceries his mother had given him.

“So, what are we missing?” Melinda asked as she peeked over his shoulder. Her basket was filled with half the items, along with a few extras. Neither of them were excellent cooks- Wyatt had even been banned from the kitchen –but they could pick up the ingredients necessary for a good meal.

“Carrots, tomatoes and zucchinis,” he announced before lowering the list. “I think mom mentioned something about berries being cheap right now.”

Melinda hummed and glanced at the stalls.

“Mom likes going to that guy…” her voice trailed off and her eyes narrowed. “Benji’s or something, I think?”

“You go grocery shopping more often than I do,” he replied. “Any idea where to find him?” No answer. “Mel?”

His sister had frozen on spot, her skin had paled, and her eyes grown wide. Something had caught her attention, something important. And-

“CHRIS!” 

Before he could stop her, he watched her drop everything and run. He was about to pick up the basket when what she had just said registered and he followed her at once. People parted on his way and he arrived just in time to see Melinda tackle a man. Said man yelped as they both tumbled backwards and crashed on the pavement. Even from afar, he heard his sister crying.

“-you! It’s you, you’re here! I’m so sorry I didn’t mean it, I didn’t mean all the things I said, I’m so glad you’re here, you’re alive, you’re safe-”

Wyatt slowed and finished approaching by foot. The stranger on the ground was holding Melinda by the waist. He had short dark hair, pale skin, dark stubble on his cheeks and chin. He looked up at his arrival, blinked a few times, had the face of someone wondering ‘what the heck is going on right now’?

He also carried the face of a beloved family member.

“Chris?” Wyatt blurted, his heart slowly pounding louder. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be his brother. Not right there, in the middle of the marketplace, in San Fucking Francisco out of all locations. They had been looking all over the world. He couldn’t have been so close by. Not without them realizing… “You were here the whole time?”

People around them were starting to stare. He ignored them all. His focus was set on the man who was still holding his sister, looking more and more uncomfortable.

“You’re mistaken,” he finally spoke, and his voice sounded both light and eerie. “I don’t know you and I would very much appreciate it if you could just…” he tried to gently push Melinda away again.

Wyatt felt the disappointment plunge into his guts. He bent forward, gently grabbed his sister’s arm and pulled her back.

“Mel,” he whispered. She was shaking. “I’m sorry Mel, let go.”

His sister shuddered, tensed and reluctantly released him. He helped her up, held her tightly against him. Her eyes were red and rimmed with tears, looking devastated. She kept staring at the man like he was the only real thing existing in a land of illusions. The man stood up and removed the dirt on his clothes. He was tall, not as tall as Wyatt, but taller than most people he knew. When their gaze met, he was struck by their intensity. Green, he noted. He has green eyes.

“But you-“ Melinda started, her voice shaking. “You have to be him. You have to be-“

“Look,” the man spoke quickly, fidgeting under the others’ stares. “I don’t know you. I don’t even know any ‘Chris’ in my entourage.”

Melinda sobbed a little louder and buried her face in Wyatt’s chest. Wyatt kept staring at the man. He wasn’t sure what to feel. The stranger showed absolutely no sign of recognition, eyes distant, expression neutral. His body language betrayed discomfort, but that was clearly due to the attention they were gathering. But the resemblance was…

“I apologize,” Wyatt said. “Wyatt Halliwell, and this is my sister Melinda.” Still no hint of recognition. He could have called himself John Martin, it would have drawn the same reaction. “You –my brother, Chris, went missing a long time ago. You look like him. A lot. We thought…we are still looking.”

The man’s expression softened.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he said. He paused, hesitated, and added almost reluctantly: “Drew Fuller. I hope you find him. I’m sorry.”

He picked up the bag of fallen groceries, turned around and walked away. Wyatt watched the silhouette melt among the crowd and slowly disappear from view. It almost felt like Chris vanishing again. Melinda didn’t move for a very long time, her breath still short and irregular.

“It wasn’t him?” she asked, sounding scared to hear his answer. “I thought it was him.”

“I don’t know,” he replied honestly. He used to have a bond with Chris. It had broken the day he vanished. He hadn’t felt anything with this man, but something…something in his guts whispered he shouldn’t stop at that. Not yet. “Let’s go home Mel.”

He released her. She wiped her eyes, met his.

“We’re going to check, aren’t we?” she asked quietly. He nodded. Then she laughed a little: “Mom’s gonna be pissed about the groceries.”

Wyatt pressed his lips together. He stared in the direction ‘Drew Fuller’ had vanished.

“We won’t tell mom a word about this,” he declared. “There’s no need to upset her. I want to be sure first.”

Melinda hesitated before nodding quietly. They both turned around and went back to pick up their abandoned groceries. Hopefully, they would find some answers back home.

Red eyes glowing, distorted hands reaching for him, a rictus on the man’s face. He kept running, feeling that presence in his back getting closer and closer.

“C’mon little boy, you can’t run forever…”

And then he hit the dead end, a high wall impossible to climb, and he thought –this is it, this is the day I die-

Drew woke up gasping for air, his heartbeat racing like he had just run a marathon. He felt sweaty, dizzy, many things at once, and it took him almost a few moments to gather his senses. He wasn’t in empty streets, being chased by a running nightmare. He was in his girlfriend’s apartment –their apartment, he mentally corrected himself- sitting on the couch, apparently having decided to take a prompt nap after an eventful morning.

“So, good sleep?”

Bianca looked down at him with that teasing smile he loved so much. A flash of his nightmare came forward. He reached out for her arm and gently pulled her down. She settled on his knees, let him hold her against him and burry his face into her neck. She was warm, heavy against him, grounding him to the present.

“Not really,” he said. “Tuaris again.”

Her hands ran into his hair. He felt the responding shiver run down his spine.

“Drew,” she whispered, and he felt another shiver as she called his name. “If this is too much for you, I could always…”

He shook his head. They had that discussion before. Many times actually. Those always ended the same.

“Not making me some potion to make me forget everything, or alleviate the pain.” He kissed the curve of her shoulder. “I can still handle a few bad dreams.”

He kissed her again, reeled in the softness of her skin, in her scent, in the warmth of her body. When she began to move around, he released her and she straddled his thighs. He reflexively grabbed her bottom –so she wouldn’t fall, of course. One look and he was calculating how long it would take him to strip her out of her clothes. Anticipation ran through his veins, chasing every hint of fear away, and he couldn’t help but grin.

“Something funny?” Thankfully, Bianca didn’t look offended. Her eyes had this aroused glint he kinda felt proud drawing out of her, the kind that, should he be efficient, would soon shift into pleasured.

“I don’t need potions when I have you,” he blurted honestly. “You make it all go away.”

Bianca looked a little pleased with that. Her chest rose as she breathed, right at the perfect level. He checked out the low neckline. Her lacy black bra was peeking from underneath her top…  

“Eyes up here, mister.” He obeyed. “If they get worse, tell me. I want to make sure a demon isn’t using its powers to get something out of you.”

“You take such good care of me,” he cooed, amused and touched, before kissing her softly. When they parted, he realized she was very serious.

“You will tell me, alright? I’m not losing you because you got cocky against a demon or a warlock.” Her fingers dug into his hair in such a strong grip he could barely move his head anymore. “You are a mortal, Drew. I won’t let some bastard hurt you.”

When she watched him with such possessiveness, he found her absolutely irresistible. In those moments, he didn’t care who she was, what she was, whether she was siding with ‘good’ or ‘evil’. All of those notions went over his head anyway. Bianca was Bianca, a witch, a woman, a goddess, an angel and a demon all at once, and she had sunk her claws so deep inside his soul there would be no letting go. He didn’t want her to let go either. She was the one light in his life, had been ever since she saved him from that red-eyed demon nearly two years ago.

“Yes ma’am,” he breathed, mesmerized once again.

He didn’t care if he had to go through nightmares and face a world he didn’t understand just to be with her. She was his future, and that was the one thing he was certain of.

“Good,” she replied, gave him another long, lingering kiss. Then, she pulled back, patted his cheek and added: “Let’s keep the performance for dessert. I’m hungry.”

He groaned, let his forehead fall in her neck. He was the cook today, after all. All the ingredients were ready, he just had to throw them on the fire and heat them up. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the only thing heating up right now.

“You are evil,” he protested.

“The faster we eat, the faster the reward,” she said, laugher in her voice. “C’mon Drew, you know I’ll make it worth your while.”

She got off his knees, held out her hand. Resigned and a little frustrated, he took it and let her help him up.

“E-vil,” he repeated before giving her one last kiss. “You deserve I burn your food.”

She laughed again.

“I have a few urgent things to do for work,” she confessed. “If I get them done in time, I’ll be free all afternoon.”

“Fine,” he mumbled. “I’m holding you onto your word.”

She caressed his chest and left at that. He watched her walk away to her home office, lingering on her perfect behind a few seconds, before forcing himself to look away and headed to the kitchen counter. He turned the gas on, mixed everything that needed to be mixed, slid the pre-cut veggies on the stove. As he watched over the cooking food, his mind wandered back at this morning’s events.

Those two looked so certain he was this ‘Chris’. So desperate for him to be their lost brother. He felt a little bad for them, but he wasn’t it. Well, he didn’t think so. He had no family he could recall of. His name was just something he picked up the day the police officer had to file the form. Thirteen years already…

“Smells amazing.”

Bianca’s voice drew him out of his thoughts and he focused back on the task at hand.

“Haven’t burned it yet,” he warned.

He heard her chuckle, felt her stand behind him, wrap her arms around his waist and rest her head upon his back. He put his free hand over her arm, squeezed it gently.

“So, are you ready to tell me what else is upsetting you?” she asked quietly.

“I had a nightmare about a very traumatic part of my life babe,” he pointed out. “I would be upset for that alone.”

She pressed a kiss to his shoulder blade.

“But that’s not all, isn’t it?”

“Thought you had work to do,” he pointed out.

“The big parts are done, I can finish the rest later.” She kissed him again, tightened her arms around his waist. “Tell me, Drew. I’m listening.”

He wondered how she did it. He never had to say a word, she would guess his moods in one glance. No-one ever managed to get him so easily. Perhaps it was one of those witch senses? Empath wasn’t one of her powers though…or maybe that was just a woman’s intuition?

He lowered the gas, put the wooden spoon aside and turned around. Her hands now rested over on his hips.

“I met those…people. At the marketplace.” She nodded, encouraging him to continue. “They said I looked like someone they lost. Someone that went missing,” he amended. “Their brother.”

Bianca watched him carefully.

“You’re wondering if they might be saying the truth,” she guessed.

He sighed, closed his eyes and leaned forward. Their foreheads touched, just like anytime he felt he needed to keep himself grounded. It worked once again.

“I’m an orphan,” he said, even though she already knew his story. “They found me wandering in the streets when I was still a kid.”

Covered in blood and ashes and speaking nonsense, or so the police report said. He didn’t even remember his own name, only that he had been running from something. The cops suspected he came from an abusive household because of the scars on his body. He’d been troubled, placed in many foster houses, never quite settling, never quite belonging. His only talents were hiding and cooking. He never went to college. He kept tiptoeing around the line of troublemaker until he met Bianca and put his shit together, because she deserved far more than what he had to offer.

“I think the brother they lost was older,” he went on. “I mean, there is a difference between ten-ish and twenty-three-ish, and they ‘recognized’ me at first glance.”

Bianca nodded again, pulled back and kissed his forehead. He let her, reeled in the gentle touch, and admitted what bothered him the most:

“The guy looked familiar.”

She pulled back, lifted his face and met his eye.

“Familiar?” she repeated. He shrugged.

“I don’t know, maybe I saw his face somewhere before. In the street or…maybe my mind was just playing tricks on me. Wouldn’t be the first time I saw things that weren’t there.”

Bianca caressed his cheek. He closed his eyes this time. What was he doing? He didn’t need an extra family. If he had run away from abuse, he shouldn’t want to find them again, should he? And Bianca…how could he move forward if he couldn’t let go of his unknown past in the first place?

“I’m sorry I’m such a mess,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I can’t get a grip-“

Her hand moved to cover his mouth. The warning glint in her eye shut him up.

“You stop right now, Drew. Yes, you’re still a bit of a mess and you have unsolved issues from your shitty childhood. I. Don’t. Fucking. Care.” She removed her hand. “You are clever, you are brave, you are persistent and stubborn. You are getting back on your feet. You even have a job you tolerate.” He smiled a little at that. “I love you for what you are, in spite of those issues. You keep me grounded. Get that?” He nodded, his throat tight. “So don’t hold back, don’t ever hold back and tell me what’s bothering you. Tell me everything. I want to be here for you, okay?”

He nodded again.

“I’m a good cook too,” he offered in attempt to alleviate the mood. She smirked.

“Yes, you are.”

“And I’m good in bed,” he added, pushing his luck a bit.

Bianca rolled her eyes.

“Yes, you are,” she said. He grinned a little. “Such a man.” She paused. Frowned. “Doesn’t it smell like burn?”

And Drew remembered the still cooking lunch.

Wyatt stared outside the window of his bedroom. He had elected to stay at the manor that night. Melinda had to return on campus because of her upcoming exams and since they had sworn not to speak of the incident, didn’t have a perfect reason to stay at home. His eyes drifted on the corner of the room, where a second bed was set up, made up and ready to be used, but empty.

Thirteen years ago, Chris and he were attacked by a red-eyed demon. They had been walking from school, in plain daylight. The demon just had time to grab Chris and vanished before Wyatt could do anything, even lift a finger. No witnesses around, just a blink of an eye and he was gone.

Then, the oddest thing happened. They forgot about him.

Just like that.

One day, they were searching frenetically for the missing ten-year-old boy. The next, they couldn’t remember he even existed. For over a decade, Wyatt was convinced he was the only boy of the Charmed Ones’ legacy, that he only had one sister. Everyone was convinced there never had been a second son. Everyone forgot they had loved another little boy in their household. No-one thought of taking out the family pictures, no-one wondered why there was a second bed in his bedroom, no-one realized Wyatt had far too many clothes and half of them didn’t fit.

If not for the photograph…

He still remembered that day. Melinda had been going through old cardboard boxes, searching for something –he didn’t remember what –and she had stumbled upon a forgotten book on expecting mothers. She also found a picture inside.

“Hey mom, who is that?”

Wyatt rolled his eyes, assuming it was another acquaintance. It was an old photograph, clearly taken twenty years ago, since he was just a baby on it. A young man was holding him against him, looking uneasy, as if baby Wyatt had been a ticking bomb. Piper took the picture, frowned a little.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted and turned it around. “Wait, there’s something written on the back.” she snorted. “Your father’s writing. Still atrocious at the-“

She never finished her sentence. Instead, she stumbled back, blindly looking for something to sit on. Wyatt jumped on his feet before she actually fell on the floor.

“Mom?” he said worriedly. She had paled, her eyes were blinking very fast, just like every time she head upsetting news and tried to contain her emotions. “Mom, what’s going on?”

“Oh my god,” she whispered, and her voice shook, and he had never seen her look so freaked out. “Oh my god,” she repeated before shouting: “Paige! PAIGE!”

Their aunt orbed in immediately.

“No need to shout Piper,” she started, sounding irritated. “I hear you-“ she paused, catching the state of her sister. “Piper?”

Piper was on her feet, shoving the picture in her face. Paige looked at it then at her sister, a little confused.

“Who is this?”

“Chris. This is Chris.” Wyatt and Melinda exchanged a glance. They didn’t know a Chris, did they? “Tell me you remember him.”

At first, Paige looked even more confused. Then, she glanced at the picture again and something seemed to click. It was her turn to recognize the man, and be exceedingly upset about it.

“It must be a spell,” she said. “Someone erased our memory. Erased all our memories.” Aunt Paige stared at their mother, then at them. “We need to return them. We need to-“

“We need to find him,” Piper said determinedly.

“Wait,” Wyatt snapped, jumping on his feet. Melinda quickly followed. “What’s going on? Who is this Chris?”

His mother and aunt looked at him.

“He’s your brother.”

Magic had definitively been involved, because the moment Aunt Paige cast a counter-spell, their missing memory returned and he finally remembered.

Christopher Perry Halliwell. His missing little brother, taken away right in front of their noses one bright afternoon.

And in spite of the frenetic research since then…there was no trace left of him. No hint about the red-eyed demon either. The Charmed Ones had raided the Underworld, Wyatt had gone down there himself to make a statement, to no avail.  Not even their allies, not even Elders or seers could tell what had become of him. It was as if Chris had vanished from the earth.

Ten years without actions was a very long time, and three years later…three years later, they still hadn’t found anything. They were close to giving up. Phoebe had hinted it a couple times. Paige tried to believe but sounded less and less convincing. His parents were the most determined but they too were coming to their wits’ end. They couldn’t stop though, and Wyatt understood their motivation. It wasn’t about finding him anymore. It was about finding out what had become of him. If he was still alive. If he was dead.

Not knowing was the worse.

Wyatt left his bed, headed downstairs. The photo had been pinned on the wall, amongst other clichés. The man of the marketplace was a perfect living replica of the one in the picture, up to the same frown of uneasiness. Back then, for a terrifying second, Wyatt had believed…

“I don’t know you. I don’t even know any ‘Chris’ in my entourage.”

The memory spell had been broken. If his brother was under it, it should have been lifted. But what if it hadn’t? What if ‘Drew Fuller’ was convinced he was somebody else too? Perhaps that was why the crystal didn’t work. They had been restlessly searching for a man who didn’t even know his own name.

Mind made up, he took the picture, shoved it in his pocket. Then, he climbed back to the attic. He couldn’t wait anymore. He had to find out the truth. And if it was the wrong trail…then he’d be the only one bearing with the disappointment.

The crystal found him in seconds, somewhere along a street not too far from here. It was late, so Wyatt assumed he must either be going out with friends or taking a walk. He orbed himself out there, found himself in an empty alley. Good, he thought, and glanced around. A familiar silhouette was walking down the street, talking to himself –or rather having a conversation on the phone.

“Yeah, Remi was sick, Harley asked me to replace him.” Pause, short laugh. “Shut up, I’m exhausted.” Another pause, teasing tone. “I still might have enough energy for that.” Another laugh. “Babe, just looking at you makes me-“ he laughed again. “Fine, fine. I’ll be home soon, don’t wait up. If you’re sleeping when I get back, I’ll just let you sleep, I promise. There’s always tomorrow.”

Wyatt stepped out of his place, in full view and spotted the moment Drew Fuller noticed him. The other man slowed slightly in his steps, a small hint of recognition on his face. That was a good start. On the downside, he didn’t look very happy about it.

“Good bye Bianca,” he said before hanging up. “Mr. Halliwell, we meet again.”

Yep, not happy about it at all.

“Mr. Fuller,” he replied, feeling a little bit nervous. “I was wondering if we could talk.”

The man didn’t show any eagerness to comply. He did look a bit tired, Wyatt admitted. Perhaps the last thing he wanted was to be approached by a man claiming to be his long lost relative.

“Look, I told you before, I’m not your brother,” he found himself saying. “I-“

Wyatt took out the picture from his pocket and showed it to him. Drew’s expression shifted into a clear what the fuck?

“This is my brother,” Wyatt announced. “Or what we assume he would look at age twenty-two.”

The man took the picture, watching it carefully.

“No wonder why your sister jumped at me,” he said flatly. “And who is that?”

“A close cousin,” he lied. “Chris looked a lot like him when he was young.”

No obvious reaction. The man stared at him, unimpressed.

“Didn’t it occur to you that I might already have birth parents?”

Wyatt opened his mouth and-

Oh. Oh.

Oh shit.

He hadn’t.

He felt his skin reddening in embarrassment, his stomach twist uncomfortably. How could he have omitted something so obvious?

Should have checked with Uncle Henry, he belatedly thought.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted. “I didn’t –I -”

Drew snorted and shook his head.

“You’re lucky, I’m an orphan. Or rather, I was found on the streets with no memories,” he said with a hint of sarcasm. He handed the photograph back. Wyatt took it, feeling abashed and frankly a bit ashamed. This kind of thoughtless action often got him into trouble. Good thing Melinda had a gift for negotiating peace. It was a shame she wasn’t there to stop him from putting his foot in his mouth…although given her last reaction, perhaps it was batter that she wasn’t.

“I’m sorry,” he still felt compelled to say. Drew shrugged.

“Whatever. You said your brother went missing a while back. How long exactly was that?”

Wyatt breathed in deeply. At least, he didn’t sound outright hostile anymore.

“Over a decade,” he admitted. “He was ten years old when he was…kidnapped. We tried to find him but we never did. It’s been thirteen years now.”

“And you never stopped looking?” he asked skeptically.

Wyatt decided not to speak of the ten-year lapse.

“We just want to know what happened to him,” he said. “So yes, we won’t stop.”

For some reason, Drew didn’t look entirely convinced.

“Mind telling me what happened? I mean, the day your brother disappeared.”

Wyatt looked down. He didn’t want to, but the other man had been honest enough and truly, he wanted to make sure.

“We were walking home from school him and me. A d-“ he swiftly changed: “A man took him and ran away. Couldn’t do a single thing.” Chris’s wide, scared eyes, right before he faded into nothingness came back to haunt him. He swallowed and went on: “We thought….He was a smart kid. We hoped he could have escaped at some point. Orb away. But when-“

“Wait,” Drew interrupted. “Orb?”

Wyatt realized he had just slipped, but figured that he might as well…

“Yes, orb.”

It seemed to be the wrong thing to say. Drew’s face closed up and his lips were pressed into a thin line. Wyatt felt his heartbeat accelerate because that expression definitively meant something.

“So you’re a witch?” he asked very quietly. Wyatt nodded, anticipation tightening his guts. “Then I can’t be your brother.”

“What?” he blurted, genuinely taken aback. “Why?”

Drew gave him a half smile.

“I’m just a mortal.”

Wyatt felt like he had been slapped through and through. That Excalibur had just stabbed him. That a freaking demon had thrown a fireball to his face.

“What?”

“I know about the…” Drew waved a hand around. “The magic community and all that stuff. But I’m not a witch.”

“How do you know about it?” he asked, hoping the answer might be vague enough for him to hope, to believe it was-

The man’s smile grew sorrier.

“Before I answer, which side are you on?”

“What? The…I’m sorry what?”

Drew shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

“You. Your family. Are you considered good? Evil? Morally ambiguous?”

Wyatt blinked a few times more before deciding he could answer:

“Good. Halliwells stand on the good side.” Drew nodded. He didn’t look particularly happy with the answer either. “Why? And seriously if you’re a mortal, how do you know about magic?”

Drew seemed to hesitate a second before replying:

“A witch saved me from a demon a few years ago,” he scratched his neck awkwardly. “I had a lot of questions after that. She was kind enough to answer them.”

Wyatt had a feeling there was more to the story, but he wouldn’t be willing to say more. Perhaps that ‘witch’ wasn’t quite on the good side.

“That makes sense,” Wyatt reluctantly admitted.

“Yeah, sorry,” Drew whispered back, lowering his eyes.

They remained silent for a while. Wyatt felt like his universe was crumbling once again. Another wrong trail. Another disappointment. He had been so sure about it this time…so certain…and then a detail came back to him.

“You said you were attacked by a demon?” he asked. “Just a few years ago?”

Drew blinked and nodded.

“Yeah, some big ass ugly thing with creepy red eyes. I thought he was high when I first saw him. His fireball burned my grocery bag just like that,” he snapped his fingers. “I ran away holding the handle.”

But Wyatt wasn’t listening anymore.

Red-eyed demon. A lot of demons had red eyes, but…he cleared his throat and asked:

“You…you wouldn’t happen to know the name of the demon?”

Drew shot him a stare of disbelief.

“You think I stopped to ask?” then, before Wyatt could apologize again, he added, a little amused: “The witch told me later it was Tuaris.”

Tuaris. The name didn’t ring a bell, but he should probably keep it in mind. First thing to do going home…Book of Shadows.

“Thank you. I’ll just…I’ll check it. I need to check it.” He took a deep breath and decided to be honest: “I didn’t tell you everything. Chris was actually taken by a demon, and someone cast a spell on my family shortly after that.” Drew looked startled. “We were made to forget about him. For ten years, we didn’t…look.” He admitted bitterly. “We only remembered due a heck of a coincidence. If it’s a spell, maybe you don’t remember either.”

Drew’s frown grew deeper.

“I’m not a witch,” he repeated. “I was told powers show up during childhood and adolescence. Trust me, I had none of these.”

“But what if you were made to forget and had your powers bounded?” Wyatt went on, warming up to his theory. “It would make sense. We’ve been looking for a witch, not a powerless mortal.” Drew made a slight movement backwards, as if he was growing more and more cautious. “Sorry, sorry. Can I –I’ll check in the Book. Can I come and tell you later what I found?”

The man didn’t look overly enthusiastic about that. After a few seconds, he sighed, resigned, and said:

“I’ll give you my number. Just text me or something, alright?”

Wyatt decided it was better than nothing. He wrote down the number and orbed away, straight to the attic. He had some research to do.

Bianca wasn’t sleeping when Chris returned. She was in bed, spooned him when he joined her. She didn’t try to touch him more, so he assumed she was halfway out of it.

“Something on your mind again?” he heard her mumble.

Damnit, how does she do it?

Deciding pondering over something he wasn’t certain of wouldn’t help, he took a deep breath and decided to just ask away:

“Hey Bianca?” she hummed. “Would you still love me if I were a witch?”

There was a pause during which he believed she might have fallen asleep. Then, she repeated sleepily:

“A witch?”

He turned around to face her. They rarely closed their blinds, so her face was illuminated by moonlight. He could see her blinking slowly, imagined those dark eyes watching him intensely.

“I met with that guy from the marketplace again. Turns out he’s a witch too.” He cleared his throat. “His brother was kidnapped by demons and he thinks they might have wiped my memories and bound my powers. Is it possible?”

She remained silent for a moment, eyelids slowly moving. He knew she was thinking very intensely.

“It could happen, although demons rarely keep their prey alive,” she admitted. “What’s his name? The witch, I mean.”

“Wyatt Halliwell.”

She turned around, turned on the light and faced him back. Drew had to shield his eyes from the sudden intensity.

“Bianca?”

“Halliwell?” she repeated, astonished. “Wyatt Halliwell thinks you’re his brother?”

“What, Bianca?” he reached out to touch her. She flinched away. “Bianca, what’s going on?”

She left the bed this time, and he started to grow worried. When she walked out of the room, he immediately followed. He found her sitting on the couch, hands intertwined. She looked lost and pensive. When he joined her, she didn’t try to move away again. He didn’t dare try to touch her though.

“Bianca, babe, will you tell me what’s going on?” he remembered Wyatt’s words and asked: “What’s about these Halliwells? Aren’t they supposed to be good?”

She barked a sharp laugh.

“Oh yes. Yes, there are good. They are the paragon of goodness in the magic community. The Charmed Ones.”

Drew remembered that name. Bianca had mentioned them before, as being a trio of the powerful witches. Sisters, with each their lives and children of their own.

“Wyatt Halliwell is the eldest child of the eldest sister. He’s known as the Twice-Blessed. The most powerful witch walking on this earth,” she added sarcastically. “The best representative of good too.”

“You don’t like them,” he noted. She snorted again.

“I don’t hate them,” she nuanced. “But they are known for being a little…narrow-minded. They can’t…they don’t see the variants of gray out there. Their world, where magic is concerned, is divided in black and white.” She looked at him. “My powers have a demonic nature. In their book, I would be one of the warlocks to be vanquished, not an ally.”

Her eyes fell back on the carpet and he thought he understood. There wasn’t a clear hierarchy amongst witches, perhaps because it didn’t properly exist, but there were some lines that just weren’t crossed. Good and evil stayed separated. Morally ambiguous was considered evil. And if he was indeed a descendent of a paragon of goodness…

“Bianca,” he called her name. “Bianca, look at me.” She reluctantly did. “And it’s just a theory. I might not even be that man. For all we know, Wyatt Halliwell is just projecting his hopes on me.”

She snorted and looked away.

“The Halliwell are an impulsive bunch, but even they wouldn’t forward these kind of theories out of the blue. Wyatt Halliwell wouldn’t bother if he weren’t certain of your identity.”

He stared at her, dumbfounded by her behavior. And then he realized-

“You’re afraid of them.”

Bianca stared at her hands, biting her lower lip. He had never seen her in such a state.

“They came after mother once,” she admitted. “I was four or five. I still remember her telling me to go to my room and play with my toys. It was our code for ‘stay hidden until I come to get you’. She reformed in my bedroom, just had enough time to grab me before shimmering away. She reformed,” Bianca repeated slowly, tensely. “Meaning they tried to kill her. She wasn’t even active at the time, hadn’t been for years; I was too young to be left alone. Mother never learned why they came.” She snorted. “I’m not…afraid of them. But the farther I stand from them, the better I’ll be.”

Drew touched her forearm.

“Bianca…”

She pulled away.

“Don’t worry, Drew. They won’t begrudge you for sleeping with a Phoenix witch, especially if you didn’t know.”

That was it. He refused to hear one more word, so he cupped her cheek and kissed her. Once, twice, three times until she started pushing him away. He caught her wrists and pushed her down on the couch, catching her wrists to pin her underneath him.

“Drew,” she said as a warning. She could kick his ass very easily if she wanted to stop him, both knew it.

He silenced her with another kiss, felt her respond instinctively. When he felt she had finally relaxed enough, he parted for air and declared firmly:

“I am yours, Bianca, and you are mine. Forgotten memories won’t change that.” He released her wrists, held himself up high to look down on her. “Even if I turn out to be this Chris Halliwell, you are my girlfriend. And if they can’t accept that…” he shrugged. “They lived without me for thirteen years. They can live without me a little longer.”

He wouldn’t lie, he longed to belong. He wanted to know about his past. But now that it was at arm’s length, now that he was brushing it –and he might lose Bianca in the process –his priorities aligned again. Bianca was his future. If the past had to stay in the past…be it.

“Drew-“

“I’m serious Bianca. I love you. I’m not letting you go. So promise me. Promise me you won’t run away from me.”

For a moment, she remained silent. Then, she sighed heavily, midway between exasperation and fondness.

“I promise,” she said, and he couldn’t bite back the wave of relief crashing upon his shoulders. If Bianca said something, she would hold onto her word. “And Drew?” He looked back into her eyes. She wasn’t quite smiling, but she looked…softer. “Whoever you are, I love you too.”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Piper’s voice made Wyatt looked up from the Book of Shadows. He had been hyped ever since he came back from meeting Drew. And even more since-

“I found him,” he announced. The page was opened on Tuaris’s description. A demon that hunted witch children and devoured their soul. If Chris had kept escaping him all this time, Tuaris wouldn’t have dropped his prey until he was done.

Piper came to stand beside him, glanced at the demon, and back at her son.

“You found who, exactly?”

“Chris. I found Chris.” Her whole body tensed, her eyes grew wide. “It matches what he said. The demon, the ages, it all matches. It must be him!”

Piper put a hand over his arm.

“Slow down Wyatt. You found Chris?”

“His name is Drew Fuller. Or he believes his name is Drew Fuller. He thinks he’s a mortal too. But he knows about magic, he knew Tuaris –apparently he was vanquished, which is why we couldn’t find him. He’s the right age.” He pulled out the picture, put it flat on the Book. “It’s his fucking face, mom, to the T. Even he recognized it himself when he saw the photo!”

“Wyatt…”

“He’s doesn’t remember his family,” he went on, almost bouncing on his feet. “But it’s him, mom. I know it’s him. Heck, Melinda recognized him in one glance-“

“Wait, Melinda’s on it too?”

“She spotted him at the marketplace, I told her not to say anything just in case. But mom, it’s him,” he repeated. “We found him.”

Piper blinked rapidly again. He waited. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly.

“What does he think of all this?”

Wyatt remembered his expression and bit back a snort.

“Skeptical. Unsure. But he still left me his number. He wants to know.”

Piper nodded once. Wyatt wasn’t surprised that she was reining in her emotions so tightly. She had been disappointed by false leads before, but she hadn’t met him yet. Once she met him, surely…

“Okay,” she said shortly. “Okay. This is what will happen.” Wyatt waited. “You are going to give him a call. He will come at the manor. I will call my sisters and if, only if we believe there’s a chance…” her voice trailed off, shaken by emotion. “We will write a spell.”

“You’ll see mom,” Wyatt said, bouncing already on his feet. “You’ll see.”

Their journey was coming to an end, he knew it. Soon, Chris would be coming home.

The manor was…just that. A manor, standing amongst all the others. It didn’t ring any bells, it didn’t bring up any memory. Drew took a deep breath and stepped forward. Knocked at the door, and waited awkwardly. The door opened, revealing a woman in her mid to late forties. Long brown hair, dark eyes –Wyatt’s eyes, he thought –and a roundish, kind face. The woman paled at once, chocked and covered her mouth with both hands.

“Chris?”

“Uh…” he started, already feeling like this was going to be a long morning.

“Oh my god,” the woman went on, and there were definite tears in her eyes. “Chris, it’s –it’s you!”

He didn’t have time to react, she drew him into a hug, held him tight, tighter than anyone had held him before. She was slightly smaller than Bianca, making the position a little awkward.

“It has to be you,” she went on. “You’re…you’re just the same.”

That last part made no sense, but he still gently patted her shoulder. It was hard to reciprocate so much emotion, when he felt no connection to her at all. She released him at once, her eyes still wide in marvel.

“You’re so…” she whispered, touched his cheek. He almost avoided her hand, forced himself to stand still. She seemed to notice and dropped her arm immediately. “Sorry. Wyatt told us about everything, but now that I see you…” she smiled, a beam of relief, really. “You’re him. You are definitively him. Come in.”

He followed. Glanced around. The manor felt…homey, when he stepped in. Well-kept. Well-loved. There were pictures on the old furniture. He stepped closer to take a look. People he didn’t recognize were gathered together, in pairs, alone, in groups. A laughing boy of ten with dark hair and green eyes caught his attention. He recognized his own face there and thought –yes, this might be it after all. There were at least five pictures of the boy, mingled with all the other kids. Cousins perhaps?

A loud exclamation distracted him and two other women –older women he had never seen before –were suddenly approaching him.

“Chris!”

Another round of emotions from people he didn’t know. He spotted Wyatt in the corner standing next to the woman who had let him in, at loss at what to do.

“Easy,” one of the two women suddenly said. “I’m sorry sweetie, this must be so confusing. I’m Phoebe. Your aunt.”

At least one name. He glanced at the two others.

“And that would make me your other aunt, Paige,” the second woman said cheerfully.

He briefly wondered if her cheeks weren’t hurting from being stretched so widely. Then he considered the last woman. Bianca had spoken of three witches. If he was the son of one of them, it would be the one who opened the door. The long-haired witch. That one was supposedly his mother. His mother. Who still hadn’t introduced herself.

“I’m Drew,” he blurted, not knowing what else to say. “I-“

“We know,” Phoebe said kindly. “We’re getting a bit ahead of ourselves, but trust me, you are definitively our nephew. We met before. Sort of. A long time-traveling story.”

Now he was lost. He cleared his throat, decided there was no need to linger, and asked straight ahead:

“And what do you intend to do to…jingle my memory? Make sure I’m him?”

They looked confident. Too confident. And everything was going so fast, no questions asked…but then perhaps everyone wanted to go straight to the point.

“A spell,” Paige answered. “We started working on it the moment Wyatt called. I didn’t sleep all night. Did you Piper?”

Piper. Piper Halliwell. Now he knew her name.

“How could I?” she whispered. Those eyes, still troubled, were devouring him. As if he would vanish if she blinked once. Given that he apparently did, when he was ten, it wasn’t unreasonable.

“We didn’t bring the rest of the family,” Wyatt finally spoke. “Thought it would be a bit too overwhelming for the first time.”

You bet, he wanted to say. He didn’t know what he was expecting to feel. Out of place was not it. He suddenly wished Bianca was here too. This wasn’t his world. He didn’t have the codes to deal with it. Perhaps if he got his memory back…if he was that lost son…IF.

“Well, let’s get this over with,” he said, perhaps a little too dryly. Thankfully they didn’t seem to take offence.

The three women gathered together, a paper in hand. Wyatt stood by the side, fidgeting eagerly. Drew felt tiny and cornered. Had he not witnessed Bianca do her own rituals, he might have scoffed at all the solemnity. However, if her words were true, three powerful witches were working on restoring a part of his past he had forgotten, and would change his life forever. So he braced himself and waited. And then, they spoke at once:

Heed our prayer, heed our mind,
Spirit of the ancient times
Bring back forth the memories and powers
Taken from our son and nephew, in this hour

Nothing happened. The Charmed Ones stared at him expectantly, hoping, waiting for a reaction. Drew felt like an idiot, standing there, wondering what was supposed to happen.

Then it came. The sudden headache. The ringing in his ears. The blurry vision. The arching in his body.

It all hit him at once.

His legs failed him and he fell flat on the floor.

He vaguely heard someone call ‘Chris’, or many voices at once. The pain kept growing. The ringing increased, threatening to split his head in two. He curled into a ball. He might have screamed at some point. Thoughts mingled in his head and he wished he was anywhere but her. Why did he even come? To suffer? Was it going to kill him? Was he going to die? Was it all worth it? He thought of Bianca and held onto that thought. He had made her promise to wait for him. He couldn’t let her down. He couldn’t. He needed to go back to her… he wanted to see her right now-

“Bianca,” he whispered and he felt himself…

Orbing. That was the word.

He felt himself orbing.

And he was no longer lying on the carpet in an unfamiliar house hallway.

But in Bianca’s apartment.

Right in front of Bianca.

Who dropped everything she was holding and rushed to him.

“Drew!” she shouted, and he was grateful, grateful to hear her voice, to feel her hand on his shoulder, to see her face, no matter how panicked she looked.

So, so grateful to see her one last time-

He kept his eyes on her until everything faded to black.

When his mother and aunts recited the spell, Wyatt was already anticipating the next step. Their reaction confirmed what he had been suspecting, what he had been hoping for. Drew was his brother, the little brother he couldn’t save over ten years ago. The spell would give him back his memories and it would be over. Chris would return to them, he’d be able to hug him and never let go, to promise him he was safe, that he was home, that he was wanted here and-

Chris crumbled to the ground like a puppet without strings and started screaming. Wyatt watched with horror as his body dissolved into orbs, right in front of his eyes. He wasn’t fast enough to hold him back.

“What the hell just happened?” he barked at his mother and aunts. They looked just as stunned as him.

“I don’t know,” his mother said. She didn’t look good. “He just-“ she breathed in sharply. “Get the crystal and the map. And one of his childhood shirts. Since we know it’s him, we should be able to find him now.”

Wyatt orbed everything down, spread the map on the table, grabbed the shirt and the crystal. It was Chris. Drew was definitively their Chris. He hadn’t searched for twelve years only to lose him again! He wouldn’t allow it!

The crystal fell on a spot downtown San Francisco, an area close to the marketplace. His heart skipped a beat. His brother wasn’t lost yet. He could be found.

“Let’s go,” Paige said, grabbing Phoebe’s hand. Wyatt took his mother and they all orbed over to the spot.

They arrived in a small apartment, very cozy and casual. His brother was lying on his side, on the floor. An unknown woman was kneeling in front of him. She turned around when she heard them arrive and snapped:

“What have you done to him?”

“You’re his girlfriend?” Wyatt assumed. Chris hadn’t mentioned one but he vaguely remembered him talking to the phone to someone the other night. She ignored his question and repeated:

“What have you done to him!”

“Bianca?”

The woman’s eyes zipped straight to Phoebe.

“You are Bianca, right?” his aunt asked. “The Phoenix witch.”

Phoenix? A Phoenix witch? His brother’s girlfriend was a Phoenix witch?

The woman still looked furious, but also slightly afraid.

“How do you know my name?”

“It’s a long story,” Piper interrupted. She hadn’t looked away from Chris. “We’re giving him back his memories and his powers.”

Bianca paled, horrified.

“All at once? Are you trying to kill him?”

Instead of waiting for an answer, she rolled Chris on his back, pressed a hand over his collarbone. And without warning-

“What the hell are you doing!”

Wyatt could only stare in shock as her hand disappeared into his brother’s chest.

“I’m saving Drew’s life,” she snapped back. “So shut the fuck up.”

Her eyelids fluttered oddly and her mouth opened wide as she took a deep breath. She cursed, loudly, closed her eyes to focus. Wyatt then turned towards his mother and aunts, stunned that they wouldn’t move.

“Mom?” he asked. Piper had her lips pressed together tightly. “You know what’s going on?”

“She’s stripping his powers,” she replied. Wyatt stared twice –and she wasn’t more worried than that?

“But-“

“It’s okay Wyatt,” Piper added. “She won’t hurt him. He can still recover them later.”

How could you be so sure? He wanted to ask, but as he stared back at the scene, Bianca was already done. Breathing slightly heavier, she caressed his chest tenderly, whispering something too low for him to hear. In the meantime, colors were already returning to Chris’s face.

“He’s safe,” Bianca announced. “No thanks to you.” She stood up, glared at them. Small in height, but her presence was no joke, especially since she looked so pissed. “So, the Charmed Ones. So powerful and yet so ignorant.” Wyatt narrowed his eyes, ready to protest. She didn’t give them time. “You tried to give back too much too quickly. Drew was basically powerless for over ten years. His body wasn’t ready to stand the strain. If I hadn’t stripped him of his powers, his heart wouldn’t have withstood it.”

Chris began twitching, showing signs of waking up. Wyatt made to move. Bianca glared at him, stepping protectively in front of his brother.

“I think it’s best you leave,” she said. “He’ll need quiet and rest and he’s expected at work tonight. He’s a sous-chef,” she added, as if it explained everything. Wyatt caught Piper nodded slowly. Perhaps to her it did. The aunts didn’t like it.

“He can rest at home, where he belongs,” Phoebe said. Wyatt nodded in agreement. There was still an empty bed his room, waiting to be occupied. Bianca did not back off.

“My apartment is warded against demons and warlocks,” she retorted. “He will be safer here than at your manor.”

His brother made a soft sound. Bianca knelt by his side quickly, just as Wyatt and Piper came closer. Chris rolled his head on the side, his mouth opened and breathed –‘Bianca’. Wyatt felt his heart break a little. He didn’t know why he expected him to call for him, or their mother. Not the woman standing next to his side.

“I’m here baby. I’m here. You’re gonna be alright. Trust me, you’re safe.”

Still not opening his eyes, he nodded and stopped moving. His breathing pattern became smoother and just like that, Wyatt knew he had fallen asleep. He suddenly suspected that Bianca was the one who had introduced the magic world to ‘Drew’. If she was his girlfriend, it made sense he trusted her more.

“Leave,” she whispered. “He knows where you live. He’ll come to you when he’s ready.”

Wyatt watched his brother sleeping peacefully, caught the loving stare of the woman, and thought she might be right. One glance at his mother confirmed she thought the same.

“I will leave my number,” she said. “He can call anytime. Day or night. I’ll be waiting.”

“But-“ Paige began. Piper silenced her with one look.

“I waited over ten years for him to return,” she said quietly. “Now that I know he’s alive, I can wait a little more. Where can I find some paper?”

In the end, everyone left their number. Wyatt did too. Bianca sat by Chris’s side the whole time, watching them move around cautiously. Before orbing out, he said:

“You make sure he’s alright. If anything happens to him, I’m holding you accountable.”

Bianca barely blinked in response.

“If anything happens to him, it means I’ll be dead. Get out of my house. Your brother needs rest.”

He left, a little annoyed by her behavior, but comforted by the idea that the witch would definitively care for him. All they had to do now was wait.

Chris opened his eyes very slowly. His head was still killing him, but he didn’t feel like he was dying anymore. The room was dark –blinds were closed, so was the door, but he recognized the texture of the bed and its smell. He was home. His and Bianca’s. Theirs.

The door creaked open and a familiar face peeked in. He felt such a wave of love inside his body he beamed uncontrollably.

“Hey beautiful.”

Bianca stepped in, wearing the most casual clothes he had ever seen her wear.

“You’re awake,” she said. He kept grinning.

“And you’re still there,” he replied, his heartbeat growing faster.

“I promised I wouldn’t run,” she pointed out with a light smile. “So, Chris Halliwell?”

He confirmed it with a nod. Her smile faded slightly. He squeezed her hand.

“And still a bit of Drew Fuller inside.”

“Prove it.”

His grin turned into a proud little smirk:

“The first thing I ever told you was to run, because some big dude with red eyes was shooting fireballs and coming at me.” That drew a little twinkle in her eyes. “You thought I was stoned until Tuaris actually showed up, and you vanquished him with one well-placed energy ball.” She was smiling now. “Then you turned around, looked down on me –because I was flat on my ass, and said: ‘For the record, that was a demon. I am a witch’.”

She chuckled, a little embarrassed.

“Fine I believe you.”

He wasn’t quite done. He leaned forward, whispered mischievously:

“I told you ‘I think I’m in love’, and I fainted right there.” He kissed her then, gently but firmly, capturing her laugh with his lips. The same thought came running, again and again. She was alive. When they parted, he added: “I’m still me and I’m not leaving you Bianca. Not unless you want me to.”

He heard her sigh, but in the best way possible, because he could hear a smile in there.

“You are stubborn,” she admitted. She pulled back, a little more serious. “Your family knew me. Do you know why?”

“I may have an idea,” he admitted. He hadn’t just regained the ten first years of his memories. More like thirty years of a jumbled mess. Perhaps that was why the absorption had been so hard. “It’s a long story.”

He would have to tell her. He would have to tell her everything. He wanted to tell her everything. He had nothing to hide. Maybe not this instant though. It would be too much at once. His Bianca could endure a lot, but stories of time-traveling, evil brothers and painful deaths could wait. She seemed to sense it, once again.

“Someday?”

He kissed her cheek, her nose, her mouth, everything he could reach. She was full and alive and they were safe and he loved her so much.

“I’ll tell you everything,” he promised, and she finally, finally joined him in bed. He spooned her, wrapped his arms around her waist, discreetly placed his hand over the spot she had been pierced through in a previous life. No hole, no blood, nothing. He shivered a bit and buried his face in her neck. His mouth was filled with her hair but he didn’t care. She was alive. So was he. They were together. The rest could wait.

Wyatt, or anyone, for the matter, didn’t hear from Chris for three days. And then, one Sunday, when Leo was out at Magic School dealing with some urgent matter, the sisters had come together to eat lunch and Melinda was running late to join, Chris promptly orbed in.

His mother and the aunts were in the living room, all rushed and came to hug, greet, welcome him back. They wanted to know everything, wanted to fill him up on what he’d missed, and how did he get his powers back? Why didn’t he come to them? Wyatt stayed nearby to listen, marveled at how patient and firm his brother actually acted with them, like he was used to deal with their mannerisms, even though he hadn’t seen them in over a decade.

“It’s as if Chris Perry showed up again after all these years,” he heard Aunt Paige whisper to his mother while Phoebe was showing off the pictures of her daughters. “We never got to see him grow.”

“He’s happy now,” his mother replied then, sad but just as quietly. “That’s the most important.”

They asked about his current life, about his situation. He loved his job, loved his girlfriend, and surprised no-one when he mentioned an upcoming proposal.

“Likely long-time coming,” Piper even said. Wyatt was surprised at how accepting they were regarding that matter. Then he later found out Chris and Bianca were already engaged in an alternative timeline so it actually kinda made sense.

“We’re still missing the part where everyone forgot about you,” Paige said eventually. “I mean, I don't remember reading anything about Tuaris working with a partner or having the power to erase witches' memories."

“I can answer that actually.” All eyes were on him. Wyatt too felt curious. Unlike ‘Drew’, Chris didn’t seem to care about the attention and went on: “Tuaris liked hunting children by actually running after them. I thought of a spell to hide myself from him. Since he hinted he would sense my magic, I worded it…” he narrowed his eyes, trying to remember. “I’m not sure about the phrasing, but basically I wanted to shield my power from the ‘outside’ and make the demon ‘forget’ about me.” He shrugged. “I involuntarily erased myself from everyone’s memory and ‘hid’ my powers from the whole magical community.” Then he glanced up. “Sorry.”

The three sisters exchanged a glance and Wyatt couldn’t help but stare. All these years wasted, because of a misspoken spell?

“That was one heck of a spell for a ten year old,” Wyatt said eventually. Chris smirked a little.

“Hey, you might be the Twice-Blessed, but I am still a Warren witch,” he paused. “And part-Elder too.”

He didn’t look particularly affected by this revelation, which annoyed Wyatt a little. They had suffered from his absence, and he was treating it like…what, an annoyance? Had what they lived through meant nothing?

The doors suddenly opened wide and Melinda hurried inside.

“Sorry I’m late!” she shouted. “Traffic was terrible on the way, and-“

She froze on the spot, zeroed on Chris. His brother stood from the table, took a few steps closer.

“Hello Melinda.”

His sister didn’t move, too shocked perhaps. She knew, of course, that Chris had returned but hand't expected him to be standing there. When the silence stretched, Wyatt stood to intervene, but Chris beat him to the bush:

“There is no such thing as a purple dinosaur.”

Everyone exchanged glances. Chris remained perfectly serious. Melinda’s expression twitched a little.

“How would you know? You weren’t there. And it could be pretty,” she replied, a little shakily.

Chris snorted.

“For the record, I have been there with Leo. Nothing pretty about a T-Rex. And I didn’t see any purple ones. Why would you care though, you don’t give a fuck about dinosaurs.”

Melinda chocked and smiled through her tears.

“You’re right. I don’t give a fuck.”

Chris smirked.

“Took you twelve years to admit it,” he replied and Wyatt remembered.

It was a stupid fight about dinosaurs and their coloring, left unresolved. He and Chris had picked the long way back home so he could vent a little about their stubborn little sister. Tuaris had kidnapped him then. And Melinda…Melinda had blamed herself for it.

Chris knew it. Wyatt realized. How, he had no idea. Perhaps her breakdown at the marketplace had let her feelings slip. But in one minute with one quick conversation, he just brought closure and- Chris wasn’t brushing all of these years aside. He was just choosing to move on.

Perhaps I should do the same, Wyatt thought as his sister laughed through falling tears.

“You are such an asshole,” she said and walked into his opened arms. “Welcome home Chris. Thank you for not being dead.”

“Glad I’m still alive,” he replied.

He met Wyatt’s eye, gave him a small smile, and Wyatt decided that things would be alright.