Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For Chris: Aftermath

1

The throne room was dark due to the rain outside. On his left, guards stood straight, waiting for a single order from their master. Ahead, a troupe led by the greatest coward of all times stepped in. Wyatt grunted as Turner stepped closer, looking pale and shaking. Behind him, three warlocks were carrying a long, human-shaped bag.

“Y-your p-p-p-patience have p-p-paid off, my Lord,” Turner spoke, his slight splutter oddly louder today.

“My patience, you say?” Wyatt repeated, already bored. He was more intrigued by the body they were bringing back. “Who is in there?”

Turner said no word, just motioned with his hand. Another two warlocks stepped in, bringing a prisoner chained by the neck and wrists. Wyatt stood straight, eyes wide in surprise, staring at the disheveled, dirty and bloody shape of Bianca, his brother’s lover.

Last he had seen her, she had nearly thrown a dagger in his eye. Only his magic and a miraculous ducking reflex had saved it. She had been fighting to survive, eyes bright and enraged, ready to slice her way out of his army. Today, the fierce warrior was gone, held in chains, head low in submission. She looked…broken. An uncomfortable feeling settled in his stomach as he watched the bag being thrown to the ground without care.

It slowly unfolded under his eyes, revealing its content. A dark head hit the ground with a dull sound. His hands were half-contorted, sign he had been dead for a while already. His clothes –dark sweater, sweatpants –were even darker due to the coagulated blood. His skin was pale, mouth half-opened.

“Got him cornered real good!” One of the warlocks claimed. “Kept escaping, little brat. And that bitch didn’t help,” he added, pulling the chains around Bianca’s neck. The Phoenix stumbled forward, on her knees, head still low. Her soft, erratic breath was the only thing Wyatt could hear in the otherwise deafening silence.

He stood up, stepped closer to the body. A part of him wanted to run, wanted to kick them all out, destroy the corpse, believe it was nothing but a bad joke. But his informants had been very quiet about his brother lately, just as the hunters grew more and more excited.

He should have paid closer attention to his hunters.

The dead eyes of his dead brother wouldn’t have come as a shock then.

“What d-d-do you say, My lord?” Turner spoke almost forcefully.

Wyatt stared at the body lying on the floor. He took in the visible injuries, the frozen expression of pain, the blood slowly tainting the floor. He glanced at Bianca, who was now staring at him with a look of utter defeat and resignation. The will to live had left her entirely. Then he stopped over Turner, who kept his head down, body trembling in fear.

“We did good eh?” another warlock said, puffing in pride. The whole group was smirking proudly, waiting for an answer, a praise, the recognition of the king of the world.

Wyatt met their eye. Smiles faded, quickly replaced by confusion.

“My lord?”

He howled and threw his hands ahead. The power pulse hit the five warlocks and Turner in a wave that made their bodies burn. The warlocks and the messenger screamed in pain as flames consumed the flesh. Wyatt watched them, watched Bianca, as the light seemed to dance in her eyes. It was only an illusion though, as the fire died down, she remained as still as a broken doll.

And then it hit him.

His brother was dead.

Christopher Perry Halliwell, his eighteen month younger brother, was dead. Killing his killers wouldn’t bring him back.

He’s dead.

And Wyatt felt something break inside him.

After Chris's murder, returning to the past had been an obvious choice to make. Wyatt hadn't been sure at the time how far he should return.

He had thought, at first, that a few days might be enough, just in time to save his wayward brother. Then, another thought occurred to him. A few days wouldn't be enough to locate him, track him down, drag him back to his quarters to put him to safety. He needed weeks. Openly tracking him would only motivate him to go deeper underground -and encourage his enemies and allies in the worse way. A few months didn't seem enough still, because even if Chris was kept under his protection, he might find a way to escape again…and ruin Wyatt's efforts to protect him.

So he crafted the spell to let magic send him further back, back when Chris still trusted him, still followed him without thinking twice -or at least, thinking as much.

Apparently, that was before their mother's murder.

He convinced himself could deal with that.

It didn't last long.

"Wy, get up, you're going to be late!"

Chris whining in his ear so early in the morning about school was not the way he had imagined his time jump. Though he had the memories both sets of memories, it was tough to accept that he was just a fifteen-year-old teenager now. He still had to go to school -Magic school, and live under his parents' -or rather his mother's, because Leo only squatted -house.

He hated school.

"Yeah, no, I don't feel so well," he complained, burying himself further under the covers. Said covers flew off his body.

He also didn't remember Chris being such a little shit.

"Hey!" he protested, glaring up. Chris stared down at him from his standing position, but there was definitively amusement sparkling in his eyes.

"Up. Or mom's going to come and get you."

The words did...something to him. He wasn't ready to face his mother yet. His living mother. He had grieved her by wedging war against the clan of demons that had taken her life. Some would say he had never taken the time to grieve her at all, because he had conquered the Underworld after that. Then came revealing magic and-

"I'll be down in a minute," he snapped and heard Chris snicker instead of flinching away.

A welcomed change that reminded him why he was putting up with all this.

"Yeah sure," he replied in a sing-song kind of voice. "See you downstairs."

Wyatt grumbled and rolled to the side to stand up. Chris' room was just the same as he remembered. A bunch of books piled up in shelves, clothes spread over his desk, his schoolbag laying sadly at the bottom of the bed...

The floor was clean and tidy. He remembered Chris arguing against his mother about the organized mess, and since nothing touched the ground, it was reasonably clean. Needless to say, Piper hadn't been impressed.

He returned to his room and, in the slight light, observed his new/old environment. Everything was squeaky clean. Books were sorted by author's names in his shelves. A fresh pile of clothes was waiting to be sorted next to his closet, but folded so neatly it nearly made him nauseous.

He was such a control freak in his teenage years, under so much pressure, always had to be perfect, always had to be on top, always had to bow to expectations...

No wonder why breaking free of his morals had literally freed him. 

He wouldn't do that again. Wouldn't bow down to conventions anymore. He had been a 'good boy' for most of his teenage years.

Enough of that.

Wyatt picked up a clean shirt and jeans -no black in his wardrobe, more of a pity -and headed to the bathroom to take a shower. He caught the faint smell of pancakes in the corridor, felt a wave of nostalgia catch his throat and hurried on his way. As he washed himself, if some of the water running over his face tasted like salt, he ignored it.

Later, finally proper dressed, he reluctantly made his way downstairs. The voices of Chris and their mother came from the kitchen. A conversation about his day to come, apparently.

He stepped in the room, saw his brother -still an unexpected sight -and forced himself to turn towards his mother. Piper was turning his back at him, hovering over the pan, making pancakes while asking a question.

He couldn't hear her speak, blocked everything else, unable to tear his eyes away from her. In his mindset, she had been dead for nearly a decade. The last sight he had of her was her lying in her casket, eyes closed, the wound made by the demon behind her murder hidden under her clothes. 

She turned towards him, a little frown on her face, and her expression grew worried. He only caught the end of her words.

"-alright Wyatt?"

He glanced at his brother who didn't look as amused as earlier, probably sensing that something was wrong.

"'m fine," he managed to articulate. Piper wasn't convinced, put down the hot pan and stepped closer. It took everything he had to stop himself from flinching away when she pressed her hand to his forehead.

"You feel a bit warm. Do you have a fever?"

He saw Chris putting down his pancake from the corner of the eye, definitively about to say something about his ‘bad dream’. Wyatt promptly repeated:

"I'm fine. Just a little off this morning."

Their mother's frown deepened a little. Still she backed off and returned to her pans.

"Well, if you say so. Don't forget your lunchbox."

"Right," he merely said and sat at the table. He met Chris' eye and his brother mouthed 'you okay?'.  He nodded and helped himself with a pancake.

Tasting just the thing made something break inside him. He had accumulated so much anger, so much pain, so many grievances over the years -his family's less than stellar protection over them, his mother's death, the Elders' expectations along with his father's...

He was so done with Leo. And if the Elders complained...well, he had killed them once. He could do it again, more efficiently too.

"Maybe you should stay at home today?" Piper's voice suggested kindly and he realized he was...not so fine.

Chris did look worried now, worried for him. That was an expression he hadn't seen in a while.

"I'll stay home," he relented, dropped everything and returned to his room. 

He admitted his head was a mess. He wasn't focused, he needed time to readapt himself, to find a more stable ground. He let himself stumble upon his bed, buried his face in his pillow. The scents were both familiar and unfamiliar, reminding him of a lost time. A time he was back to. A time he returned to change.

The door creaked opened and closed behind softly. He recognized Chris' footsteps.

"Hey," he heard him say. Wyatt muffled a sound in the pillow. Chris came closer and stopped near the mattress. "Is this related to your dream last night?" 

Wyatt twisted his head to face his brother. He looked worried again. 

"I just need rest, Chris," he mumbled. "I'll be back on my feet in no time."

His expression turned pensive.

"If it's that bad, wouldn't you want to talk to mom about it? Or dad?" 

Wyatt grimaced upon hearing the last word. Chris hadn't called Leo 'dad' for years in the future, having given up ever earning that man's regard. He wasn't certain what had occurred between the two that had definitively caused the schism, but he hadn't been unhappy to hear about it. Leo had poisoned his second's son mind long enough with his expectations and disappointments.

Though Chris was his opponent every step of the way, even he could recognize his brother's intelligence. Having it underestimated by an idiot such as Leo had made him even angrier.

Wyatt took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. Chris and Leo hadn't reached that breaking point yet. Their relationship wouldn't implode until later, though he thought the first cracks appeared after Piper's death. Pitching him against Leo now wasn't the right move. He needed to find the perfect timing, the perfect moment to show him how little Leo cared, and so push him to the road to independence earlier.

Without his father’s expectations hovering over his shoulders, perhaps Chris would be freer…and less morally rigid regarding some things.

"I'll be fine, and I don't need the parents' help," he said, forcing himself not to snap. "Go to school Chris, and I'll see you tonight."

He thought his brother made a face -perhaps hurt? -but masked it quickly. He orbed out of the room before Wyatt could ask what was going on. Alone once more, he closed his eyes and decided that, for lack of better things to do, he needed a nap.

When he opened his eyes again, it was close to lunchtime. He was still alone in her bedroom, although someone had entered and left a plate of cookies and a glass of water on his nightstand. His mother, probably. He grimaced at the thought of someone entering his room while he was unconscious -something that hadn't happened in years, since he would wake up the moment he felt a foreign presence step closer.

Did it mean he felt safe in his own room? Probably. Or the jump in the past had tired him that much.

Wyatt munched on a cookie, emptied the glass and headed back downstairs. His mother had left a note on the table for him -Out for business, let me know when you wake up. Lunch is in the fridge.

Wyatt remembered he had a phone somewhere, found it charging on the wall. The password came back mechanically –good thing he still had his recent memories –and he texted his mother to say he was alright and would probably sleep some more in the afternoon. Only then he went to open the fridge. His plate was already prepared on a plate, as promised. Chicken nuggets and mashed potatoes. Chris's favorite. She always cooked it whenever something upsetting happened to him to cheer him up. Had something happened recently?

Wyatt tried to wrack his memory, came up with nothing. To be fair, he hadn't paid much attention to his brother, back in this time. He was too focused on not drowning under the responsibilities slowly loaded onto his shoulders. His father wanted him to experiment the whitelighter job. He wasn't keen but would try to take on a charge on his sixteenth birthday. A witch named Karl, who took one look and sneered at him. Karl had been the first witch he had killed and made him gain his black orbs.

So he definitively didn't have enough perspective to know what had exactly happened with Chris, though he had a few hypothesis.

School, Leo, or himself. School was a trail in itself for many reasons, most important being a teenager. Leo, he didn't have to go into details. As for himself...He wasn't unaware that Chris had a huge inferiority complex due to their difference in powers. He would have to figure out which one had been the cause of his momentary grimace this morning.

Wyatt put the plate in the microwave. As his meal heated up, he glanced outside. The mechanism of the world was still something that made his hairs stand in frustration. Mortals running around without care, witches forced into hiding...

He groaned and leaned his head back. Perhaps he could have another go at it, using a different method. If the aunts grew as annoying as they used to be...    

The 'ping' brought him back to the present and he opened the microwave to get his food. The smell made him feel like drooling, because how long since he had tasted a meal made by the hands of Chef Piper Halliwell?

He sat at the table, picked his cutlery and-

Someone orbed in. The very last person he wanted to see.

Leo Wyatt.

His father smiled brightly when he saw him and Wyatt's appetite vanished at once. He still forced himself to take a bite and swallow it to stop himself from saying something unfortunate.

The last time he had seen Leo, close to four years ago, he had nearly killed him in a fit of rage. Needless to say, his father had wisely refrained from showing his face since then.

"Hey son, I heard you weren't doing well today."

He wondered who had tattled. Probably his mother. Her intentions weren't bad, but he wished she hadn't bothered.

"'m better," he replied shortly and shoving another nuggets in his mouth. It wasn't as crispy as fresh nuggets but still tasted amazing. Not enough to distract him though.

"Good," Leo said, and under different circumstances, Wyatt thought he could be genuinely worried. He probably was too. He wasn't Chris after all. "Are you going back to school this afternoon?"

Old Wyatt would have said 'yes', not wanting to miss more classes than necessary.

"No, I’m not."

Leo looked slightly surprised.

"If you're feeling better, you're just an orb away. Your education is important."

Wyatt allowed himself to glare at him. That made Leo blink twice.

"I'm still not feeling well," he repeated slowly. "So I'll rest this afternoon. If I missed a vital point, I'm sure someone will keep me up to date."

His tone might have been a little harder than usual, but he wasn't in the mood to deal with his father's...concerns. As far as his late memory went, he had never showed up when Chris was sick.

"Of course," the Elder said, clearly caught off-guard. "I'll leave you to it then."

Wyatt grunted and watched with satisfaction as his father orbed away. He finished his meal in a far better mood and returned to nap some more. The mental pressure hadn't quite alleviated and the opportunity to sleep without behind bothered was too good to be ignored.

This time, he was awoken by the sound of a soft knock and a door creaking open. His brother had come home.

"Hey, you’re feeling better?" Chris asked, not quite entering. Wyatt rubbed his face.

"Yeah. Slept nearly all day long." He remembered Chris's face before leaving and added: "Also sorry for this morning, I was a bit grumpy."

Chris looked caught off-guard by his apology but shrugged it off.

"It's alright, you were upset, it happens."

Wyatt gritted his teeth in annoyance. Deflecting his apology, brushing it aside, as if it meant nothing, as if he hadn’t been hurt. Chris did that a lot, back in that time. It made things easier, he once told him, when they were both alone after Piper’s death. The family was under enough tensions, they didn’t need a teenage kid talking back, even if he was in the right.

“Don’t ever let me talk to you like that,” Wyatt snapped. Chris blinked at him, startled. “Don’t let anyone talk to you like you don’t deserve some respect. You’re worth more than that. Don’t let them walk all over you.” He paused. “Especially when they’re older and acting like jackasses.”

He didn’t say Leo’s name out loud, but Chris caught the hint immediately.

“Easy for you to say. He actually likes you.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll see about that when I decline going Up There for their stupid training sessions again,” he blurted without thinking.

Chris did a double take.

“You’re serious?” He sat on the mattress without being invited to, his eyes flashing in wonder. “Why?”

“Because I know everything there is to know about using my own goddamn powers,” Wyatt replied with a shrug. “There are just moralizing lessons with old idiots who lost touch with reality.” He paused narrowed his eyes, remembering the last few sessions. “Prowling about the Greater Good gets old real fast.” He sighed. “I should have stopped going there a lot sooner.”

His brother narrowed his eyes, inching closer suspiciously. Wyatt recognized that look. He had seen it in the later version. Eyes filled with doubt, catching something not going quite right.

“Who are you?” he suddenly blurted. “What have you done with my brother?”

The question caught him off-guard. Chris’s eyes sparkled violently as he jumped back and pointed his hand at him, ready to use telekinesis at the first reaction. Wyatt watched him with amusement. He was harmless to him of course, but it was still impressing that his instincts were still spot on.

“I am your brother, Chris.”

“You sure as hell don’t sound like him,” he retorted sharply.

“Maybe I got tired of pretending everything’s fine with me,” Wyatt pointed out. Chris fell silent. “Did it ever occur to you that I might not be happy?”

Chris maintained his hand, eyes narrowed. Eventually, he let it down, very slowly. He still was on guard, but Wyatt wasn’t worried. If his brother was truly convinced he had been ‘replaced’, he wouldn’t have waited and already called for reinforcements.

“I know you’re not happy,” he pointed out, and that did surprise Wyatt a little. “You just never talked about it. Besides, you’re not usually keen with telling me all your secrets."

Wyatt reluctantly admitted that he might be right. He hadn't tried to open up to his family, because he believed they would brush away his concerns and fears. Experience taught him that they hardly listened because -he was strong, he shouldn't complain -Parker's favorite argument. And Chris...he had assumed Chris to be too young to understand.

His mistake. Chris was the most likely to understand. He just hadn't seen it at the time. How stupid of him.

"Well, we both suck at communicating," he concluded and moved into a sitting position. "Just so you know, Chris, I'm here. If you need anything, just ask."

He wanted to say -I killed for you, I renounced a throne for you, because you are my brother, mine to protect, and no power is worth giving you up. Or he would have to find a way to make him break from the old morals. Chris was still young, he could still be influenced. Wyatt just had to be patient.

His words made Chris relax a little more. He even dared to smile a bit.

"I'll keep it in mind." He took a step towards the door. "Mom is cooking an early diner, think you're able to come down to eat?"

Hell yeah, Wyatt thought and graciously left the bed. Needless to say, their mother's food was a definite bonus for coming back.

Returning to Magic School proved to be a different kind of challenge. His memories of the time weren't perfectly accurate, especially since he was mostly trying to uphold his image as a good student -in every sense of the word. He briefly remembered who he used to hang out with and who he used to avoid. Sort of. Wyatt Halliwell didn't avoid anyone.

Though if Tim Burkland kept opening his big mouth, he might shut it with his fist. Tolerance for idiocy only came so far.

The other issue he faced was the no-longer dead people he met. He didn't remember half of his 'friends', but he did remember dismembering Lucas Sotman, beheading Allison Burke and fucking Lola Sanders. Seth welcomed him with a smile. Wyatt felt a vague wave of affection towards one of his future most loyal generals. The half-manticore had chosen to follow him instead of turning to the path of light. He had known, from the very beginning, that his best chance of survival in Wyatt's world was by Wyatt's side and hadn’t strayed once.

"Chris said you weren't feeling well yesterday," he started. "You better now?"

He glanced at them, recalling the names of the whole group. Aside from Seth, he remembered Dorian and Betty. Wyatt waved his worries away.

"Bit of a fever and tiredness. Nothing that will kill me. Shouldn’t we be moving?”

"Georgie hadn't arrived yet," Betty announced.

“How long till he shows up?" he asked, racking his memories to remember. Georgie...a short skinny teenager who kept following him everywhere in Magic School. Wasn't he also the one with a demonic cousin or something? The name rang a bell in the back of his mind, where could he have heard it?

"Not sure," Betty shrugged. "You know how he is."

Seth made a face - a slight sign of irritation he quickly masked. Wyatt thought exactly the same. His fifteen-year-old brain memory informed him that 'Georgie' was usually late, but used the whole group as a buffer to make his entrance unnoticed.

"Let's go ahead, he'll join in due time," Wyatt announced. Dorian blinked, Betty looked surprised. Seth rolled his eyes and started walking.

"But if he comes in late without you, the teacher will give him detention," Betty pointed out.

"Then he should learn to be on time," Wyatt retorted dryly before turning to Seth. "Where are going already?"

Seth led him graciously to the next class, gleefully ignoring the astonished faces of the two others.

Classes were, unsurprisingly, boring. Wyatt couldn't claim he had been an excellent student -the ace was Chris hands down, while he was just above average, no matter what Leo hinted at. Returning to School at twenty-five with absolutely no interest in the class was borderline torture.

He had no idea what he wanted to do before starting his conquest of the Underworld. The big talk about college or becoming a fulltime whitelighter had just been for show, a way to divert attention. Now that he was back in the past, he actually needed to figure this out. There were a few objectives he wanted to reach before the end of the year and made a definitive decision. Things not related to his future.

First, pull Chris out of Leo’s influence. Their father’s hold on Chris was still strong, and Wyatt hated the idea of having his brother hurting because of that idiot.

Next, set up a healthier family environment for his brother. If the aunts were still as obnoxious as ever, he might have to act in that regard too. Especially with Phoebe. Paige could be reasoned with. As for his mother…

The third installment in his plan was, of course, his mother’s survival. He still didn’t place it as a priority, because Fate could be fairly determined when it had a course in mind and he was just the heir of Arthur etcetera…Piper Halliwell not dying on Chris’s birthday would be fairly nice too.

"You're really distracted today," Seth pointed out once they left the class. "Sure you're alright?"

Wyatt was about to reply when he spotted Chris in the afar. His brother wasn't alone. He was standing with someone whose name Wyatt definitively remembered, and not for the best reasons.

Wilhelm Turner. A quiet, shy witch, second or third generation pixie blood, Chris’ best friend at the time. Also very deserving of his last name, because he was the biggest turncoat Wyatt had ever met. Wilhelm had been his spy amongst the Resistance. A quiet, close companion to Chris, and yet…

Head bowed, body trembling, confessing everything Wyatt needed to know…

“Wyatt?” He looked up, Seth flinched back. “Man, you look like you’re about to kill someone.”

He might. If he lingered, he very much might. Turner had fed his demons information, information that had led to his brother’s death. There would be no fucking forgiveness here. He had been killed on spot in the wake of Wyatt’s anger, but it didn’t feel enough. Wyatt didn’t think the little bastard had paid enough. He had died too quickly.

The fourth and last installment of his plan had just formed into his mind. Make sure his brother wouldn’t end up surrounded by traitors.

Chapter Text

For Chris: Aftermath

2

Splitting Leo and Chris didn’t take much effort on his end. Father and son already had a fragile relationship, and the former didn’t put much effort in managing the latter. The campaign began when their father came one bright afternoon, just a week after his return. In his memories, Leo sometimes showed up unexpectedly to bring him Up-There for a ‘training session’. His absolute belief that Wyatt would drop everything to follow him was so anchored that when he showed up, smiling brightly, announcing they were expected by the Elders-

“No.”

Leo’s smile fell, slightly confused. Piper wasn’t around but he knew Chris was in his bedroom. And Chris always eavesdropped on their conversation whenever Leo showed up. Not necessarily out of curiosity, but wanting to know if his name would pop up sometime, if their sorry excuse of a father every thought of him.

“What do you mean, no?” Leo repeated. “I told you I might have to come and get you around this time of the week.”

Wyatt nodded towards his desk. For once, his most dreaded activity would come in handy.

“No. I’m going to the library to finish a group project. We already had to move the date because of my last session with the Elders,” he added, which wasn’t quite true. The old project had already been turned in, this one was new, but they had had to move meeting dates for that reason before. “I need time for my homework, not work on my powers.”

Leo’s expression turned slightly contrite.

“Managing your powers is important, Wyatt, if you-“

Wyatt wordlessly summoned a foam ball and threw it in the air. It vanished mid throw only to orb back and drop on his bed on a basket.

“I have enough control,” he announced. The ball exercise was something one of the Elders –he couldn’t bother to remember the name –had taught him. An exercise of precision, one he had a lot of trouble mastering in the beginning. Leo stared at him, pleasantly surprised.

“Amazing, Wyatt,” he praised. “You must have worked a lot.”

No, just muscle memory, he thought sarcastically. It had taken him a few days to get used to the flow of his powers again –not quite the same feeling, not quite the same regulation. One of the few things he had learned from Up There was to move precisely with magic. It had been a great help when he had infiltrated the mortals’ buildings and defeated their ridiculously lethal weapons with a flick of a finger.

“Take Chris with you instead,” Wyatt added. “I’m sure he would appreciate the training. He’d be good at it.”

And that was the truth. When facing a challenge, his brother didn’t back down. He dug and searched and sniffed around until he found a way. Like rising a hell of a Resistance against his brother.

Leo’s appreciation seemed to melt then.

“I thought…Up There was our thing, you know. Our father-son bonding time.”

And Wyatt was very well hoping that Chris was listening, because his father had just given him the greatest opening ever.

“I didn’t realize that,” he replied coldly. “What do you do with Chris?” His father shifted uncomfortably. Wyatt narrowed his eyes. “You do realize you have two sons, right? How do you bound with Chris?”

Leo made a sort of grimace.

“I don’t know how,” he said. “Your brother is much more difficult to approach than you are. Besides, I’m really busy. There is always something going on around the world. Evil never sleeps.”

So, too busy for Chris but not for me? Wyatt wanted to snap, feeling the irritation growing already.

“Right,” he grunted, and something in his tone must have caught Leo’s attention, because he was now frowning.

“What is it, Wyatt?” he sounded concerned and cautious at the same time.

“Nothing. You wouldn’t get it even if I spelled it anyway,” he replied dryly. He shouldered his backpack, faced his father. They were evenly heighted at this point. Chris was still a little shorter, but would catch up once he hit his growth spurt. Leo, with that unnerving look of never-ending patience, crossed his arms.

“Try me.”

Wyatt rolled his eyes and started packing his stuff. He wished he could just force Leo to orb out of the room to shut him up, but he had forgotten how to use that trick. Besides, he had lost his white orbs a long time ago, so he might be lacking practice. And he didn’t think he could get away with hurting him just yet. There was a reason why he took out the Elders first. The sneaky bastards might still bind his powers, if he acted up wrong.

Wyatt took a deep breath, exhaled slowly.

“You have two sons. You favor one and ignore the other,” he blurted out loud. Leo blinked, frowned, but Wyatt didn’t give him time to reply. “You ignore Chris,” he repeated, more heated now. “And you give all your time to me, to mom, to the world. Why do you hate him so much?”

“I don’t-“ Leo started, but Wyatt wasn’t done.

“You have two sons, Leo,” he repeated spitefully. “Two sons. And I’m done watching you put Chris aside because I, apparently, need your help with my powers.”

“Wyatt, you are the most power-“

“Chris is just as well the son of a witch and a whitelighter, and he’s supposed to learn on his own?”

“Magic School-“

“Doesn’t cover crossbreeds,” Wyatt snapped, taking a step closer. He felt vaguely satisfied that Leo flinched a little. “Chris has to learn everything on his own, while I am given everything on a silver plate.”

His father’s expression became unreadable. After a few moments of silence, he asked:

“Did Chris complain to you about this?”

The coolness of that tone was enough to finish him. Wyatt snorted and shook his head. What a moron. What did their mother ever saw in him?

“No he didn’t. He never complains. He’s so desperate for your attention that he would never dare complain. And I’m sick of watching this. You have two sons Leo, or you have none. Make up your mind.”

Upon those words, he left the room, bumping into his father on the way. Just as he stepped into the corridor, he spotted Chris’ half-opened door and some movement behind. So his brother had heard everything. Good, he thought, and stepped downstairs. He hoped Leo would prove as much as a disappointment in this timeline as he had in the alternative. Chris didn’t need a man like him to hold him back.

The discussion wouldn’t go without ramifications. For once, Wyatt wasn’t in a hurry to leave the library to go home.

“You look troubled.”

He glanced up, met Nora Barton’s golden eyes. She and Frankie Olsen had been looking for another pair to complete their group. Seth had invited himself –and Wyatt –to join. A move Wyatt was starting to regret, because the youthful face of the teenage girl was often being superposed to the one of the eldest version. It was very distracting, to remember her without those thick glasses and missing half her body.

“I’m fine, just tired,” he replied, and that was the truth.

He hadn’t thought of how mentally exhausting it would be. For years, he had answered to no-one but himself and merely crushed whoever came in his way. Now, after realizing what forsaking everything he had accomplished and pretending to be a teenager again actually meant, he did have a few regrets. Starting with the way missing how everyone flinched away from him in fear. Gave him space. Sucked up to him.

The way Leo had so casually acted around him reminded him why he had just decided to turn his back on everything. He wasn’t a pushover. He was powerful. But no-one seemed to realize how easily he could crush them if he wanted to. Starting with Chris-

…well, Chris had always been aware of that. He just never really cared, more or less comforted in the certainty that Wyatt would never lay a hand on him. Or maybe he was just reckless by nature. Both were plausible.

“Yeah, no, still frowning,” Seth piped in. “What’s on your mind?”

Perhaps it was the familiar attitude, the concern in his eyes, but Wyatt felt himself mellowing and leaned back against his chair.

“Family angst,” he grunted. “Favoritism at play. And me getting tired of staying back and watching it happen.”

Frankie snorted, making him jump. He had forgotten about that one’s presence. Had he really lowered his guard so easily?

“To each their own,” the last member said. Nora hummed and Seth shrugged. Wyatt glared at him. The other boy rolled his eyes. “Wake up, Halliwell. You’re a Name out there, we get it, but you’re not the only one with family issues.”

It was more than family issues, he wanted to reply, but Nora stepped in and added:

“Right back at you Frank. If he wants to complain, he’s just as entitled as you are to do it.” She glanced at him next. “I’m sorry to hear it’s not easy at home. Is there anything you need to help?”

Wyatt stared at her, at loss at what to say. He eventually shrugged and said:

“I think I’m handling it, but thanks for asking.” He glanced at the clock. Past seven. Good thing the library of Magic School never closed. “Need to get going anyway.”

The three others followed his gaze and concurred. Wyatt orbed home at once. He didn’t announce his presence yet, curious as to see how his experiment had turned out. Piper still hadn’t returned home. When he went up, there was light in Chris’s bedroom. He gently knocked on his brother’s door and pushed in.

Chris was sitting at his desk, hunched over a book. When he heard Wyatt enter, he turned around and glared at him.

“I didn’t say come in!”

Wyatt froze in the doorstep, staring straight on his brother’s face. Or more precisely, on the shiner over his left eye. His pulse raced through his body as he observed the bruise, wondered if…

“Did he do that?” he asked, hearing his own voice growing ice cold. Chris stiffened, looked away.

“You kinda riled him up earlier,” he pointed out.

“I riled him up and he hit you in return?” Wyatt spat, incredulous. He stepped closer, grabbed his brother’s chin, tilted it to the side so he could have a better look. Chris pulled away, Wyatt let him escape. A horrible thought crossed his mind. “Is this the first time?”

His brother jumped off his chair and headed out into the corridor. Wyatt followed through, his heart thumping loudly in his chest.

“Chris, I asked a question,” he said, his tone dangerously slipping closer to the one he would take as a displeased leader. “Did Leo do this to you and is it the first time?”

Had he missed it the first time around? Had he truly been so deep into his own anger that he had missed their father raising his hand on his little brother?

His brother turned around in the middle of the corridor, glared at him.

“He got pissed off because he thought I told you all the stuff you said,” Chris snarled back. “And yes, it’s the first time. I know he didn’t mean to, he apologized after.” There was a pained glint in his eye. “Why did you tell him that? He’s only going to end up hating me!”

“He doesn’t like you already, Chris,” Wyatt delivered bluntly and watched as his brother paled. “If he had any regards for you, he would be there when you call. He ignores you, he doesn’t respect you.” He paused and added: “He doesn’t respect me either. The attention he gives me is layers and layers of expectations. It’s not healthy and you deserve better than that asshole. We both do.”

Chris made a sound, like an uncomfortable squeak, and walked past by, shoving Wyatt as he did. The bedroom door slammed behind hard, but Wyatt wasn’t quite upset about his brother’s reaction. Instead, he only looked coolly at where his brother had disappeared. Leo had hit Chris. Wyatt believed him when he said it was the first time, otherwise their father would have remembered to heal him before letting someone else see. Someone like…

The front door opened and Wyatt heard the familiar step of his mother cross the threshold. Right there, he felt the urge to smile, because Leo was making things far too easy for him. If he was his father’s golden child, Chris was Piper’s. Wyatt didn’t doubt she loved them both, but she did tend to overcompensate in her youngest favor. He stomped down loudly down the stairs, making enough noise to let his brother understand at once what he was up to.

Too late, the door of his bedroom opened but Wyatt was already downstairs, facing their mother who just looked like she had spent a very bad evening.

Even better.

“Did you know dad hit Chris?” he blurted in an angry tone that wasn’t quite exaggerated. Piper froze mid-movement, eyes darting straight to the upper floor. Chris was standing in the shadow of the handrail, not quite hiding from his mother’s piercing gaze. He looked frozen, like a deer caught in headlights. And Piper dropped her bag and joined him at once.

Wyatt didn’t follow. Their voices carried out loud enough, he could eavesdrop from down here. He was content to pick up his mother’s fallen bag and the materiel that had spilled on the floor and carried it to the kitchen. Her wallet, ID, some pepper spray…he set everything on the table and returned in the main hall.

‘-how long Chris?’

‘-I was being pushy-‘

Wyatt walked back up the steps, taking care of not making too much noise.

‘don’t find him excuses –LEO!’

He reached his brother’s bedroom just in time to see their father orb in, expression light, expecting to find his wife alone. His expression fell at once when he saw Chris standing there, as rigid as a cornered prey, utterly frozen. Wyatt joined the room, stepped in front of Chris, physically drawing a wall between them both. Leo didn’t miss the action, and neither did Piper.

“You and I, downstairs,” she ordered coolly.

Leo stared at his eldest son. Wyatt glared back. Husband and wife left the room in silence and shut the door behind. Once they were gone, he caught Chris’s body shaking and caught him before his legs gave in.

“Don’t touch me!” Chris hissed, halfway stumbling to the floor. He moved to the bed, sat on the mattress, his elbows on his knees, hid his face in his hands. For a moment, nothing was heard aside from Chris’s attempts to regulate his breath. His body was still shaking, but less than earlier.

“Why did you do this?” he asked eventually, his voice tight and raw. “I swear it was the first time.”

“First time doesn’t mean only time, Chris,” he replied and stepped closer. To his relief, his brother didn’t flinch. “He might have done it again.”

Chris took a deep breath, removed his hands and glared at him.

“It’s all your fault,” he hissed. “You riled him up. Dad thought I had been complaining to you and I –I tried to say that I didn’t, but you had to say something about having two sons or none at all and he hated it!” His eyes flashed as he added more angrily: “Why did you tell him that! I was fine! I was-“

He looked down again, stared at his shoes, fists tights and biting his lower lip. Wyatt sat next to him on the mattress and waited until Chris could breathe more peacefully. Up in his room, he couldn’t hear what was going on downstairs. He hoped Piper wouldn’t be sweet-talked into forgiving Leo, and would keep him away from the manor. Then again, he was her husband and she trusted him. One couldn’t erase years of marriage in a snap of a finger.

He pushed those last thoughts in the back of his mind. If Piper didn’t step up as a mother and failed to protect her son, he would be there to do it. And maybe give Leo a shiner back on the way.

“You weren’t fine,” Wyatt made himself speak. “You weren’t fine and I wasn’t fine either. It took me a while to admit it, but now that I know, I’m not going back to how it was. Leo stopped being a father the moment he agreed to become an Elder. Ever since that event, he became different. It was going to blow up one day or another, Chris. He was always going to forget what being a father meant.”

Chris remained silent, still staring determinedly at the floor. He was only thirteen, Wyatt had to remind himself, not an adult. He hadn’t gone through betrayals and battles yet. Just a child.

“Hey, c’me here,” he said and held out his hand. “I wanna bring you somewhere.”

His brother stilled, eyed him suspiciously. In the end, the old brotherly trust took over and he took it. His fingers’ grasp felt tentative and uneasy, but solid enough. Wyatt orbed them away, up to the highest hill outside of San Francisco.

The view of the city was amazing from up there, especially since the night had fallen and lights were spurring it to nocturnal life. The air didn’t feel as heavy then, less polluted maybe. The sky was a little starry too, a very nice evening. Chris stared at the sight, blinking slowly. His hold tightened slightly, and Wyatt understood it as uneasiness.

“What are we doing here?”

They were utterly alone, not a sound, only perhaps the yapping of an animal nearby. Wyatt pulled his hand and led him a few steps away. He dropped his hold to move a few bushes around, clearing the spot to unveil a small rock formation. Chris remained silent in his back, watching him with curiosity.

“Here,” Wyatt spoke as he found what he was looking for. “Put your hand right there.” His brother complied. As his fingers brushed the rock, even in the darkness, Wyatt could spot his surprise. He smirked, pleased with himself. “Feels good eh?”

“What is –what’s that?” Chris asked, kneeling now and putting both hands down. The rock formation in plain daylight had the shape of a turtle, at least in Wyatt’s imagination. That was how he had found it the first time, by pretending to kneel and caress its carapace. A childish reflex.

“It’s the tip of a magic source.” His brother’s attention snapped up. “Not nearly as powerful as the Nexus under the manor, but you can get a good high if you stay long enough.”

“Isn’t it dangerous?” Chris removed his hands. “I thought you could get addicted to these things.”

Wyatt shrugged, sat down next the rock. His fingers brushed the top and he felt the familiar tingling race through his hand. He had missed it.

“Hearsay,” he replied. “It’s just an excuse for Elders to keep witches away from it. It’s no worse than eating chocolate. Your magic is just…titillated for a bit, but it doesn’t give you power or take away any. Feels good though, right?”  

He observed as his brother smiled a little, touching the rock more gently. He knew what he must be feeling. The surprise, amazement event, at such a contact. The spot had dried out soon after Wyatt had revealed magic to the world, a consequence of opening a doorway to the Underworld nearby. He had genuinely mourned it before moving onto something else. Standing back there with Chris gave it a different meaning.

“You’re being awfully nice to me lately,” his brother remarked. The sharp observing eyes had returned, much to Wyatt’s annoyance. He didn’t take offense though; it meant Chris was coming around, reluctantly accepting his new behavior. “Is there a reason why?”

“I told you, I dreamt of a world where you weren’t there and it sucked,” he replied honestly. “I just want to let you know how much I appreciate having you in my life.”

In spite of the semi-darkness, Wyatt could tell Chris was embarrassed. He smirked a little when he finally sat down, his hand still on the rock.

“I’m glad you’re here too,” Chris said eventually, not looking at him.

They remained silent for a long time, contemplating the sight of a busy city.

When they returned home, Piper was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the stove with an empty gaze. She forced a smile when they orbed in, and Wyatt could tell she had been close to crying.

“Had a nice outing, boys?” she asked, her voice tight but even. Her eyes lingered on her youngest with a pained expression.

“Yeah, it was fine,” Chris replied, still looking down. “I’m sorry mom.”

Piper stood up, stepped closer and gave him a hug. Seeing them together brought back powerful memories, and Wyatt had to remember he had yet another important goal to follow. Make sure their mother would survive past Chris’s fourteenth birthday. He wouldn’t be old enough to get guardianship of his sibling yet, and hell would freeze over before he went to live with his aunts again.

“You are not at fault, Chris. I promise Leo won’t raise a hand on you ever again,” she said, her voice now steel.

And Wyatt was glad she couldn’t see Chris’s expression. He had the face of someone who didn’t believe a word of it.

He met up with his cousins again that very weekend. Piper had believed a little family time would cheer Chris up. She wasn’t wrong, Chris loved his cousins, but Wyatt thought a nice peaceful moment without drama would have been preferable.

Phoebe’s daughters came in first. He remembered his relationship with each of them both future and present-wise.

PJ was alright. They could talk about stuff and she was closer to Chris in age, so the gap wasn’t that large. She was the reasonable, taking charge one –except when he, the natural elder one, was around. In the future, she had been killed by Seth during an official duel. Parker was as much as a drama queen and a pest that he remembered. A surprising vicious witch in combat though. She had been the only surviving daughter when he made the time jump. Peyton was too young for them to have any kind of bound. It didn’t help that she was painfully shy and barely spoke to anyone. He thought she had died in the future, caught by some disease in Europe so he wasn’t even sure of any active or passive power.

Then came Paige’s kids. He, Kat and Tamora had a good relationship in the past. They were reasonable, funny and a lot more down to earth. Their powers had been bounded very young, which was probably the reason why they were considered the ‘normal’ one in the lot. In the future, the pair was a force to reckon with. He had lost many demons to them before they were vanquished, protecting mortals. Henry Jr., the mortal cousin, mostly stuck with Peyton and Chris. He didn’t even remember if he had survived in the future.

Chris always had a soft spot for the younger ones. It was a weakness Wyatt had used before, drawing him out using children. Afterthought, perhaps Piper was right. Taking care of the cousins whom Chris saw as siblings would be a good way to distract him.

He hung out near the kitchen where the three sisters were talking, pretexting a need to use the bathroom. The kids could entertain themselves a few moments, he needed to know what was going on in the grand scheme of things. Past the pleasantries, they would be talking witchcraft, demons or everyday life issues. Like him and Chris.

“-got a new promotion,” he heard Phoebe said. “I’m almost done with paying the apartment.” Sigh. “Not easy when you’re the only one working to support a family. I love Coop, but it would help a bit if he brought in a little income.”

…or maybe not.

“At least you have a good pay,” Paige grumbled. “Henry is a parole officer. I took a part-time job to support us because otherwise, we would still be in debt. I didn’t realize how hard it would be to be a fulltime whitelighter. I don’t think Elders realize I’m just human.”

Human, alive, with the basic need to eat, drink and sleep to function, Wyatt thought with a snort that Elders had forgotten about that little detail too.

“And the girls are traumatized because I can’t buy them everything they want, no matter how much I want to,” Phoebe added with a whine. “Parker wanted one of those shirts from a new fancy brand. I had to tell her to wait a little.”

Silence. Wyatt thought some things really hadn’t changed. Phoebe’s girls were still spoiled, Paige still struggled financially and Piper-

“Things aren’t doing great with Leo right now,” Piper finally blurted, and he peeked up to listen. Now that was what he wanted to hear. “He’s very demanding with Wyatt-“

“Nothing new there,” Paige muttered with a hint of sarcasm, which surprised him. He wasn’t aware that his aunt realized that things weren’t as well as it seemed between him and his father. Why didn’t she intervene back then? He wondered bitterly.

“And he punched Chris the other day.”

Another deafening silence. Wyatt stood very still, waiting for the reaction.

“He what?” Paige snapped, her voice holding disbelief.

“That doesn’t sound like Leo,” Phoebe said skeptically. “Did he provoke him?”

“I saw the bruise Phoebe, and you know Chris,” Piper replied dryly. “He never gets in trouble if he can avoid it, especially with Leo. He works so hard to get his attention-”

“Then what happened? Do you know the details?”

Wyatt rolled his eyes. Typical Phoebe. He remembered she took Leo’s side a lot, in his timeline. There was a reason why Chris favored Paige.

“Apparently Wyatt and Leo had an argument, and Leo thought Chris had been involved in some way.” Piper wouldn’t get into details. Wyatt wondered if a part of her still wanted to spare her husband. “Leo isn’t very patient with Chris.”

“He is very busy,” Phoebe pointed out. “Hear Paige when she complains not having enough time to do everything-“

“Hey, don’t pull me into this,” Paige shot back, a hint of uneasiness in her voice. “I still make time for my kids and my husband.”

“I know Chris’s birth wasn’t ideal,” Piper went on, and Wyatt froze upon hearing those words. “And there was that incident with Wyatt and Leo when Chris was born…”

Another pause. Wyatt frowned. What incident?

“Wyatt came back on his own,” Phoebe said on a softer tone. “But maybe that’s why Leo is more focused on him? He’s afraid it might happen again?”

Someone snorted.

“Wyatt is no longer a baby,” Piper said. “He’s growing stronger every year. Soon he’ll be stronger than me.”

Wrong mom, I already am, he thought, annoyed. He would like to know more about the ‘incident’ though.

“Sucks though,” Paige said. A chair made a moving sound, like someone was readjusting. “So what about Leo now?”

“I told him I needed time to think, and to stay away from Chris, unless he called him first.” Pause. “But since Leo rarely answers his calls in the first place…”

Wyatt stepped away from the wall and returned to the living room, where the cousins and Chris were involved in some kind of game. No-one had noticed his absence, and he hadn’t been gone long anyway. Only Peyton seemed to stare at him with a curious air, but he brushed the inquiry away. It wasn’t as if an eight year-old kid would be aware of her teenage cousin’s odd behavior anyway.

The aunts now knew that Leo behaved like an idiot. He would have to wait for their response. Depending on what they did…he would figure out his next move.

Chapter Text

For Chris: Aftermath

3

True to Piper’s words, Leo didn’t show up at the manor for the next few days. Or at least, if he did, Wyatt never came across him. He was both happy and suspicious about that. Happy, because their father left Chris alone like that, suspicious, because it wasn’t in Leo’s nature to ‘abandon’ family. He suspected the aunts to give him regular updates. They had too much history together to put him aside completely.

And speaking of history…

Their words on the ‘incident’ that happened to him kept invading his mind. He wondered why an old story bothered him, but since it seemed important enough to ‘justify’ Leo’s behavior towards him, he wanted to know more. He chose a Saturday morning to make his move, making sure Chris wouldn’t be in the way –sleeping in upstairs –and his mother alone –buried in paperwork.

“Mom, can I talk to you for a moment?”

Piper put down her papers and looked at him, probably wondering what he wanted. He took it as an invitation and sat at the table. Once settled, he used his most apologetic voice to say:

“I kinda overheard you the other day, when you were talking with the aunts. About something that happened at Chris’ birth. Something that happened to me. Could you tell me more about it?”

Piper sighed, her shoulders slumping, her face drawn. She looked old and tired for a moment, more than in his earliest memories.

“It’s an old story, Wyatt,” she said reluctantly. “And you’re fine right now.”

“I’d still like to know.” Firmer tone, no joking behind. He didn’t know why he felt he ought to know about it, but his guts had never wronged him before. “Please?”

Piper watched him, still hesitating. In the end, she relented.

“I was about to give birth to Chris. Your father and aunts saw me off to the hospital, but when they returned to the living room, you weren’t in your playpen anymore. We had no idea where you had gone. We tried to look for you, scry for you, summon you, but you wouldn’t answer our calls. Our best bet was that a demon snatched you away and brought you to the Underworld, because that’s the only place your father couldn’t reach you.” She looked down, no doubt reliving the moment. “You came back the next day. Somehow you found your way out and returned to us. You were very scared for a while. You’d orb away anytime someone orbed in. And then Chris started following you around and you had to let go of that fear, because you couldn’t escape your baby brother.”

She paused and smiled faintly. Wyatt carefully showed no reaction, because he wasn’t certain how to feel right now. He went missing as a baby, and for a long time, associated orbs with danger. Orbs were usually ‘good’, so…

“I’m glad you developed such a good relationship with your brother.” Her voice interrupted his thoughts. “I’m proud if you, for watching over him. I’m proud of both of you and I love you, I hope you know that.”

Wyatt brushed his reflection for later and focused back on his mother. She was watching him with a thin but genuine smile, her brown eyes warm. He took a discreet deep breath and exhaled. Her death had made everything worse, like a black curtain falling over his eyes. It had been the last straw that sealed his decision to take over the Underworld, and then push magic in the open. He wondered if he would have still gone and started his conquest of the Underworld, had she remained alive…had he been able to answer Chris’s call that day…

“Thanks mom,” he said abruptly before letting emotions get the better of him and stood up. “I love you too.”

She smiled and went back to her paperwork. Wyatt returned to his bedroom, slightly annoyed with himself, and also slightly shaken. He hadn’t gotten exactly what he wanted from their conversation, no definite answers and more questions. As a baby, he had gone missing and upon his return, had been afraid of orbs. Anyone with a hint of sense could understand what that meant.

Whoever had taken him could orb, and something told him that since they still didn’t know what happened, they still didn’t know who had done it, even decades later. Demons weren’t the only thing he would have to watch out for.

Perhaps I have been right to be wary of Elders from the get go, he thought soberly. Unless his own father or aunt had tried to get rid of him, he could only think of Elders or whitelighters. And coincidentally, the formers were the only ones who were still powerful enough to bind his powers. His priorities might have to be shuffled around again. He couldn’t kill Elders now without attracting suspicions, but if he could at least find a way to keep his powers safe from their greasy hands…

Chris’s footsteps distracted him from his thoughts. Wyatt frowned, wondering why on earth he would be up early too. His brother looked cheerful, jumping down the stairs, but his expression froze once he saw him.

“Hey, you’re okay?” he immediately asked. Damn him for being oddly attuned to his moods…

Wyatt wanted to force a smile. It didn’t come. He decided to be truthful. If he couldn’t be honest with his brother, then what used was he to him? He wanted to build a trusting relationship, a stronger bound that they had from the alternative timeline.

“Just a lot of things on my mind,” he replied and added before Chris could ask more details: “Where are you headed?”

His brother seemed to hesitate between pushing his inquiries and answering. In the end, he replied:

“I’m off to meet with Will and some girl named Sarah. We were going to the mall.” He grinned a little. “Will has a huge crush on her, I’m being the wingman.”

“How kind of you,” Wyatt said, half sarcastic, half genuine. “Go have fun.”

His face must have betrayed something, because Chris rolled his eyes and said:

“You really don’t like Will much.”

It wasn’t even a question. In the past week, Wyatt had tried to spend more time with him, talked to him more. His reactions to Turner’s name hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“No, I don’t,” he declared honestly.

“And you still won’t tell me why?”

Wyatt rolled his eyes.

“Just a feeling, alright? He’s your friend, you like him, I don’t, that’s all. I’m sure there are friends of mine that you don’t like either.”

He couldn’t explicitly say: ‘that bastard betrays you in the future’. And one hard-learned lesson with Chris was that pushing him in one way will just get him running in the other direction. If he explicitly expressed his dislike of Turner, though they were in good terms, Chris might latch onto the little traitor even harder. A vague, detached dislike would have to do for now. With some luck, that friendship might even fade in time without his intervention.

“Seth is fine,” Chris replied with a shrug. Wyatt noticed he didn’t name the other idiots surrounding him. He wondered if Chris knew that Seth was likely to be his only genuine friend.

“Of course he is.” He tapped on his brother’s shoulder and said: “Go help Tu-Will catch his girl.”

Chris rolled his eyes but was smiling nonetheless. He went downstairs, vaguely waving over his shoulder in a hurried goodbye. Wyatt watched him go and shut the door behind. His brother had been in a much better mood since he had been assured their father wouldn’t show up again. He could only hope it would last. In the meantime, he had some research to do.

He orbed to Magic School, and more precisely, to the library. He wanted to find a way to keep his powers protected from Elders, or at least be warned if they –or anyone else –tried to bind them. Except that he didn’t know where to start.

Back in the old days, he had people to do research for him. He would double check any findings or have someone under his direct control to do it, but he had basically forgotten what it meant to have a task to accomplish on his own that didn’t involve using his brute power. That was more of his brother’s domain, planning specific missions. And what would his brother do in his stead, right now?

Wyatt snorted and stepped closer to the shelves. It was a trick Chris had involuntary taught him in their later years of Magic School. This was, after all, a Magic Library. He had a book to find, he could just ask.

‘I invoke thee, magic of this place,

Guide me to what I’m looking for,

So I can sleep at peace beneath thick armor.’

Not the brightest spell he had made up, but he assumed it would be enough. Just as the thought crossed his mind, five books flew out of a nearby shelf and slowly floated in his direction. Wyatt took them, curious about the titles. All were magically shield-related. He hummed in satisfaction. That sounded promising.

“Thank you,” he addressed the empty air before taking the books with him. “I’m sure it will be very informative.”

He orbed out of the library, back to his room. The afternoon was barely starting, Chris wasn’t in the house, his mother was busy with paperwork downstairs…it was a perfect time to study.

The peacefulness didn’t last ten minutes.

He barely had time to skim over the introduction when-

‘Wy?’

His brother’s voice. He glanced around, wondering where the damn sound could be coming from. A ghost? No, a spell?

‘Hey, Wy?’ The voice repeated a little more insisting.

In his head, he realized. He was hearing his brother’s voice in his head…because of their bound. A brotherly bound, formed in their youth, that somehow allowed them to communicate through a variant of telepathy and localize each other instinctively. How could have forgotten about it?

Because Chris severed it the day he formed the Resistance so he wouldn’t be able to track him, join him or summon him back.

Wyatt grimaced bitterly. If the bound had still been active back then, could he have felt that his brother had been about to die? He would have to be careful to maintain it active.

‘Wyatt, a little urgent here…’

He hurriedly placed the books in the back of his drawer and cast a small illusion spell upon it. Just basic magic, hardly detectable. Then he closed his eyes, breathed in deeply and let his orbs be drawn to his brother, answering his call. He reformed in a side street, right next to Chris. Chris, who was standing behind a wall, peeking at something discreetly in the corner. Wyatt brushed his shoulder. He made an amusingly high jump and a quiet startled noise.

“Geez, make some noise next time, I didn’t hear you arrive,” he grumbled, putting his hand over his chest in a dramatic gesture. “You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“Pretty sure you would survive that,” Wyatt retorted wryly and looked around. “Where are your…friends?”

“I think there’s a demon out there. Sarah’s mortal, so Will took her to another store to distract her and put her to safety,” Chris announced, glancing back at the street. Wyatt bit back a snort. Hiding away already, how unexpected. “See the guy with the red coat?”

Wyatt followed his gaze and stiffened. Oh yes, he recognized that one alright. Rogart had been one of the few demons infiltrated in the mortal world, planting seeds amongst the higher ranks of politics to smooth things over with demons. Future Chris had vanquished him, he didn’t remember quite how.

“I think I saw his face in the Book,” Chris added quietly, oblivious to his inner turmoil. “Do you remember seeing him? I didn’t want to call in mom in case I was wrong.”

“You have the whole book memorized,” he pointed out. “I trust you with your instincts.”

He wasn’t lying. Chris had an unhealthy obsession with the Book of Shadows and a knack for research, which was why he made sure to deny him access to the Book and the magic school library the moment he took over. Besides, he owed Rogart no loyalty. It was the idiot’s own fault for getting on a Halliwell’s radar.

“Thanks,” his brother replied, sounding a little smug, before his expression dropped a little. “I think he’s an emotion-based demon? Influences people’s thoughts-“

-implants an idea, make it simmer, till it becomes an obsession that always ends badly, he mentally completed.

“-and I’m not sure how to vanquish him,” he concluded, sounding irritated at that.

“We blow him up,” Wyatt suggested. Chris glared at him.

“Har-har, I’m only a low-level telekinetic, Wy. You’re the one who blows up demons with a flick of a finger.”

He smirked.

“Isn’t that why you called me here? So I could blow him up?”

Chris tensed and looked down and Wyatt was guiltily reminded that his thirteen-year-old little brother had harbored an inferiority complex for a very long time already. As a teenager, it would be even worse. He bit back a sigh; there wasn’t much he could work on there.

“Look, Chris, you wanted to check on a hunch. If innocents are in danger, the fastest course was to call me and you did it. Now the demon is here, I am here, I say we still need to drag him somewhere and voila! I promise next time there’s a demon and we have time to prepare, I’ll let you deliver the killing blow. Deal?”

He still looked a little sullen but at least it wasn’t as bad as earlier.

“Fine.”

Rogart went on the move. As discreetly as they could, the two brothers mingled into the crowd and approached them. It was a marvel, truly, to be hunting demons again alongside his brother. Wyatt loved that they could pretend to speak of inconsequential things and still be on the lookout. They hadn’t done much of hunting together in their teenage years, at least not as long as Piper was alive. She considered them too young still, wouldn’t let them run after demons. Under different circumstances, Wyatt would agree. Chris was still thirteen. He, however, was a twenty-five year old stuck in a fifteen-year-old body and the memories of how to use his powers the right way. Chris was safe as long as he was around.

The demon made a turn to a corner. Chris slowed and whispered:

“Think he spotted us?”

It was very likely, Wyatt knew Chris knew it too.

“Stepping back?” Wyatt suggested.

“You kidding?” Chris blurted before engaging into the alley.

Wyatt rolled his eyes. To be young and daring…unfortunately, that attitude hadn’t changed for a decade. Should he try to build him some self-preservation instinct? From his own recent fifteen-year-old memories, his brother didn’t have much experience in the field…

Chris made a yelping sound, quickly followed by the flash of a fireball. Wyatt casually stepped in the alley in turn, watched as Chris telekinetically deviated its course and threw it back to the demon. Rogart dodged, eyes lightening up in anger, and Wyatt didn’t think twice. He threw both hands up and summoned his powers from deep inside. An invisible wave crashed through the street, brushing the wall and his brother without consequences, and forcefully slammed into the demon.

Rogart didn’t even made a sound as he disintegrated into thin particles.

Wyatt hummed contently with a job well done and stared at his brother. Chris’s eyes had gone round in shock. Now that was an amusing sight. He pointed at him and blurted:

“How the fuck did you do that?”

He merely shrugged in response.

“Just…let go,” he replied honestly. “Focused on the point I wanted to blast and then…boom.”

Chris crossed his arms, a deep frown on his face.

“That’s not how you usually battle demons.”

“New me, new style.”

“That’s not-“ his brother sighed and grumbled: “Just-never mind. Thank you for helping, I guess.”

“My pleasure.” He paused and felt compelled to add: “You would have had him, you know. Demons can’t stand their own fireballs. Telekinetically throwing it back to his face would have worked.” 

Chris rolled his eyes again.

“I know, that’s why I did it,” he replied blandly, but still looked pleased at his comment.

So, not insensitive to a little flattery? Wyatt thought in amusement. Or perhaps it was the fact the ‘flattering’ came from him. He so desperately craved approval…and Wyatt saw another opportunity to get him away from Turner.

“Want to go get a celebratory ice-cream?” he asked, nodding towards the mall. His brother snorted.

“We’re not ten anymore.”

“But we’ve just hunted a demon on our own,” Wyatt insisted. “That calls for a celebration. Could become our ritual. There’s worse than ice-cream.”

Chris contemplated him but Wyatt knew he had him. His brother had an undeniable sweet tooth.

“Alright, fine,” he grumbled without heat.

They spent the rest of the morning together, completely foregoing Turner and his new catch. Chris mentioned his friend didn’t need much of his help, and Wyatt enjoyed spending time with his brother. They returned to the manor for lunch –or to reheat the food their mother had prepared for the day. Wyatt was already salivating at the thought of a lovely boeuf bourguignon when he realized they weren’t alone.

PJ was sitting in the couch, in the living room. The scent of cooked meat came from the kitchen, along with his littlest cousin Peyton seated at the table, digging into their lunch. Parker was nowhere to be seen, but Wyatt would bet his full pocket money that she was up there, going through their stuff.

PJ glanced at them and shrugged:

“Mom asked us to stick here. She had an emergency and didn’t want to leave us without supervision in the apartment.”

“So she left you without supervision at the manor?” Wyatt snapped, feeling angry already. From his teenage memories, it wasn’t the first time Phoebe acted that way. She just assumed the boys would be home and babysit without question.

“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger,” PJ shot back. “Mom is out, dad is working, we’re just chilling. I’ll make sure the girls aren’t up to no good.”

“Then where is Parker?” he asked, the tension growing in his jaw.

“Probably upstairs, I don’t know.”

He didn’t wait a second more and stormed into his room. His door wasn’t closed. He slammed it against the door as he opened it, startling his cousin into a jump.

“Jeez, you’re crazy!” she snapped, recoiling from his desk. He narrowed his eyes, glared at her.

“Get out of my room,” he growled angrily. 

His tone must have surprised her because her eyes immediately welled up and she started sniffing. He stepped away from the door, pointed at the corridor.

“You get the fuck out of my room, now.”

Parker burst into tears and didn’t move. He used telekinesis to shove her out and slammed the door behind. She kept staring at him in shock, skin pale, mouth wide opened. He understood her that reaction. His alternative-self had never raised his voice against her. He had never used his powers against her either. Wyatt crouched at her level, keeping his face stern, and whispered:

“Next time you go unsupervised into my room, you will regret it. Now get out of my face.”

Parker stood up on shaky legs and headed downstairs. Her eyes were wide and fearful and she kept glancing over her shoulder ever few minutes. Perhaps he had gone too hard on the girl, but he couldn’t regret it. Not when he knew how much of a pain in the ass she would become, for both him and Chris.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, glanced at the bedroom door. He returned inside, quickly checked the books he had been brought back –still there- and picked up a broken ceremonial knife he had borrowed from Magic School a while ago. He stepped outside next, closed the door, carved a series of protection runes in the upper corner. Once he would be done, no-one but him –or those without pure intentions -would step into it. No need to block Chris if he needed him.

“What was that?”

Speaking of the devil…Chris was standing in the hallway, arms crossed, looking curious. Wyatt finished his rune and asked:

“What was what?”

“Parker is a crying mess downstairs. PJ is trying to comfort her, and I’m sure she did something stupid, I just want to know what.”

“Snooping in my bedroom isn’t enough?”

Chris didn’t reply and he finished engraving the set of runes. Once he was done, he took a step back, admiring his work. His practical magic was a little wobbly, but it would do. No need for an extensive shielding spell either, he just wanted to keep the pest away.

“Nice,” he heard Chris breathed behind him. A quick glance over his shoulder and he realized his brother had stepped far closer than anticipated. “Mind if I do the same on my door?”

Wyatt smirked a little as he handed out the knife. His brother read the runic sentence in turn and started carving too.

“She did that to you too?” he asked knowingly. Chris hummed and kept his activity.

“A few times. I complained to Aunt Phoebe, she just brushed it off.” He had a stable hand and a precise motion, as if he had done this time and again. Wyatt wondered what he had been practicing on, and if it would be weird if he asked. He didn’t think he was supposed to know the difference between practiced carving and not. He glanced at him from over his shoulder. “You do realize she’s gonna get on your nerves if you don’t apologize.”

Wyatt snorted.

“She dropped off her kids without making sure anyone was home and let them feed themselves with our food. I’m not doing free babysitting anymore.” He paused and thought the situation over. “I wonder if mom knows what she’s been doing.”

Chris paused mid-carving this time.

“You want to tell mom?”

“Why not? Aunt Paige and Uncle Henry work twice as hard as Phoebe and her husband, but they don’t dump the terrible twos and the muggleborn upon us without warning.”

Chris snorted and shook his head.

“Good luck with that.”

He had just finished when they heard angry footsteps coming up the stairs. Heavy, angry footsteps. Wyatt smirked inwardly, turned to Chris and whispered:

“Get mom over here now.”

Understanding grew on his brother as he orbed away at once. And now, he only had to wait for the final boss. As expected, Phoebe appeared on top of the staircase, her face red in anger. Behind her, well-hidden in the shadows, Parker was staring at him with narrowed –and triumphant- eyes.

The last time his aunt had been over, they had barely spoken three words. Now, Wyatt merely crossed his arms, put on his best pacific air and waited patiently for her to come. She didn’t scare him, and he would let her know from now on that taking him for granted would not be acceptable. His or Chris.

“You apologize right now!” she snapped without preamble. Wyatt merely cocked his head to the side and replied:

“Hello Aunt Phoebe, how are you doing? How lovely to finally see you.”

His answer seemed to catch her off-guard barely a few seconds. Then she went on:

“Don’t be smart with me. You threatened my daughter, you made her cry! Apologize, right now.”

“Oh, so I can go snooping through your stuff next time?”

“What?” Phoebe growled. He heard the familiar sound of orbing, bit back a smile. Chris must have returned with their mother in his own room, right outside the bedroom door. His aunt didn’t seem to notice, meaning that conversation would go without pretense. Sneaky, I knew you were my brother for a reason.

“You dropped off your daughters without checking if someone was home beforehand and Parker was snooping through my stuff when I got home,” he enounced clearly. “So that means I can do the same with you guys, right?”

“Of course you were there,” Phoebe protested. “Piper said you were staying at the manor all morning.”

“And did you actually see me? Did you hear me answer? I’ve been at the mall with Chris all morning, so I’m pretty sure either an intruder impersonated me, or you’ve been hearing voices.” His aunt started to speak, but he didn’t let her and added: “Don't you often drop your daughters so they won’t mess things at your place? Because stuff keeps disappearing from my room. I should go through Parker’s bedroom and hiding spots, see if I can finally reclaim some of the goods she’s stolen.”

“My daughter is not a thief and that is not the point,” Phoebe interrupted. In the back, Parker didn’t look so good anymore. “You threatened her.”

“I told her she better not go unsupervised in my room again because I caught her red-handed snooping through my stuff,” he repeated loudly and patiently. “And I will uphold this promise if I catch her in a place she’s not supposed to be.” He took a step forward, nearly closing the gap between him in and his aunt. In spite of his age, he was already taller than her. She had to look up. It was oddly satisfying. “I’m done being a good kid, Aunt Phoebe. You don’t get to bully me into going your way. Those days are over.” She opened her mouth, he interrupted: “And don’t even think of asking Chris. If you consider him mature enough at thirteen, then PJ should soon be able to handle her sisters too. And if not, you have money. Hire a babysitter instead of forcing your nephews to do your job.”

Phoebe wasn’t the kind of woman to back down easily. She wouldn’t be Charmed One if she did. She met him head to head, a hard expression on her face.

“When I tell your mother about-“

Chris’ bedroom door opened at that very moment. As expected, Piper Halliwell stood behind it, her expression closed up, and his brother gave him a discreet thumb’s up out of Phoebe’s sight.

“No need to tell me Phoebe, I heard everything.” The middle Charmed One was ready to speak when Piper interrupted: “How long have you been dropping your kids off at the manor like I’m a daycare?”

Wyatt took advantage of the distraction to sneak into Chris’ bedroom and closed the door behind. The voices of his mother and aunt could be heard through the door, but he didn’t want to hear the full conversation. Instead, he focused on his brother.

“Great timing,” he said.

Chris grinned in response.

“Aunt Phoebe never told her what she did because you kept it quiet and she wouldn’t believe me. Mom was not happy to hear it face value.”

Wyatt raised an eyebrow.

“Mom wouldn’t believe you?”

Chris shrugged.

“You kind of minimized the situation all the time, so she thought I was exaggerating. Thank you for finally stepping up.” He paused and smiled. “I think I like this version of you better. You act weird but you’re definitively…more you.”

The older version of his brother had never agreed with Wyatt’s shifts in morality, not that he could care any less at the time. No matter how much he tried to put it, no matter that Chris’s own morals edged more towards the gray side than the complete good. He couldn’t condone what had been done and Wyatt was in too deep to get out of the tangle of webs he fell into.

It didn’t occur to Wyatt before that this Chris might not accept his changes easily; that the shift in his personality might draw a slight edge between them both at a younger age. He didn’t realize a weight was being lifted from his shoulder before it was actually gone. His brother was accepting him. Even though he had clearly noticed some changes, he was accepting him. And Wyatt had no idea how to react to that.

Thankfully, his brother seemed immediately distracted by something else.

“Dad and Phoebe are going to be watching you, you know. Better not get on their bad side.” He paused and added: “I mean, I could probably draw the fire somehow but-“

“I can handle myself, you don’t need to protect me,” Wyatt replied immediately. Another sign that Chris’s behavior was slightly shifting. He had never so blatantly offered his help in the past. “But thank you for offering.”

Someone knocked at the door and Wyatt belatedly realized the voices of his aunt and mother had quieted down. Chris opened wide. The two women were standing on the other side, Piper’s face red, eyes sharp and thunderous and Phoebe’s face red, eyes frustrated and unnerved.

“I just wanted to apologize and say I wouldn’t be doing this again,” Phoebe said, though he could tell she was really pulling her teeth. She wouldn’t forgive him easily, even though she was in the wrong.

Chris merely watched him, as if studying his response. Wyatt considered it too. His aunt was a powerful witch, alienating her from them would be a mistake so early on. The old part of him wanted to help her dig her grave a little deeper. The new part knew he had to play smart and find a way to keep close to his stuck-up teenage stuff. At least, long enough till he got his powers covered.

“No need to be so dramatic. Ask first if you’re really in trouble,” he replied instead. “Worse answer you can get is a no.”

“The issue isn’t us keeping an eye on our cousins,” Chris inputted. “You assumed we were available and okay with it. So yeah, just ask.”

Phoebe looked put-off but Piper straightened her head, seemingly proud. She also had ‘told-you-so’ eyes when her sister looked back. Wyatt figured he had played the right cards for now. He didn’t expect Chris to add innocently:

“So mom, how much food did you make? Cause I think we don’t have anything for lunch anymore.”

Piper’s eyes turned dark again, and Wyatt thought gleefully –oh yeah definitively my brother.